Now to be honest I figured Sandy Bay would be a safe bet – it might be quiet - and while I was walking down the path, it seemed promising. Finding an open stretch of rocks near the water, calm enough to brave the cold sea, I sat and I stared out at the ocean before me for quite some time. After removing my clothes and submerging my hot body in the cold water men started to swarm around me like a carcass ready for the picking. Naturally I put my clothes back on.
Is it really about the nudity? I just like swimming naked; there is a sense of feeling like a child again when I swim naked, of a time when nudity was not inappropriate or sexually inclined. Is it more about purity and the beauty of a body, our own? Or are piety and chastity just part of a wholesome persona, which makes no room for nudity? When did we become either prudes or perverts?
In my mid twenties I hit a stage where I thought “Yeah, sexual predator, go out and conquer, have what you want” was sexy. I thought if I were that type of guy I would get what I want. We can always try on a different persona but there is really only one that fits. By my late twenties it was evident I am not that kind of guy. I am painfully shy at times. The rush we all get when our hearts start pumping faster, makes me uncomfortable. The anxiety makes me nauseas. By the end I wonder is the excitement too much and is it worth it?
After my swim I sat and was captivated, watching a beautiful man swim in the water like a modern day scene from the film “Sebastian”. It was such a tender and beautiful homoerotic, cinematic moment. If I had a camera I would have filmed it. He smiled at me. I collected my things and decided to go say hello. Just because I was dumped does not mean I should shut my life off from others. He suggested we go for a little walk.
Passing the rocks and getting to a fairly hidden spot he turns and kisses me. Once his hands started coming into play I felt the need to slow this down. My heart was pumping way too fast but I would be lying if I say I was not enjoying it. Is it because someone finds me interesting and someone does not? Did I need the attention from a stranger to make me feel better about myself? So I pulled away from him and for the first time I said something I don’t think gay guys ever say, “I really just wanted to talk to you”
I thought he would be off but to my surprise we started chatting. On closer inspection I found someone similar to me, a very shy guy that hides it well. He hides his behind his beautifully meaty exterior and I hide mine behind my humour.
Was this a rebound? A fleeting moment of an emotional connection? We shared a laugh. We swapped stories of his relationship’s complacency and my trek-across-country-for-love tragedy. We shared something more real than bodily fluids, and although feeling ones eyes rolling in the back of ones head out of pleasure is a masterful way of trying to forget the hurt, I don't think it will erase the pain. Getting over someone is like standing in line at the traffic department, it takes time and there is a process and you cannot just jump the queue but by the time you get out, the sun will definitely be shining.