:: The Secret Fuck

How many of us had one of those sex dates with someone they knew they would be totally ashamed even mentioning them in their own minds? The whole package, starting from their personality and look till the way you had sex, spawning through the conversations that you tried to have or fake in order to find any positive aspect to explain the humiliating act that you would be doing?

Let me introduce you my shame: Sherif. A 25 years old single guy, destiny made him across my way on a Saturday morning while I was browsing online Cairo gay users on Yahoo! Chat rooms. He had a nice picture displaying his body, a good shot of his face, showing some cute features and a promising 7 inch tool. When I started chatting with him, I lost interest when I discovered that he types only in Arabic: since Internet is a western creation, then when in Rome, do as the Romans do! I tried selecting easier vocabulary so I would be able to communicate with him since I cannot chat in Arabic under any circumstances. Sherif did his best answering in English but that made the whole dislike/disgust grow bigger. I asked him to answer in whatever language he mastered to ease the impact of the Jebrish I was reading. I had to get along with all that because he looked attractive; we don't talk much in bed anyway -no need for fancy English if we were going for a one fuck night.

After a short chat, Sherif asked if we could meet. I was horny and his turn on body, hot butt shot and trendy cock made me accept on the spot. I asked where to meet, he said: "Meet me at Manshyiet al Sadr subway station". Manshyiet al Sadr Station is a subway station in one of the most crowded and poorest sectors in Cairo, whenever I take the subway, other than feeling disgusted with the smells and lack of fresh air, that station is somehow packed with hot guys, since it is considered the nearest subway station to Ain Shams University. I arrived there on time, parked the car infront of the subway's exist and waited for Sherif to appear. I kept looking at boys, butts, chests, hotties walking in and out the station; waiting for my chat hunk date to come over.

A couple of minutes later, I recognized the face that I saw earlier in my 96 x 96 square on the right of the chat window (allowing me to see either the face of the naked body) but I haven't recognized this Fashion Bomb that had perfectly exploded in him before he left home: the worst color match I've ever seen, I am not criticizing the cheap labels and quality he was wearing: he had the worst taste in mixing a classic (cheap) black leather shoe with used (cheap) unrecognizable color strange fabric jeans under a (cheap) unknown cut shirt with 1 missing button and the strangest brown drawings on it. When I made sure that he was my date, I just turned my head and mumbled: "God! Shady, you'll hate me for this!". I faked a smile, turned back and greeted Sherif. I knew that he actually came directly to meet me after work. We quickly went inside the car and I drove away, thinking how to get rid of the guy. It was a big mistake from the beginning, I shouldn't have kept a chat with a person who doesn't know the difference between "p" and "b". I should have blocked him when he said: "do u go 2 bubs?" or when he had no clue what the heck I was talking about when I mentioned Madonna, The Trentemøller, Alanis Morissette, Mariah Carey or anything else except some Arabic songs, and not the good ones either. I felt like I was Karen Walker comparing to him; including how uncomfortable I felt when he sat next to me; thinking that he hadn't had a shower earlier, coming directly after a long working day isn't a turn-on at all. While driving, I kept on quickly looking at his actions; he was one of those guys who don't stop touching their cocks whenever they have the chance, either fixing it, making sure it is under their underwear or simply, as was in my case, trying to show off the bulge he had already. I quickly asked him where he would go; planing my usual scenario when I want to get rid of a date: go to On The Run (a quick coffee shop in Mobil gas stations), have coffee together, talk a little then fake the important work related phone call, thanks to the alarm in my mobile phone.

"Let's go to Grand Café"; he said. That wasn't expected, he totally screwed up my plan. I just smiled and drove quietly to the place. Once we reached the café, I ordered a Raspberry Tini -I surely needed alcohol, he had a regular Tea (as expected). I was thinking about the next step, where was he going from there? He had a sexy body that was worth a one night stand nothing else. Drinks, talk, chat.. that wasn't in my agenda; not with him anyway. When I found the whole outing too silent, I decided giving Sherif a chance to talk in order to discover or at least try to find something positive in his mind. Without any notice; he said: "I am christian". I looked at my Martini glass, shacked the mix a little then answered: "Yeah.. and?". Sherif said: "I just wanted to tell you. I don't say that, but I want you to know". I couldn't understand what he was meaning. I just looked at him and said: "Yes.. and?". He went in deep silence again. I felt too guilty because of my shallow answer, apparently he had faced some pretty unpleasant situations because of his belief, I thought. I replied after a short break: "Well; religion is something that you share with God directly. Whatever your belief is; it is personal, I don't care even if you're Buddhist as long as you are good to me and to people who are around you". I couldn't help but remember Emad, my greek god; I recalled telling him something similar to this, but I truly meant what I said under a totally different scenario and moment, the mixed feelings and confusion I lived, it wasn't just a simple answer to kill the silence. Sherif felt comfortable and started talking, apparently that thing was making a serious trouble for him. He started telling me about the church, how he serves there and the different activities they offer. I was listening, mostly thinking about how he would look like naked and shut up. I tried making a talk that turned into a Mormon Missionary speech. I quickly finished my couple of drinks, asked for cheque and decided that we would leave. I was driving back when I felt really turned on because he was closer and the Martini cocktails were going in my blood stream, I totally forgot the turn-offs that he was loaded with next to his gorgeous body. I wanted to sleep with him, but I didn't want him to know where I live; I haven't even given him my phone number. I kept thinking on how to reach a middle ground. For the first time ever, I found myself reaching for his cock while driving. Sherif kind of freaked, but liked it. I felt his tool growing under my gentle pressure. I softly moved my hand to touch his stomach, touching the fine hair covering his abdominal area. Sherif moved his hand to touch me as I slowed down, looked at both mirrors, kissed him while taking out his cock. Although the street was totally dark, Sherif was feeling uncomfortable. I felt the same, since I never tried acting this boldly in a car before. It was impossible for me to take him home, I didn't want to do the same mistake twice. Sherif was willing to go for more, but his constant looking around sudden movements were irritating both him and me. I started moving again. Sherif kept asking me if there was any place we could stay together; any place we could have more privacy. I was very tempted by the idea, but totally refusing to let him into my building. It would be a serious trouble if he decided to pay me a visit anytime he needs a fuck, and I sensed that he was one of those people. I kept driving in circles around Heliopolis when it stroke me: My Office! It was the safest place I could take him to; simply because locating it is not as easy as my house, it is in a place where a lot of side streets interfere creating a maze, and Sherif wasn't good in Heliopolis since he kept asking me about very known places along the way. Other than that, we were about to move out of the building by the end of the week to our new offices. Moreover, nobody is there at that time: total security.

Music on, high lights, some unnecessary detours and streets to make sure he doesn't know where we were, extra alcohol courage, I reached my building. I walked into my office and instantly Sherif took off his clothes and grabbed me, he was acting like a real Cancer. "Digg, you're so hot. I could barely resist holding myself in the car. I want you, so much". He started kissing me, violently. He was too aggressive to the point I asked him to stop what he was doing when he was sucking on my nipples. I felt great pain, in every place he put his mouth on. His teeth marks were visible on my hips, chest and neck. I wanted to get in touch with his firm body more, as well as his more than 7 inch big dick; but he was too active and horny to stay silent while I operated on him, in the correct way. He just turned me around and wanted to have intercourse, that easy, that quick! I felt disoriented, before I even open my mouth to object on what he was about to do, I felt his warm semen on my back. I smiled, laughed, then looked at him and said: "Dude! What has just happened?". Sherif looked at me, and held me close saying: "You were too hot, I couldn't control it. I wanted to extend it, but I couldn't anymore. Would you like to go for another round in a few?". Of course I said no, a plain NO. I then went to the shower to clean up and oriented him to the other one; that would have been worse if he decided to join me in that too. I was already in pain with what he did out there; Noway he would keep doing that. While showering, I checked my nipples which were actually bleeding. His bites were marked deeply in my skin: I was certain that I was about to spend a while without thinking to have sex, what would my next date think when he sees something like that on body. I quickly finished and found him standing outside, his hand on his penis. That wasn't a good sign at all. I told him that we had to move, since there could be any person coming. He tried hugging me, but I had no time for cuddles, I had no desire for him. It was a disaster; and it kept on going worse and worse.

While going out of the building, the security guy was standing there. At first, he hadn't recognized me walking down, then he looked at me and said: "Sir, is everything alright?". I just mumbled: "Yeah, all is cool, my friend here had a problem with..", I looked at Sherif, he had a problem everywhere, "... he needed the bathroom. Thanks, all is okay!". I quickly went to my car and left the place. While driving, Sherif started talking about how great that was. I couldn't understand how could he use the world sex with what we did back there, how could he actually use any adjective next to it. That was absolutely nothing, totally undescribable: That was horrible!

A couple of seconds later, Sherif restarted his Mormon Speech. I didn't want to hear a word, I just wanted to drop him off and block him from my Yahoo! This time, Sherif talked about how difficult it was for Christians to live among Muslims in Egypt. I didn't care at first, I wasn't going to have a debate with him anyway; but he grabbed my attention when he said: "Well; Christianity is all about love, devotion, helping hand, forgiveness, peace.. not like Islam, you guys call for murder, terrorism!" I stopped the car. This was too much from a Sadist, biting, blood sucking asshole. I answered: "Sherif! You're Egyptian! You live here and know how things go. We are alike; I never heard of problems between Muslims and Christians. If you were someone from abroad I would have said that the Media had influenced you, but; how could you say that? What have Muslims done to you?". He tried to find an answer, I kept on talking: "I just can't understand how you actually say that, out of nothing! Do you think those guys with guns are even Muslims? Do you think the total brain wash they do to others in order to blindly follow unbelievable intentions? Those suicidal bombers who blow and kill more of their own people than the enemy?". Sherif answered, quickly: "I know that you hate us, you never like us. We are living in a country ruled by Muslims so we have to follow what they say". That was beyond my expectations. I couldn't understand or even communicate with someone having such a mentality. How could he classify people, in Egypt, based on their belief? How could a gay guy say this? Are we that contradicting ourselves? Are we faking to live the open minded life, rainbow skies, freedom of speech but we actually don't believe in any of this deep inside of us? Do we still live in the Religion dilemma and haven't reached the gay life balance yet? I can remember some of my friends or dates who are actually lost in many of these thoughts, might be different situations, but the same base remains standard: Not being able to understand that variation exists. With a simple word, Sherif classified Muslims as Terrorists. I couldn't be sure whether he knew that I am a Terrorist or not; but I made it clear. Our discussion and the whole meeting was going worse; I couldn't bare someone that narrow minded and bad in sex as well.

Once we reached the subway station, I dropped Sherif off and left directly. He asked for my phone, I insisted that we should keep our talks on Yahoo!, that if we decided to keep each other's contacts. How could he trust a Terrorist anyway! On my way home, I kept thinking about how hard it is to find a suitable person, even as a fuck buddy. Sherif had just a little too much of everything in him, but mainly almost all people I met had a little something from the package. I raised my stereo's volume, listening to Maroon 5's Harder to breathe, thinking about how quickly I wanted to go to my place just to clean up that bleeding nipple I came out with from this... shame!

:: The Wake-Up Call

" Baby, look what we've become
We can make a million promises
But we still won't change
It isn't right to stay together
When we only bring each other pain "

- Mariah Carey.

Being best friend with Samer has made some radical changes in me during our friendship way that grew slowly, with time, making us gain trust in each other first then influence each other's decisions and making sure we can now totally brighten each other's moods, believing in our good intentions. Being best friend with Samer made me also go deeper inside his hedged maze relationship he was having with Jack. I believe that I should bring up his topic after all this time, now that he needs to understand what he is going through.

Meet Jack: A successful good looking mid twenties man. He follows a certain career that ensures him a good income and a decent guaranteed life style. Jack is a sweet guy, most people agree upon his good manners, appropriate behavior and balanced low toned way of talking. He's smart, smarter than what shows his delicate features and cute looks.

Meet Samer: My best friend.

I stepped into their life near its end. Samer needed a friend, someone who could skip the "Hot body! Hot looks! Can we get laid?" to the "Samer, talk to me!" part. Most of people he met were just for an intimate time, none survived to be a friend. I don't believe that this was his direct choice since the way he looked like was screaming for a fuck, and only a fuck. We met during a calm early autumn night, when your heart starts feeling as fragile as those falling leaves you step on while walking by the side walk. We talked around a cup of coffee. He wanted to talk, and I listened. I listened to his relationship that was almost ending. Listened to his pain describing how things are too complicated to be solved. He was accused of being the reason why their love life came to an end. He admitted that he had that bad temper, but he never wanted to end what was going on between both of them. Someone who really was for him, after sharing 3 years of their lives. I couldn't make any decision after hearing his side of the story. I had to listen to Jack's version. If they needed me to judge, I should be able to see the situation clearer.

Several weeks later, I met Jack. We sat all three and I gave him all my focus. I could see a confused young man. A guy who couldn't stick to one opinion since you could totally influence him if you spoke in a certain confident way. Jack was in the I am lost phase. Although he started talking about all those negative points and moments he had with Samer, in a certain limit since I was a total stranger; I felt that he was making up the whole misunderstanding between both of them: his problem was deeply rooted inside of his own soul more than what he claimed was going in their relationship. The way he was exposing his feelings and true emotions were very confusing yet honest and true if understood in the correct way. I sensed that Jack needed someone who could hear him, someone he could trust. I knew later that he was actually seeking gay friends who fit his criteria and standard to be able to hang out, have dinner or simply gossip. Later on, I felt that Jack was jealous that Samer not only had the attractive hot looks, but got a new good best friend.

The break-up was evident. Their life had become a nightmare, so did Samer's life after the break-up. He lived haunted by Jack. Not only haunted by his memories, but by his existence. Jack never decided stepping back or managing his own life alone away from Samer but he founded himself as a pillar in Samer's life; knowing that they cannot be separated yet cannot live together anymore. Slowly, their lives started moving on, but their shadows were on each other's path.

Soon after, which I saw as a true rebound guy, Samer started dating Marwan. I knew about their relationship as well as the fact that Samer was looking for someone to pull him out of the mess he found himself drowning in, by running into them accidentally in Jardino cruising together. I always met Samer drunk, flirting his Rebound Guy and distant. The break-up was affecting him deeply, and seriously. Marwan knew that Samer was having him as a boyfriend just in hope that he would feel better, and probably make Jack jealous and think again about their love life. This had a mere effect on the desired way Samer wanted to happen: Jack only felt more miserable and broken. The fake rebound-relation didn't last long, Samer hated the way he was fooling himself as well as hated the love bites that were on Marwan's neck, and they weren't Samer's. They ended that transitional fun period, specially that Marwan preferred taller guys!

That's when I started seeing the real picture. Jack couldn't leave Samer. Samer couldn't live without Jack. They both were still in contact, as they used to, except for the physical encounters. Jack decided to turn Samer into a friend to whom he can tell everything and confess about all what he does, with whom he can be totally himself, since who could know him better than Samer, his 3 years lover and worshipper? Samer followed what Jack intended, he always answered him, he always asked about him, he always cared for him and accepted his fate, the way Jack was drawing it. At that point, Samer took a promise to slow down, practically cut, with all the dates he was having. He didn't want to hurt Jack's feelings anymore. He always saw Jack as the a pure person, fragile and weak which made Samer promise him ultimate protection. And naivety, if I can say my word.

