Too Late Not To Say Sorry

Dear Zach,

Four years ago, when I first started my freshmen year in college, I constantly envisioned myself doing something great in 5 years time; be somebody, stood out, and making plans for the following next 5 years to come. I would be travelling in South East Asia for every 2 months, affording a car of my own, and having high-flying career that make enough living. Or best of all, having a smokin' hot boyfriend who fell head over heels in love with me. 

Fast forward to four years later, I can't help but to feel sorry for myself. 

 

23

Dear Zach,

The sky was grey as if reflecting my current mood: empty. I woke up to the realization that I was jobless, probably unuseful, and anti-social. I felt restless, uneasy, and aggravated with the thought of sitting at home again. I refuse to go out today because my budget is running tight. Plus I have nowhere to go to. I laid on my bed, in deep contemplation, probably being a dead corp lying on bed waiting to be buried - that's what my dad said. I waited for phone call for job offered: No news. It made me even more restless I wanted to punch the cats sitting at the back of the garden. I searched through jobstreet to apply for job. One thing that I am absolutely sure that I am clueless where I am headed. Clueless about my goal. Clueless about my need. I wanted to travel to find a bit of part of me. But my bank account statement says no - I can't even afford to book a 3 star hotel, let alone to buy the flight ticket. Pathetically enough, I missed the straight guy I had sex with. I'm not sure why. I just missed him. I think my birthday gets worst by each year itself. There goes my birthday today. 

That Time I Had Sex With A Curious Straight Guy

Dear Zach,

He was tall. Pale. Cute and fairly handsome. He was nice to look at but not enough to get my head turn. I didn't bother until he tail-gated me behind my car with his expensive looking car after I left the swimming complex. 

We hang out at the railing of the bus stop. He bought me soda drink from 7/11. It was rather awkward as he was kinda of nervous about it. I wanted to know why. We exchanged a few niceties. Then he asked. 

"So ... do you have girlfriend?" 

" No." I shoke my head. 

"Boyfriend?" 

"No." 

"Gay?" 

"Yup." I curved up my smile and look at him. 

"You are gay?" He seemed surprised. Then the penny dropped.

"Are you bisexual?" I asked. 

"Well, kind of ... I'm not sure. I'm confused actually." His face was unreadable. 

"Do you have girlfriend before?" 

"Ya. Two. It was long time ago."

"Boyfriend?" 

"No." 

"Ever have any sexual encounter with guys?"

"Well, once. I was drunk at that time. And he brought me to hotel and we just did some handjobs and blowjobs." His cheeks was pink. 

"Are you shy?" I looked at him.

"Ya.. I'm nervous actually. This is my first time, sitting down here, talking to a gay guy like this." 

"Well, don't be. I'm not gonna rape you or something. And I have the strong feeling that you were a highly homophobic person beforehand."

He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. I knew. 

"Well, I don't really care if you homophobic or whatsoever. I can't change your mindset. It's all down to whether or not you want to be that way." 

"I don't think I am anymore. Since I am kinda attracted to some guys. Like you."

A moment passed. I can't help but to ask. 

 "Why were you following me behind my car?" 

" No. I didn't. I happened to be around here." He poker-faced. 

"You are lying. The moment when you keep staring at me in the pool. I knew it. And I saw you keep making rounds in the car park as if waiting for me. I know that trick, Joe. I do. I have been gay for years and that was a hookup trick."

He broke into smile as if I revealed his dirty little secret. He's very cute. 

"Oh you! Since you knew. Then you don't have to say it out loud." He shove me lightly. He was blushing. 

Our conversation settled into silence. He looked uncomfortable. 

"So bi-curious guy, what do you want to do now?"

"Let's have sex." He said without blinking his eyes.

"Ya, right? The hotel is just right next to it in front of us." I chuckles. 

He eyes were staring at me as if to will me to look at him. I looked at him. 

"omg! you can't be serious right?! Are you serious? Are you even ready to have sex with a guy yet? I was in shocked.

"Ya. I am ready. I want to try. Let's get to the hotel." He got up and started to walk toward the hotel. 

"Wait up! Fuck! You seriously doing this? Are you sure?" My heart was thumbing so hard right now.

"Ya. You go get the lube and condoms. Here's the note." He handed me a RM50 note. "And I go get the room now." He walked off to the hotel. 

Five minutes later, we met outside of the hotel. 

"If you want to walk away from me and bid goodbye you can do it now, you know."

"I've already got the room key." He was smiling mischievously. "Let's do it."

It happened quite fast I couldn't absorb everything. We were stripping our clothes off hastily. He pushed me down to the bed and sealed his lips with mine. So hungrily and eagerly. His mouth was all over my body. Hot and wet. And he has a skilled tongue. And I loved it. 

"You have watched a lot of gay porn, haven't you?" I asked while he was blowing me. 

He looked up and said, "I've fucked a lot of girls. But this is my first time sucking a dick." 

And then he slid the condom on his hard-on and plunge into my hole. Boyyy.. he was so skilled the moment he undulated his body. As if he has done this too many times. He flipped me back and forth and fucked me rough, fast and hard. He liked it hard. And I loved it. 

When I was on top of him, I can't help to smile and ask him, "So, are you gay now? Or completely bisexual?" 

"Oh! Shut it!" He flipped me over on my back and he fucked me hard. I wondered how horned up he had been. 

"I'm gonna cum soon." 

After a good ol' half hour of banging hard on my ass, he cum all over my body. 

"Fuck." He was grasping for air. He looked at me as I was covered with his semen. "Let's get you washed up." 

