My Trip Out

Gay married man coming out story

A picture is worth 1000 words

Here I sit. For the last two days I’ve been wearing gym clothes, slept in’em too, dirty underwear and a sweat stained T-shirt, haven’t showered either and you know you’ve reached the break point when you can smell yourself. But least we all forget, I’m hot. I have a brown tiger who is video calling 15 times a day to ask me what I’m doing and giving me the ‘I’m horny and miss you look’ (it’s patented so don’t try and use it yourself). My big outing was to the grocery store. I’m having pasta tonight and highly recommend the Trader Joe’s Rustica sauce. I think this is what depression looks like. At least, it’s what I imagined it would look like. I’m drinking too. Might as well complete the entire scenario.

Many readers might think I’m highly opinionated. I’m not. Just your opinion doesn’t count. I am decisive, but I can and do change my mind, given a new set of data. For weeks, I’ve ranting on about not wanting to hang out with other gay guys.

Walking back from the grocer, it dawned on me, if I’m not hanging out with other gay guys, well, who am I going to hang out with? I’m doing the hanging out by myself piece solid.

People my age are married, kiddies, bitchy wives – no room to fit a old fag in. My friend, Paul, called me the other day, haven’t seen him since Christmas. Great friend, right? But he’s busy, neurotic and making me happy isn’t on his honey-do list. The other choice is vagina. Become a fag hag to some old woman, walk her poodle or something like that.

So it appears like the default choice is the “Gay Community”. I can’t quite figure out why they call it the “Community” , don’t seem to a have a rec room or basketball court. Friday night is here. Capital Pride is on and no doubt ┬áthe entire Gayborhood is hopping. But I can’t go alone. Shit will just happen and not the good shit, we’re talking TC up in a tree growling, hissing and clawing. So I’ll stay home tonight. Toronto is next week, I can wait, he’s my tiger after all.

I’ve got a path to make some ‘gay’ friends and probably need to use it. Fucking bunch of flaky fairies, bitching and complaining, lonely, horny and needy, they are my peer group now. Unfortunately, I made a decision sometime ago and now I have to live with the consequences. It’s called life. Recent days I haven’t enjoyed living it. New chapter, new book, shit, new library needed soon


  1. You can’t go to the “gayborhood” by yourself, because TC might, would, could, (would’ov should’ov could’ov) get jealous? But he (TC) is allowed to go to a club all night and/or not call you until midnight? And, to boot, he calls you during the day (not at night, those calls are reserved for midnight, after the club closes) every 15 minutes to “check in” on you (sometimes called passive aggressive stalking). Chris, there is something just not very good about this picture. Something needs to be repainted. Any clues?

  2. Go to the passive aggressive stalker website, and ask yourself: does your TC meet the test?

  3. There are some nice gay just need to find the right group.

  4. Chris,

    I agree with Single Guy. You need to make an effort to find some friends (gay or not) that you can hang out with as you decide. It’s no fun going to a Gay Pride Parade all alone. It’s to be experienced with friends (if the lover is not available)….I hope you and TC go to the one in Toronto.

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