My friendship with Samer grew bigger with every passing day. Jack's feelings towards me started changing negatively: I was the one who was sharing his Samer. This closer friendship made me see deeper in their situation and that was when I got amazed: all the strong looks that Samer has, the huge self confidence and the tremendous popularity were reset to zero when I saw his deep soul. Jack's affect on Samer was greater than what the American's nuclear bombs did in Japan. At least the Japanese grew stronger afterwards, not enslaved, blindly following The One. Jack was dating someone that time, hoping that he would be a potential lover, built on his own standards and rules. Meanwhile, Jack decided returning back to Samer, sexually. Not only having sex together, pressuring and convincing him that he couldn't find love elsewhere, but forcing Samer not to have any other sexual encounters with any other person. It was the relationship based on Jack's standards and needs. Whenever Samer and I joined a party and Jack was around, he made sure how to make the night turn into hell. If he isn't there, he'll double check that he had sent his friends who would report every single step, look, dance, cigarette smoked and cocktail drank Samer had. He would also SMS him, making sure that his haunt is complete. He wouldn't mind calling in the middle of the high beat, music and sweat reclaiming Samer's total attention.. making him move away from the crowd, and then coming back and sitting silently, leaving both alcohol and Jack's words turn in his distant mind. I understood why the negative feelings were targeting me: I was the other force in Jack's equation. He never saw me coming.

Samer's love for Jack isn't a simple crush, it is rooted inside of him. He understands all the plans and games done by Jack; but amazingly, he is under his spell. Jack always played with the card of innocence, making use of his cute harmless looks and great deal of love Samer is still having. Jack is always depressed, down, lost, tortured and the reason was Samer. He made him totally believe that the actual Jack situation was done by Samer's arrogance and pride during their relationship. Whenever Samer snaps at what is going on, Jack manages fixing and calming him down, reproducing his net around Samer's existence and life. My best friend doesn't have sex, he is not allowed to actually, on the other hand Jack is still searching for mister right guy. I could notice Samer, under his well controlled appearance, a shake when he receives an SMS or when his phone rings. Samer's mood became negative all the time: imagine a fire, and someone keeps feeding it with gas and wood -that's what Jack keeps on doing by his calls, gifts, SMSs and sex visits. Samer lost a great deal of his self confidence as well as trust in himself and others, because Jack's existence fed on those. From time to time, Samer lets something out and tells me about it which makes me feel anger on how he is totally controlled by someone who enjoys control to reach his own goals on others' account. Jack knows very well when to talk and when to shut up, he is making sure the rope he put around Samer's neck is always connected.. he pulls when it is time, and lets go when he feels rage. Jack has perfectly managed making Samer believe that he is the master of his own decisions, but he cannot understand that every decision is just a projection of what Jack really wants, and whenever Samer goes off scenario, Jack knows how to make him get back where he lost track by his different successful ways. Jack turned into one of them, one of the freaks on the loose, in his own way. Samer's old love is still blinding him, he doesn't see that Jack not only moved on, but he gets all his satisfaction whether sexual or mental from him. Sympathy he requires, attention he needs and focus he reclaims. After all, someone who enjoys a certain role, is not ready to give it up to someone else -or so he says; right, Samer?

S, honey, please; wake up!

_____________________________________________________
Please comment -S. really needs to read this.

:: That's My Prerogative

" People can take everything away from you
But they can never take away your truth
But the question is..
Can you handle mine? "

- Britney Spears.

