Things have been going a bit better in my life lately. Not great; but better.
Last week I found myself in a sticky spot. I was frequently seeing and texting a guy that I had met in the gay park (again) last week. This is the same guy I watched have sex w/ another guy last month and the same one I mutually masturbated w/ and couldn't stop looking into his eyes. For whatever reason I haven't been able to stop thinking about him over the past few weeks. I was thrilled when I found him again and we were able to hook back up.
It was weird. I wasn't so much interested in his cock or doing any of that sexual stuff, even though things always eventually went that way when we saw each other. I found myself thinking about him a lot and we would text back and forth all day. When we got together we would tightly hug and touch and feel and hold and (of course) mutually masturbate together. It felt so good to hug and hold him and feel his arms and his strength and his (it seems totally faggot for me to say this): his maleness. But he was giving me something I was needing: attention and male affection. I knew it was wrong the entire time, but it felt so good that I couldn't NOT do it. Awesome double negative usage. HAHA
However, when he would touch my chest or arms I kept having this strong impression that these things weren't HIS to touch. My body belongs to my wife. And this guy doesn't know me. He doesn't even know my last name! All he sees is the physical. All that was going through my mind the entire time.
I knew what I had to do.
On Monday we met and had a tête-à-tête in the woods. It totally felt like something straight out of Brokeback Mtn. Afterwards as we were walking back to our cars I told him I couldn't see him anymore. We are both married w/ children and it isn't right. I love my wife and my kids and my life too much to keep this dirty secret stupid little gay affair going. And I knew exactly why I was doing it and what I was needing and that I was filling my void in the wrong way. I told him it was going to be difficult and that I would never forget him.
But in the end I knew it was right and it was so liberating to let go and say goodbye.
That was on Monday and as of today, Thursday, I'm in a good place. I haven't heard from him. I haven't found myself thinking or dwelling on him or re-lusting after him or our trysts. It gave me strength and courage to realize how much I've grown and changed and the wisdom I've obtained. It felt so good to "let go."