I wonder if I’m listed in a guide book somewhere as an attraction. Like, the most amazing place to visit but never stay. One of those exotic caves filled with glow worms or stalagmites. Amazing to see and be inside of, but never the place where you go “I want to live here.”

I went out this past weekend to the gay bars in West Hollywood with my friend Tim. He and I have a unique friendship. We are incredibly close, never been sexual, and used to serve together in church. We both discovered the other was gay when we ran into one another a few years ago at a bar. I remember seeing him, marching straight up to his face and drunkenly saying, “What’re you doing here!?” Ever since then, we’ve always gone out to bars together. That pretty much seems to be our friendship. Hoe’s that party together, stay together.

While out we started just taking drinks down, and the next thing I knew I was 3 vodka soda’s deep and I was feeling pretty damn good. We hopped from bar to bar checking out who we thought were cute and I ran into some people I knew. Without fail, there always seems to be the same people out in WeHo. I hope no one ever looks and me and thinks, “Oh he’s a regular.”

We were in this new bar called Beaches when I saw this guy I followed on instagram but had never met. I remember seeing him like 5 years ago on OkCupid thinking he was cute. I thought he had a boyfriend so I never tried to push anything, but drunk me was at least determined to finally meet him.

I don’t know how it happened or even why, but I walked up to him and briefly/awkwardly introduced myself. It’s so weird how it’s acceptable to say you know someone from instagram and immediately it’s like you’re somehow friends. He said he recognized me but wasn’t entirely sure who I was. I gave him a brief history and then went on my way to go buy a tub of ice cream from the grocery store on the corner and a bottle of water.

I must be a sight to see when I go out. Here I was eating a tub of ice cream while my other drunk friend scarfed down two slices of pizza and I didn’t give two fucks what anyone thought. I always like to end my nights with ice cream, and I usually grab extra spoons in case anyone else I meet on the street wants to partake in some drunchies (drunk munchies).  It’s my form of “giving back” to the community.

While enjoying my caramel pretzel ice cream I got a notification on my phone from that guy I ran into in the bar. He wrote me saying how cute he thought I was and I drunkenly just asked him to come home with me.

10 minutes later we were making out in the backseat of an uber with hands in pants I almost thought we were about to make a baby. And despite the fact I was now hooking up with someone I’ve admired for years, there was one major problem, he had a boyfriend.

Somewhere in between kisses I remembered he was dating someone and then we briefly talked about it. He spoke so negatively about his relationship and how his boyfriend cheats all the time and how he practically “hates” him. And although a sober me wouldn’t have kept hooking up, drunk me didn’t care. I just remember telling him he is the type of person that gives love a bad name and how offended he was by my comment. And although drunk me lost some standards and I felt like a home wrecker, I was still proud that I called out bullshit when I saw it. Even if I went against it. I acknowledged it, and that to me is a start.

Next thing I know we’re laying breathless in my bed from amazing sex. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the weed, or maybe genuinely it was just good sex. He was a great kisser, knew what he was doing, and he had a solid tight muscular body. I felt close to someone, but after when I was all ready to cuddle, he was passed out on the bottom of my bed. I curled up by myself, and despite just having someone inside me, I felt empty without him holding me. I think truthfully that was just the type of intimacy I needed and wanted. I wanted to hold someone goodnight.

When we awoke the next morning he asked if we had sex. Wow, he didn’t even fucking remember, and then he went on to rant about his boyfriend and how when they’re “done” he is going to ask me out. I just wanted him to leave so I could get a few more hours of sleep before I had to go to work. He proceeded to go down on me and then swallowed when I was finished. That was pretty hot, and not something men have done often for me in the past. I always fall for these “straight” gays who are like afraid of dick and semen, but this guy was all for it and in the moment I was all for him wanting it.

The following night I went out again to celebrate a birthday party and drunk me should not be allowed on instagram. This really cute boy who I follow wrote me and we started chatting and flirting. He, per usual, had a boyfriend but kept telling me how badly he wanted me and how if we lived in the same state I’d get him in trouble. The messages went from flirty to dirty to full on sexual. The following morning he wrote me saying his boyfriend saw the messages and how he had to block me to prove to his boyfriend how faithful he was to him.

And then all of this got me thinking. One night I’m having sex with someone taken and then the next night I’m sexting someone else in a relationship. And then I started thinking about how my ex had someone before he met me and how he played us both but chose him instead.

So am I the problem? Am I a home wrecking slut? Why do I seem to be the one everyone wants to cheat on their boyfriend for but not the one they want to make their partner? How could I be someone worthy of risking your relationship but not worthy of keeping for the long haul?

Each of these guys talked about how they weren’t happy in their relationships, but for some reason they stay. They all settle for less than what they want and I will never understand why. Why is everyone so scared to be alone and just see what’s out there? Because when you try to hold onto something while looking for something else, you just end up hurting a lot more people than yourself.