Oops, I did it again…

I wasn’t going to write this post. Despite all the ways in which I let people into my world, there are some topics that just seem off-limits; however, I need to begin the healing process, so I am going to blog about this. Even though it makes me feel naked and vulnerable (odd that being naked and vulnerable doesn’t make me feel naked and vulnerable, but that this issue does).

I blogged about two weeks ago that I’d finally forgiven my ex. Within hours of doing that the universe put someone in my path. I thought it was a sign that the world had been desperate for me to meet someone, and that since I’d put it off so long that there was an immediate blip on the radar. I’m trying very hard right now not to be angry, but what I feel is rage mingled with grief. I have been given a very distinct reminder about why I normally do not make myself available beyond friendship.

Allen streaked into my life like some kind of meteor: Brilliant and inspiring, but trailing destruction in his wake. Without realizing it, I had resolved to do everything on his terms, because he is so damaged and hurt that I wanted to make him as comfortable and happy as his ex’s made him miserable. What I realize now is that I made too many concessions, and that I lost sight of my own priorities in a bid to satisfy him and keep him around. When he asked for time and patience, I gave it. When he asked for more intimacy (despite having just asked for time to get to know me), I gave it – on the condition that he not lose interest afterward. “I wouldn’t do that,” he said. So, I gave him what he said he was ready for. I am empathetic to the point of being psychic – I knew something was wrong immediately afterwards. When I finally let my cold walls down, I tend to incinerate people with my intensity. People should thank me for keeping myself boxed in – they generally can’t withstand the shock of seeing me in my fullness. It never takes long for me to burn someone out.

Eighteen hours later he is telling me about an ex for whom he still has feelings, and says he is overwhelmed and needs to slow everything down. Mhm. How’s this for slow enough: When he was online last night, he didn’t even say hello to me, let alone give me the promised response to an email (his preferred form of communication). He simply logged off. I sent him a good-bye text, deleted him from my phone, deleted and blocked him as best I could from other portals, and have decided to go back to my stance of “I don’t date.”

Let me explain that the reason I was completely ready to trust Allen is because we have so much in common: Movement/athletics/physical therapy, exotic dance background, legal adoption by cruel step fathers, extreme abuse by significant others, and a highly developed sense of empathy for others (despite an internal conflict between the need for love and the fear of it). The first night we met, he tipped me a $10 bill with a kind note on it. I have kept that tip for the last couple weeks, because it was special to me. I am depositing it in the bank today, so that I can buy some cat litter with my debit card.

What I have been reminded of is that when a gay guy says “I want a smart, kind, attractive, attentive man to love me,” what he means is “I want several douche nozzles to use me badly. Alot.” This blog takes on a bitter tone that I normally do not vent here; however, it is what I am experiencing right now, and if I am going to assert that adult entertainers have feelings too, then I have to occasionally let you see the darker moods too. I am not well.

This will take some time. But I mend quickly. If the damage isn’t too great. I am fucking fabulous. I want to lay down and die, I am so embarrassed. “I like you so much!” Not enough, it seems. The bad thing about meteors is that even small ones leave large craters.

(Update, 07/19/2013: Components of this entry, as well as of the comments below, form the basis of “Revelation 6:13” within the collection “The Gospel According to Anteros.”)

Author: Devon Hunter

Share This Post On


  1. Devon I am not going to patronize you or give you sage advice that will probably piss you off at this time. I will just say I am sorry that it did not work out with Allen and appreciate your honesty. I suspected that something was wrong from your RJ posts.

    Hugs, and hopefully the next guy will treat you better.

    Post a Reply
  2. Sometimes it’s hard to know what to say to words like this, when you are still getting to know someone. Everyone reacts differently to pain. Some people want to express what they feel, but don’t want to be touched or comforted. Kind of like, “Just listen to me and let me hurt!”

    If that’s the way you feel right now, I’m sorry for not giving you what you need. I’m listening, but it’s hard for me to hear about your hurt and not want to comfort you. If this is not what you want or need right now, please stop reading, and come back to this comment later.

    Some people want someone to hold them while they cry, either literally or figuratively. I am a strapping, amazon of a woman, and I have a rocking chair. You would fit nicely in my lap, and I would rock you like a baby . . . you could cry as long as you wanted. I don’t wear nice clothes generally, so you could snot allll over my shirt and I wouldn’t care.

    I also have some cheap dishes I bought years ago for extreme self-therapy. I have been known to take them out into my courtyard and break them, in lieu of breaking someone’s fucking face. I’ve only had to do it three times in the last ten years. If I were there, I would set aside a whole box for you.

    Then I would run you a bath. Lavendar and calendula. Lots of bubbles. A hot bath is a good place to cry. And while you did, I would sit by the side of the tub and wash your back, and squeeze spongefulls of water over your head. I wouldn’t say a word.

    Then we would get you all dried off and into some ugly but comfy sweatpants, and into bed you would go. Some chamomile tea, with honey and lemon. Then you could take yourself a nap, or at least close your eyes. I would tell you a night-night story. It would go like this:

    Your heart is beautiful. I pray you love.

    Your mind is beautiful. I pray you release from torment.

    Your soul is beautiful. I pray you peace.

    Your love is sacred. I pray you will one day be filled to overflowing from the love you get back.

    Your anger is righteous. I pray you healing.

    Your grief is real. I pray you hope.

    You are worthy. Of all the good things.

    You are worthy.

    You are worthy.

    You are worthy, earth angel.

    Post a Reply
  3. perhaps, all that goodness and wonder and joy and the freedom to express love were hidden for so long that it came out as what you’re referring to as intensity? All that greatness struggling for release? I think keeping the doors of the heart open is a good thing. I always have. I feel huge respect for you in your presence. There’s a lot of love in the world. Here’s a bit *hug* …do grab you some!

    Post a Reply
  4. You can’t stop (shut-off) giving of yourself or you close all doors and soon it’s just you and a dark room with nothing to offer you back.
    “That which doesn’t kill you, only makes you stronger”…
    These adages are, simply, true.
    Unfortunately, you gave in to some one who [sounds like] is a “user” – “given an inch takes the mile” – he has possibly adapted to being the things he hated and felt he couldn’t escape when younger. He’s become the dark side of his life’s experiences…
    Some grow from those, others are absorbed in to it – You either reach for the light and grow or wallow in the shallows until absorbed by the sponge.

    Post a Reply
  5. I’m always amazed at persons who will talk to you in person but never respond to an e-mail…

    Post a Reply

Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *