Well, it was three days ago but I must finish the story I started.
There is this really fit guy at the gym, he is an athlete or something similar and is just about to start teaching boxing and conditioning classes at BXR in Baker Street, the gym I go to. He has a very outgoing personality, he knows everyone at the gym and they seem to love him. He is loud, annoying and when he laughs I just want to punch him. I really can’t stand him. However, he is extremely good looking, very tall and as you would have imagined, very fit with an amazing body.
Recently he has been saying hi to me and smiling. We’ve never been introduced and never had a conversation. It’s not just a friendly smile, I see something else, I am not sure, and I can’t think about it. Right now I am very vulnerable, so I should not engage with anyone that seems to be flirting with me. It will destroy me, like it has done in the past.
And now (well, three days ago, but I’ll keep it in the present tense), I arrive in the gym, high from the overdose, horny, carefully measuring my breath, and not making any sense even to myself. This guy, who for now I’ll name Shaz (I am not sure what his real name is, but it ends with a Z or X and has 3 or 4 letters), is sitting at Joe & the Juice (there is one inside the gym) talking to some girls. I head towards the counter to buy some water, and I notice from the corner of my eyes his reaction to my arrival. He followed me with his head as I approached the counter. I buy the water and as I walk past him, I look and he says “hi” with a big smile. I respond without showing any excitement, whilst inside my head all I can think about is him.
I enter the changing room. I am high as fuck, I desperately need a man to grab me and fuck my brains out. I start to get changed when suddenly Shaz comes in. Please don’t talk to me, please don’t talk to me, please DO NOT TALK TO ME!
Hey mate, how you doing?
Yeah, good, thank you! Are you doing a class now?
Yeah! Strength and Tone…
Great! Me too…
Cool!… Then I am doing Climb to the Beat after.
Ah really! That’s a really good cardio class!
Yes, it is.
Please tell me you are also doing this class.
Silence. I get changed, he gets changed, should I say something? I have the impression that he is discreetly watching me whilst I take off my watch and my ring. He is ready before me.
I’ll see you there then!
See you there.
Does he fancy me? Nobody is that friendly with me, unless they want something.
I head into the studio, which is quite busy, and there he is. He smiles at me, again! What is going on? and few minutes later he smiles at me again. He smiles at me throughout the class, as if there was some kind of program inside him that detects when I am within his eyesight, and when he sees me, the programme triggers the muscles on his face that make him smile and then goes back to normal when he can’t see me.
The class is quite hard, just as I expected. It was perfect. At the end I was gasping for air and energy. There is half an hour wait until the next class. I sit in the cafe where everybody is focused on England’s football match against Colombia. Shaz also comes into the cafe, talks to everyone, laughs really loud, makes jokes, doesn’t acknowledge me, why would he? Who wants to talk with a weirdo with no friends in the corner of a cafe.
How do I feel after the first class? Horny, soooooo horny, there are some guys sitting in the cafe who suddenly appear so attractive. I feel properly high now, like in a night club after taking ecstasy. This is that feeling whom I am very familiar with, of when the drugs kick in, and it feels like everybody around me is there for the same purpose: to find sex, and they are are all attracted to me, and even though they are not flirting or looking at me, it feels like we are all so horny that the moment they turn their eyes towards me it will be a clear indication that they are as desperate as me for sex. It’s like we are all part of a self pleasuring entity, a single self pleasuring entity with a single purpose which is sex. This is what I feel right now.
I am such a looser, a fucking nutter!
I realise that Shaz has disappeared so I head to the changing room for a pee and in the corridors I see him coming the opposite direction. Here he comes, big smile, beautiful teeth, looks me right in the eyes.
Yesssss! and carries on towards the cafe.
I smile back. What the fuck does that mean? Yes, for what? Anyway…after I pee I head towards the cardio studio and set myself up. Tonight, my favourite instructor James is teaching. I am still high, extremely horny, and there is hardly any men in the class (of course, England is playing).
The class starts, everybody starts to climb on the versaclimber. The music is fast. He is playing techno house, and I really enjoy his tunes. It reminds me of my clubbing days. The lights in the studio make it look like a night club. There is blue, green, red and many more (I am colourblind, so difficult to describe), they interchange and they mix, they spin and switch on and off, there are a couple of strobes in the room. I push myself to the limit.
Look at me, stare inside
Take my place, in my mind
Capture me, follow through
Validate, wanting you…
I am high, horny, anxious, all sweaty and gasping for air. My legs are on fire, my lungs about to explode, but I carry on. I remember all the things I have been through in my life: the sexual abuse, the neglect, the discrimination, the bullying, the days alone and without food, the number of times my heart was broken, the drug addiction, the overdoses, the rape…if I managed to survive all these, I can survive being out of breath for 45 minutes. The music is really loud, and it’s amazing.
