Some of you may have guessed that the name “Wolfe” is a pseudonym and you would be correct. But, ‘Wolfe’ is no longer just a nickname. I am Wolfe.
For the past nine months, I have been gallivanting around the globe with one of my truest and dearest friends. But, for the past two weeks (a drop in the bucket by comparison) I have been trekking on my own to Amsterdam, Copenhagen, and Budapest. We were supposed to rendezvous in Hungary but, because of a mechanical malfunction on her flight, we will have to wait until Sunday when we arrive in back in Prague. Traveling on my own was like hitting the reset button for my mental health, then trying to blow on the N64 cartridge to get the fucking shit to start up again. I felt glitched, out of sorts, like I ceased to be myself.
What is home? Is it where you can hang your hat? Is it where the heart is? Or is it where you can comfortably take a shit?
Neither alcoholics Anonymous nor Narcotics Anonymous has ever really been for me. The gossip between members and continuous dialogue about giving yourself over to a higher power never buttered my bread. I was looking for a Socratic-style discussion group rather than the single file confessionals that I kept finding.
You have all heard the reassuring cliché:
“It’s always darkest before the dawn.”
Aside from it sounding like a pop-hook written by Legolas, what a load of shit huh? This is just what people say when they don’t know what to say anymore, right? They don’t know how to comfort you, so they gag you with this hallmark nonsense.
If you are related to me, you should stop reading this post right here. Seriously…I am telling you to skip this one. It will be weird.
My sex life has never been about me. It has always been about making sure the guy is enjoying himself. On one hand, it genuinely turns me on to see his eyes roll back and steam shoot out of his ears. On the heavier hand, it feels like I’ve given up my own pleasure for the sake of this other individual.
Something has been troubling me…why am I attracted to the types of guys that I am? I would consider myself to be a very open person, but it feels like my sexual preference is very narrow. The heritage of the guy is not very important, but the body shape and level of (perceived) masculinity is essential. The guy could be a neuroscientist with a face that would make Michelangelo ashamed of his work, but if he doesn’t have a beard or scruff then my dick isn’t interested.
Why is that? Let’s start with how I first learned about sex: