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For the first time in a long, long while I have a crush, a legitimate, racing pulse, walking-on-air crush.
After my last epic fail at dating blew up in my face two years ago—once again, a sensitive straight guy (yes, I have a type,) I have been trying to spend that time and energy on something more productive like learning to love myself, trying (in vain) to organize my room, and focus 100 percent on my job so that I can actually have money for once. Of those three things I've succeeded in saving up some money. I've managed to get my first adult car—totally on my own—and have published my first original novel. I'm currently 200 pages into my second!
I don't know if it's because I've been hurt so many times in the love game, or because I'm getting older—28 is not old—but I've reached a point in my life where if great love happens—great—if not, oh well. I will admit, however, that it does hurt me a bit that of the first generation of my cousins, I am the only one without a significant other. I've never even been on a date.
I live in a small town in mid Michigan known only for it's cheese. The dating pool is rather shallow and everyone has slept with everyone. It's practically incest at this point.
I am the manager at a family owned pizzeria that happens to also have a video store in the lobby. I suffer from pretty intense anxiety, so working is my only social experiences. Thus, the majority of my interactions with non-family members happen at work. Maybe that's why over the course of my eight years at the pizzeria, I've crushed on four of my coworkers.
As icing on the cake, this new crush, we'll call him Roland, is a friend of my last crush, the one whose dad I blew back in March. I swear, I can't escape this group!
Perhaps it was the day that I realized that he was friends with my ex crush, or the night he asked me if said crush and I had dated or anything, because, while the crush was working at the pizzeria with me, he'd always talk about me fondly, making Roland suspect that we were more than just friends.
I think it was the night we almost hooked up... but before I get into that, I should give you the full story.
I make a killing in tips on top of my $10.50/hr. I recently had almost $1,000 saved up in tips. One night, Roland came in to get a pop or something after he got out of his other job, and one of our coworkers brought up the fact that I had $900 on me. Roland made a joke about robbing me in the parking lot; being the wise ass that I am, I flat out told him that I'd gladly give him the $900 if he'd let me blow him. I said that he wouldn't have to do anything, just lie there and cum for me. Obviously, I was joking, I would never seriously pay for sex, although I don't think that prostitution is a big deal. I mean, I'd rather someone get paid to have sex than support people who want to live off of welfare and pop out a handful of kids they can't afford and shouldn't have. I digress.
The following night, when I closed with Roland, I waited until he was sweeping the floor, and then I whipped out $900 cash and set it on the table. In a sultry voice, I asked if he was ready to hold up his end of the bargain. He got red in the face, a broad grin lighting up his face as he stumbled for words. I dropped it. A few days later, I got a Facebook message from him asking if I'd been serious about the money. I confessed that it was a joke; no way was I going to pay him to perform fellatio on him. He replied that he'd thought so, but that he was hard up for cash, and he wanted to know if I was serious before he properly considered it.
In the coming weeks our coworker, Arthur, began telling me that when he and Roland worked together on Monday nights, Roland would talk about the offer. Arthur said that he was pretty sure that I could pull this thing off.
Two weeks ago, Arthur put in his two weeks, but decided he wasn't going to put up with the bullshit of the job anymore, so he stopped coming to work. We had a busy, short staffed weekend, and on that Saturday, I once again found myself closing with Roland. He shared his new song with me and against my better judgement, I brought up the oral sex thing again. I told him that I would not pay $900, but I did still want to suck him off if he was still interested. He said $25 sounded fair enough; again, I am not paying for sex, not under any circumstances. I tried to convince him to let me suck him off for a minute or two and show off my skills before he decided that I had to pay for it.
He seemed apprehensive, but interested, admitting that he has not cheated on his girlfriend at all in the three years they've been together, but that they rarely do anything sexual anymore. We agreed that if it were to happen, nobody could know about it—he doesn't want his reputation ruined, and I don't want to be seen as a home wrecker/prostitute.
I jokingly kept banter up until he asked me if, IF, it were to happen, where would I want to it happen. Honestly, doing it inside the pizzeria would be so hot, but I just wouldn't feel right about it, even though I know we could do it in the garage where there are no cameras. I suggested his van. He considered it for a minute and then said he'd do it.
I clocked out, locked the pizzeria, and then went and stood by my car as he pulled his grandma's van around to the other side of the building. For once, I didn't feel nervous at all, just excited to do this. I tried to open the back door, but it wasn't cooperating. I watched through the glass as he stood there, rubbing his crotch tantalizingly. We were just about to get in and get started, when Arthur's son, Ace, showed up out of nowhere on his bike. Thankfully, I am good at covering my ass. I quickly came up with a fallacy that Roland and I were sneaking out to smoke a little bit of weed before going home. Ace, thankfully, believed me and asked if I could quickly let him into the building so that he could grab the rest of his tips. I wanted to tell him to fuck off, but I acquiesced.
We went inside and grabbed them and I was just locking the door when Arthur and Ace's younger brother, Ashton, came around the corner on their bikes. Fucking hell! They ended up talking our ears off for almost an hour before Roland announced that he had to go and promptly skedaddled.
We worked together again two days later, and I debated if I should bring it up or not. Of course, temptation got the best of me and I did. Roland confessed that he wasn't ready yet to do it and that he needs more time to think.
Since that night, I haven't been able to stop thinking about him, about what we almost did. I'm sure that part of it is the fact that we got interrupted, and that part of me hopes that if and when we finally do it, that'll cure my infatuation and I can go back to not obsessing. He's asked me to help him out with doing his GED online, and loan him $500 so that he can get his own car, and just yesterday, I worked a 13 hour shift (covering his 10:30 to 1:00 shift) so that he could go out last night and enjoy his 21st birthday.
I don't want to think of him that way, not in a romantic light. I don't want to go back to the person I become when I'm crushing on someone: codependent, needy, overly charitable, my moods dependent on if I see my crush and how our interactions go. I obsess, dissecting every word and action looking for a clue that this one, this crush might be the one that actually comes to fruition. It never does, and it always ends with me getting hurt, and the friendship getting ruined.
I don't want our friendship to be ruined, and I know that we can never be together. He's straight, and as much as I fantasize about blowing him and giving him the best head of his life, I know that my dream of turning him is just that. I don't want to get hurt, and I don't want to hurt him.
The other night, he stopped in unexpectedly after he got out of his other job, and just seeing him unexpectedly, I hate to admit it, but it put a stupid grin on my face, giddiness racing through my veins. I like the high that comes with infatuation, but I don't like the way that some people— myself included—lose themselves in the messiness of it all. I wish that there was a way to nip this in the bud now before it goes any further. I know that I've brought this on myself and that I don't deserve pity, but damn! I don't know how to get out of this one.
I've already offered to help with his GED, as long as he doesn't expect me to just do it all for him, and I agreed to lend him the $500 on the condition that he pay me back $50 per paycheck. I know that $500 is a lot of money to loan someone, and I'm probably stupid for doing it, but it's all tip money, so at least this way it's doing something nice for somebody besides myself. It not for this endeavor, it would be chilling in my savings account, or piling up in my safe to fund my next trip to Comic Con.
It's funny the things that you notice once you've started developing feelings for someone, and even funnier how someone can go from barely existing to you, to being on your mind in every spare moment. I wish that I could be the friend that he deserves, and not have an ulterior motive for every favor I bestow upon him, but I have yet to be able to shake this. Seeing him smile, knowing I'm helping him, gives me a little thrill of excitement. Lord help me.
All I can do is try my best to keep a level head and remind myself over and over again that this cannot be. We cannot and will not ever be together, will never be more than friends.
Part of me suspects that the main catalyst behind this is that he is close with my ex, and when we talk about him, it stirs up all of those old, unfinished feelings. Since the ex and I are beyond done (even if he did decide he was gay and wants to be with me, I couldn't keep the fact that I gave his dad a blowjob from him) maybe all these reminiscences have the feelings back toward the surface and since my ex crush isn't here anymore and Roland is... Maybe I'm projecting those old feelings onto him.
Why do crushes happen? Life would be so much easier if we could choose the people that we develop feelings for, if we could skip through all of the false starts and heartache and disappointment, and sail right on through to bliss. Of course, one could argue that pain and disappointment are vital to this challenge. Without ever having known these things, how would we ever truly appreciate it when something good actually does come along?
No matter how this thing works out, I refuse to let this play out like the others. I will not allow myself to grow to hate him. I will not get jealous when he checks out a girl or talks about his girlfriend. I will not bend over backwards to see him smile. I'll loan him the money because he is a friend and I believe in helping others, but it can't go beyond that. I have to do everything I can to keep my feet firmly planted in reality.
I don't know why I always end up going for straight guys, but maybe it has something to do with my insecurities. I'm so afraid of actually opening up, letting someone in and being with them, that perhaps I'm crushing on straight guys because I know, deep down, that nothing will ever come of it, so I can enjoy the emotional high of the crush, but still not have to try to figure out how to fit an actual relationship into my chaotic schedule and grow with someone.
Above all, maybe the best thing that I can do now is just take it for what it is; enjoy it while it lasts, and accept it when it ends. Am I detached enough, adult enough to do that? I guess only time will tell.