Baby this seems so right. Baby this seems so wrong
Hour after hour, so long, day after day, so long
Year after year after year
And now we’re here…
The music is more or less 132 beats per minute. I am so out of breath, there is a paddle of sweat underneath me. I try to breath deep, to focus, to remove any tension and strain from my face and arms, so that all energy can be directed at my legs and lungs. I remember that the pain should be kept inside, this is what I’ve doing my whole life, otherwise I probably wouldn’t be alive today. Suddenly the lights become brighter, and more distinct from each other. Their movements slow down, and I feel like an outsider. I am not in that room any more exercising and gasping for air. I am just an entity in the background, aware that this is a fitness studio with people exercising, lights flashing and amazing music playing.
Breath on breath. Skin on skin
Loving deep. Falling fast
All right here. Let this last
Here with our lips locked tight
Baby the time is right for us…
I am just an entity somewhere in the background, not watching what is happening in the studio, but aware of it, not listening to the music anymore, but aware of it. The people in the class are each minding their own business, doing different things, but somehow it looks like they are all doing the same thing. They have no emotions, they need no air to breath, they are just moving entities with no memory and no soul, just like me, just aware that this is happening but not living it because we are not alive nor dead. We are lifeless and there is no past, future or present. What is happening right now is not actually happening and it has always been like this.
The lights and the people are not moving anymore. It’s like I am looking at a painting, where things move but if I pay close attention, things are not actually moving, or they are not moving but if I pay close attention they are actually moving.
And it could be tonight
Hour after hour, so long, day after day, so long
Year after year after year
And now we’re here…
I am fucking high! I have these feelings usually at the end of clubnight, when my brain is fucked and drugs have no effect on me any longer. I am just a lifeless body acknowledging the awareness of what is going on around me whilst not having a clue of what is going on.
The class ends, I’ve made myself justice (is this right English?). I am completely destroyed. I take my time in the shower and sit for a little bit in the cafe to watch the match. Shaz is there but doesn’t acknowledge me anymore. Oh well, fuck him. I head home. I am still so fucking horny, right now I could fuck anything that moves, I flirt with everyone on the tube and in the corner shop where I buy a pizza for dinner. Will anyone please just fuck me?
I arrive home and whilst I eat my pizza and watch Weeds on Netflix, I look on Grindr and FabSwingers for some “company”. I actually feel better now, not as horny, but it would be nice to have some company. I am not used to the idea of being on my own. A quick fix is to look for easy sex, but this just feeds my sex addiction, so it’s not ideal. However after my ordeal today I think I deserve a break (excuses, excuses…). But there doesn’t seem to be anyone interesting online, until…this big man, Portuguese, big… as in overweight, who is not my type at all, messaged me on Grindr. We met once, when I was desperate for sex, he gave me a blow job and I fucked him whilst watching porn. After all he is not my type at all, I needed something to keep me hard, and he was quite happy with the idea.
This time, as usual, he messages first. I ignored it, and he messages me again, this time saying that he fancied sucking some dick. I reply, tell him to come over. He comes and gives me a blow job whilst I watch porn again. He asks whether I wanted to fuck him, but I say that today we’d only do oral. I cum in his mouth and he leaves, and I stay with this weird feeling inside me.
I am not sure how to explain. What I described with this man was my sex addiction acting out, with a difference. When I was in deep drug addiction, and was going through the deepest and darkest moments in my life, I was this man. In the way that my sex addition acted out, I’d let men use me for their pleasure, any men, and in most cases these men didn’t fancy me at all. These were “straight” men that just wanted to relieve their stress. I had no love and no attention from them, and I was quite happy with the idea of attending to the needs of others, rather than caring about my own needs. This man I saw today doesn’t look like a drug addict, he didn’t look high when we met, but is it right that I am using him the way that I was used and sometimes abused, just for my own pleasure, without any care for his feelings. Maybe he has the same lack of self-esteem that I have and doesn’t care about his emotional needs. Maybe he was abused when he was a child. I don’t know! He is not my type, so I can’t give him what he really needs. But maybe the best way to show that I care about his feelings is to tell him that we shouldn’t meet again, because I don’t fancy him.
However, deep down, I also feel like I have accomplished something, I am just not sure what. It’s probably the monster inside me, the sad, loner and selfish sex and drug addict that I am.
I am also acting out with Shaz. He is the first person in ages that gives me some attention, the kind of attention that I want, that acknowledges when I am present, and I am confusing it with flirting, because this is the sad world where I live. I am so hungry for attention that I will accept anyone that accepts me and if this someone is like Shaz (tall, good looking, beautiful smile), I fall in love, end up disappointed and then look for sex so I can express my anger and sadness.
It’s this that I can’t live with anymore. I must focus: no drugs, no random sex, just joy and happiness.