#75: Three little words

I’m going on a business trip for a conference in Birmingham in a couple of weeks time, so in an ill-judged moment of sexual frustration, I decide that maybe I should try and go on a date with a boy, maybe have a little fumble. Okay, being honest, I decide that it’s time I got my rocks off. I’ve been a very good boy for very long time and daddy wants some sugar.
So I log back into the dating site I haven’t looked at for ages and I lurk for a little while in dark online corridors, until someone catches my eye. I wink at him, he messages back; we chat a little, flirt a lot, exchange some pictures, arrange to meet in a fortnight and move onto Kik to carry on the flirting.
(Not only do I not have Kik, but I have to find it in the App Store, download it and set up a profile in order to be able to use it. God I feel old.)
Over the next couple of days, the conversation gets very personal and intimate. I begin developing a very physical Pavlovian response to the notifications and am so distant and distracted at work while I wait for him to respond, I may as well work in a sausage factory. We discuss what we will do together endlessly, exploring every possible variation of the sexual scenes we will enact in real life in little over a week. I can honestly say I have never in my life looked forward to going to Birmingham as I do now.
We chat late into the night, and message each other again upon waking up “Good morning, gorgeous” “Goodnight, sexy”. We occasionally comment on how intense this special connection between us is, and he is beyond excited that he will be my first (in two decades, at least). The initial smutty, lusty banter has given way to something that feels… good… and then he finally says the thing I was concerned he was hinting at yesterday:
“And when we make love its going to be special because i love u.” [sic]
Well ladies and gentlemen, I didn’t know it was possible to fall off a lofty perch so hard and fast. Oh my actual God. As if a chambermaid had charged in, ripped open the curtains and chucked ice on my pillow, immediately, all my concerns and reservations about this man became glaringly obvious. He wasn’t asking how I felt about his face/biceps/penis/legs because he wanted to check I was genuinely interested, but because he is desperately needy. The face I had convinced myself I found cute was actually a bit doughy and unpleasant to look at. The intelligent, faraway look in his eyes was in fact epic sadness. His husky, broad rugby build was, in reality, a beer gut.
What is it with gay men? A man who lives 120 miles away has just declared his LOVE for me, without ever meeting me, or hearing my voice, or knowing what I do for a living, or even asking about my taste in music, art or film, after less than three days of sexually charged conversation. Now, perhaps I should be flattered that my words have had an impact, but now I’m actually too scared to ever be in the same room as him, alone, without Mace spray. At this point, I am instantly convinced that he won’t take no for an answer, should I decide to not follow through. I am worried for him, and all men like him, who feel such a profound attachment to a total stranger.
Perhaps I am emotionally retarded. Perhaps this is the way the world works now. How do I deal with this? Do I ghost him? Do I continue to lead him on? Neither option seems palatable. I mull it over for an hour (and write this post to gather my thoughts), then I reply with “I don’t know how to respond to that. It’s too intense. I think you’re a lovely guy but it’s more of a connection than I’m looking for, or frankly, capable of.” He responds seconds later with “Ok”. And that’s the end of that.
I can see this is going to be a steep learning curve.
