Valentine’s Day Magic

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This is my 26th year without a Valentine. I’m not trying to say that to be sad or dramatic or gather heaps of sympathy. It’s just a simple fact about me. In a weird way I’m kind of proud of it because when I finally do have a Valentine it will have totally been worth the wait.

But it’s not that I haven’t had boyfriends, it just seems I never have one when the holiday rolls around. Looking back, all my break ups tend to fizzle out during the end of the year, so when the new year begins it’s like both me and my love life get a fresh start.

And this year I was fully prepared to be my own Valentine.

Last year for Valentine’s day I was invited to this exclusive Hollywood gay singles mixer party thrown by a guy who runs a super popular entertainment news outlet. He had found me on instagram and invited me to his party. I ran into a few people I knew and made some new connections. The liquor was free and the dessert spread was out of this world. It was a gay ol time.

This year I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, and as I sat in horrible LA traffic, I had the idea to host a dinner with my friends and just watch romantic movies while we all forget our lack of romance on this Hallmark holiday. But then suddenly I remembered the party from last year, and had the ballsy idea to just text the guy and see if he was hosting another one since I hadn’t heard anything. Within seconds of sending him a text, he replied with an image of the party invitation.

It was happening, and I just scored myself another invitation.

Me, My best friend Jonathan, and my old roommate James arrived to the party looking our best. I wore a tank top with a donut on it and the Ed Sheeran lyric, “I’m in love with the shape of you” thinking it would have been a clever conversation starter.

1) No one commented on it which irked me because where was the sense of humor!?

2) I was the only guy at the party who wore a fucking tank top.

My friends and I also seemed to be the only ones who didn’t mind eating the food spread. Everyone in LA, especially the gays, are so carb and sugar conscious. I get it, I want a hot body too, but food is life and God’s gift to all of mankind.

Here’s a fun fact about me and parties: you can and will always find me near the food. I practically just go to parties for the free food and drinks. Mainly the food.

As my friends and I stuffed our faces on chocolate covered pretzels, glitter donuts and brownies, and heart shaped pizza, we began to survey the room to find the cutest boys. It was a room full of your typical LA hotties. You had your instagram models, influencers, actors, the coolest people you will ever meet (me and my friends), and just a random assortment of people in the entertainment industry. It was the perfect place to network, and a perfect place to find someone. Even if that someone is just for the night.

At first my friends and I were stuck to one another like glue, but as the party progressed and the alcohol started pumping through our bodies, we each found our own little corners of the room to mingle with strangers.

I told everyone I was a poet, because I am so exhausted from saying I’m an actor due to it being just extremely cliche in this town. Being a poet sparked interested, and that’s what I wanted. I was still a performer, but this type of performance made me different.

I was riding a high during the entire party. Earlier in the day I released a slam poem on youtube to my ex and his new boyfriend (click here) and I was receiving so much positive feedback throughout the day that I used it to manifest and project myself into an even better night. I was determined to meet at least one person I was insanely attracted to and get a number.

There was one guy at the party everyone seemed to be drawn to. He was about 6’4 and his name was Jose. All night men approached him to talk but he didn’t seem too interested in anyone. Was he secretly straight and just here to ride the free food and drink train and just get showered with compliments?

I eventually made my way to him, and struck up a conversation. He was there with his cousin and was invited via instagram by the host. I guess the only way into this damn party was instagram. As the night progressed he slowly opened up about slowly coming to terms with being gay and how he was a student up north who just came down for the party.

But small talk aside, I knew I wanted to kiss him.

Either it was the vodka speaking or me still riding my high from my revenge poem,  I told him what I wanted. He looked me dead in the eyes and said, “You want me to kiss you?” and within a second pulled me in causing me to stand on my tip toes as he lip locked me into a tight embrace.

Everything around me stopped. It was like the music cut at the party and everyone was staring, and as we pulled away and I glanced around the room, I could see the other guys whispering and pointing at us. I guess I made the impression my tank top lacked to do with it’s clever pun.

As we stood there, me mostly shocked that I just kissed the hottest guy in the room,  I could feel my lips tingling. The kiss was rough, passionate, and he bit my lip just enough to cause my insides to squirm with joy. I had a taste, and after that moment I wanted a bite of the whole thing.

I was clever, and I told him the kiss was decent and not the best. I was lying through my teeth, but I wanted him to kiss me one more time. And without missing a beat he pulled me back in, and this time it was a completely different kiss.

This one was romantic, soft, slow, and it felt like an I love you without words. It was probably single handedly the best kiss of my entire life.

He pulled away and asked if that was better, and without thinking anything could have topped that first kiss, I just nodded and said yes. He told me I was beautiful, and in a room full of beautiful men, I felt like a 100/10 because I was the one he kissed. It’s not that I personally don’t think I’m attractive, because I do, but like any other human I have my doubts from time to time. Who doesn’t get insecure every so often? But I truly believed I would kiss him that night and I did, so listen up readers, if you want something you can have it. Just be confident and fucking go for it.

We said our goodbyes as the party died down and he told me if I was ever up north to hit him up. I wasn’t looking for anything with him. I was just content with that kiss and if that’s all we could ever be that was okay. Because something about that kiss was magic, and I enjoyed it for what it was; a beautiful moment. And I sometimes think these are what life is truly about. Those moments that leave you breathless, and perfectly content despite how brief they are. It’s these moments that don’t leave room for a heartbreak, and that is exactly what I need right now.

 

 

 

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