"so…," the Elk asks as we lay in bed. his wet snout rubbing across my chest, "are you okay with all this? is this what you want?" i stroke his salt and pepper fur as his antlers nuzzle into my neck
is this what i want?
this your last chance to get out now before things get serious and someone gets hurt
the problem with shacking up with someone you've known for 11 years is there's none of that 'getting to know you' period. because you know the son of a bitch already. well, i don't know him so much, but he sure as fuck knows me. the little bastard reads this fucking blog!
why do i know so little about him? he's a very private person. he grew up in a little area in the north of Ireland. a heavily religious no-fun no-dancing Footloose-type town. he grew up working on a farm. up until last week this is just about all i knew about the first 20 years of his life. he just doesn't say very much
"and i'm the talkative one in my family."
"oh…"
but he's not shy. he's just guarded.
in the year we stopped talking and the first half of the year i was in Melbourne he's been a social little butterfly and acquired the enviable position of being a prized trophy in Sydney's alternative homo scene.
"that's because i didn't put out."
"well duh, because if you did no one would be friends with you. they would've find out what a dud fuck you are…"
'oh!" he gasped and raised his fist at me
in Sydney everybody wants a piece of him. even in Melbourne, everyone wants a slice of his furry man-pie too. so is that what changed my mind? did i suddenly find him more desirable because everyone else wants him? is that why i want him now? did it scare the fuck out of me into realising what i had been steering away from for so long? am i that shallow that i want the trophy?
this bothered me for a bit. for a short time i entertained the idea that i only want the Elk now because he's wanted so much by others might be true. but it wasn't. it's not a nice thing to say, but i think it was better that we didn't get together before. in the last year he's discovered a whole new side to Sydney that in all his years here never knew existed. i would have introduced him into it, but that would not have happened to the extent it did if he was in relationship. you need to be free and single to enter a new social scene. he's changed so much. i'm not sure if he realises the difference. a decade ago the Elk would walk into a room and few people might notice the sexy little fucker, but now this proud stag struts into a room and everyone stops, turns, dribbles a little bit and stares. then they hear the accent. sure they can barely understand a word, but they're just happy to gaze upon this rare Irish Elk (Megaloceros giganteus) up close
which leads me to the other issue. if he's so amazing, then what the fuck does he want with me?
there a so many men that want him. better men. smarter men. more attractive men with better bodies and bigger cocks. more mentally and financially stable men with better careers and kinder hearts. men that will treat him like a king and give him all he deserves.
what the fuck does he want with me? what can i offer him? and why does he still want me after i've been such a cunt for so long?
the best thing to do when you start dating someone is to take drugs. take lots and lots and lots of drugs. get so fucked up that every damn thought, no matter how embarrassing, will spew out of your mouth faster than you can hesitate. drugs don't change you but you can't hide the truth on drugs
we did. we got pretty fucked up. when i'm fucked up - i'm munted. it was 7am and all i could do was curl up foetal with my head on his chest, my eyes rolling back into my head and spit dribbling out the corner of my mouth. when Elk is fucked up, he turns into a regular little chatterbox. he was talking for a good hour or two. he said a lot of things i didn't understand, partly because of his accent and the fact that i was munted, and i thought it might have been rude to keep saying "huh? what?" he also said a lot of things i've never heard before. a lot of kind things i never thought i'd hear him say, let alone hear anyone say about me. he explained why he still wanted me
…and i was so fucked up i can't remember a thing. all i can remember was 'i want to take care of you'
so yeah. this is what i want
it's great. it's fantastic. it's all kittens and rainbows and lambs and daffodils and springtime. but it's still so fucking weird. we were sitting in a filthy toilet cubicle of some bar trying to snort the rest of a bump up our nose and he stopped and just stared at me
"what?"
"nothing," he smiled
"what?"
he stammered to get the words out, "this… this…" he motioned between me and him, "this, you… and me…and… ugh. it's so weird."
it's not so weird for me. i've felt this way about him for a long time. i just didn't want him to wait for me. i buried it.
no wait… everything feels backwards. everything feels like opposite day. "yeah, it is weird." i said and i molested him once more up against the grimy toilet wall before going back out to the bar to join the others
t.i.s.m. - opposite day
*brashs - if you can remember, is a shitty store no one went to in the 90s, especially to buy/steal a cd
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