We didn't talk much after that. When we left the hotel, we were both stood by our cars. 

"So..." I said, trying to find something to say. 

"So ... I'm gonna head home." He said, as if wanting to say more of it.

"Yeah.. that's cool." I can't help but feeling a bit disappointed. 

"Yeah.. alright." He held up his hands. "See you." 

I held it. "Ya, see you." 

We both didn't want to leave. I wanted to ask for his number. But I thought that was too silly to ask. This guy just wanted sex from me. No string attached sex. Here it is. Deed is done. Say goodbye. 

I waited for him to ask for my number instead. 

"So.. I gotta go." He looked at me warily. 

"Ya.. me too. It's been a rough night." I realized that he just another bloke in town just wanted sex. Why do I care so much? It's not big deal that he didn't ask for my number. 

"Alright, see you." He got into his car, ignited his engine, and pulled out of the parking lot. He waved at me and gave me a horn before he drifted away. 

"Goodnight, Joe." I utter under my breath as I looked at his car, disappeared at the round of corner.  

Waiting and Sex

Dear Zach,

A week passed and it felt as if I have been through 4 months of unemployment. The days were so slow to the extent that my mind might explode for not being useful at all. Past 4 days was too dreadful to live. I felt like something missing - though the biggest part of missing was my job - and I couldn't pinpoint what it is. I stay at home, refusing to go out, except heading to the gym in the morning, the remaining of the day I'd spend my time on my bed and read, and switching between the gay hookup apps (Grindr, Tinder, and Jackd) for hookup in every hour. Here's a fact about me: I tend to get horny when I have nothing to do. Hence the series of hook up since last Thursday til yesterday. I had sex on last Thursday and Friday. And gave head in swimming pool shower room on Saturday. And masturbated twice everyday for the following days. And had sex yesterday again. And I met most of the guys from Grindr. Tinder sucks and guys there are shy to ask what you up to, and the conversation couldn't even last for an hour because they are shy to ask for sex. Their true intention showed when I was being brutally honest telling them that I was up for hook up, you in? Too bad I never got one from Tinder. And I got fed up with Jackd guys because they keep asking for pictures. And I told them to fuck off. I had a job interview last Friday actually. And it seems promising and they will let me know by early of May. I can't really wait til next week for answer.  

Last Friday Night

Dear Zach,

So since I submitted my resignation on last Thursday, my manager decided to waive the serving of one month notice and let me go on Friday. It was a rather awkward situation whereby she was so speechless of my course of action happened in the middle of impromptu meeting as everyone was watching us, she had nothing to say nor ask about my reason of leaving as if it wasn't obvious enough for me to leave. It was an excruciatingly awkward for the whole afternoon in the office, simply because of what had just happened. And I felt a tingling of hatred towards me from my stupid ex-coworkers. Since last Friday was my last day of work, as so happened there was an interview landed on that morning itself, I took a half day leave and went to work in the afternoon. After 2 hours of doing nothing in the office, my manager decided to release me before 6 pm. I was more than happy to leave. I did not bid goodbye to anyone in the office. I loathe them. 

At night, I met up with one of my sex buddy for a long-overdue sex. He almost tear my ass off apart. And it was incredible. 

I Quit

Dear Zach,

I quit. Again. I handed my resignation letter across the desk to my manager. It was in the middle of heated discussion where the question about task-to-do-today was landed on me, Everyone was awaiting my response. I looked at the desktop as if searching for strength to tell her about my to-do list. My mind was racing with possibilities. Without knowing that I was so nervous, my palms were so sweaty. Five seconds had passed. I couldn't think of anything to do today. I couldn't think of anything to do ever, at my desk, in this office. I don't know what I was doing. I was so disappointed at the fact that I couldn't even muster a solid prove that I was actually doing something in favor of her request. Simply because she banned all the ideas and I practically had nothing left to work with. Ten seconds had passed. She was waiting, elbow on the table, palm tucked under her chin. Being clueless about my job, this job, that I was once so eagerly to learn, now I hated it, I want to leave. Don't ever come back to here again. Fifteen seconds of silence had passed. I pulled open my desk drawer, and withdrew my resignation letter I typed last night, and passed it to her, in front of everyone. 

"This job doesn't fit me. I can't do it. I quit."

Do It Again

Dear Zach,

It didn't take me long enough to brush up my resume and send it out to all the potential jobs being advertised online. The best part is: I actually do my searching in my office, right beside where my manager is sitting, it's just few feet away from my desk, but she couldn't notice what was happening in my monitor as she is too busy to notice me. I could not be bothered to get caught - that would be helpful if it does. I have not quit my job yet; Once I get a better offer, I'd definitely resign ASAP. I don't hate my job; I feel like my mind has been stalled for working for the past few months and I highly think that I was getting dumb by each minute sitting there, doing same thing, every single day.

Again. It is the third time I do this. Aimlessly sending out resume hoping for landing a good job.  

Talk About Dream

Dear Zach,

I came across this statement on Facebook in other day saying that "No one care if you are unhappy with your job. Your bills don't care if you are unhappy." Sadly, truthfully, and undeniably to say that this statement really struck me so hard. Indeed, I am unhappy with my job. I have my dream. I have my own vision. I want to do something I am passionate about. I want to quit my job tomorrow, and go after my dream to be a writer. To write a book. To publish articles on newspaper. Or, better yet, to get featured in Reader's Digest. To be an author. To get recognized by writing a heart-breaking novel that sell millions copies.

Only then I realized that I can't. Simply because I had no idea where to start.