Since we coexist among homophobes, straights, allegedly straights and gays in denial; we have faced some pretty frustrating moments and other fun ones. The dates we actually get laid with swing between hot and passionate ones to the what-the-hell-am-I-doing-here ones. When it comes to embarrassing moments in public or with friends, we can remember a long list of funny things that would entertain us even before we share it with others. Being gay makes you always see the world in a different perspective than others, since you are in touch with your inner self as well as having your systems always alerted (either for hunting other men or paying attention not to blow your cover for those group of people who would really disdain you if they knew). How much can you venture? How honest can you be? How would it be, if you were in my shoes?

It was early Autumn 1998, when I had this date with a french guy living in Heliopolis. We chatted on gay.com heavy Java chat rooms, exchanged numbers and decided to have some passionate hot sex. I hesitated when the time came, I was on my early dating days back then, and it was freaking me out, meeting someone just for sex and go. I told him that I would be all in white (it was fashion back then!) and that I would wait for him in front of KFC Merghany street, since he lived nearby. It was already 6:30 and I had a couple of more blocks to run in order to reach the spot. 6:36 and I haven't found him standing there as agreed -I was 6 minutes late. I noticed someone, matching the description that he had given me earlier walking away (there were no pictures back then to confirm how you would really look like: all people were "hot", "cute", "sexy", "fit", "brown hair", "black/hazel/green/blue eyes", some numbers reflecting height and weight and of course, a huge load of good luck that you might even accept having coffee with them when you would meet). I quickly ran towards that guy and asked him whether he was Sébastien or not. I was in luck (not like what happened later with Adel). He checked me out quickly and obviously I have passed the test, since he invited me over his place.

When I walked in, I found his house very comfortable. It was more like a studio, but a well organized one. Suddenly, a little puppy popped up out of nowhere. I could barely distinct it from the brown carpet. It kept jumping and barking while I was looking at it with amazement: how sure of itself, this little, tiny doggy was! Sébastien practically moved the little piece of ornament away while it kept jumping, now with much lower barking tone, in a separate room. Swiftly, Sébastien put his hand on my ass and started kissing my neck. He was in a hurry, I was horny. We instantly moved on his bed and started making out. His tongue was going all the way down my back, making me shiver when he reached my butt. His hot saliva was turning me on, his hot breathe was gently blowing on my skin. While he was kissing me on my neck, I felt his tongue on my hip. I was confused! How could he be that good, reaching two spots at the same time, or was that his tool, loaded with precum, giving me that sensation? The licking was going harder in a couple of seconds when I decided to turn around: the jumping-barking piece of carpet was there! Obviously the moving piece of ornament decided to join us in sex. I quickly moved away and felt disgusted: what the hell was that! A dog licking my hip while his owner kissing my neck? Sébastien laughed and pushed the dog off the bed. I was feeling uncomfortable, and I wanted to shower at that point. The dog was on the floor, looking at us, worse than Eddy staring at Frasier! I asked Sébastien if we could stop at that point, which was impossible for him since he was starting his high engines. A couple of minutes later, we heard knocking on the door. Was the little brown ball hair rebelling now, that we kicked him out of his most wanted threesome? Actually it was one of his roommates. Sébastien suddenly lost his erection, his engines cooled down in less than a minute and was asking me to get dressed and leave from the kitchen door. I felt relieved that I will be leaving this crazy animal sex place, but felt so cheap when the kitchen door was slapped shut as soon as I walked out.

I think I should have shot that dog. That would have been my prerogative!

Last winter, I chatted with Shady from gayDar and we decided meeting soon after. I was in Cilantro Café in Maadi, waiting for him to reach the place. He kept on calling me several times, since the taxi driver decided to take him in a cruise before reaching where I was; matter of squeezing a few extra pounds. I met a stylish young man, perfumed, selecting the finest brand names to wear, the right color match. We had one of the rare smart conversations that you would have with a new date. The whole outing was nice and light; the coffee tasted good, the perfume he wore smelled nice, his overall look felt elegant. Shady kept talking about many things, we have clicked quickly because not only we both worked in the same field, but he was smart and knew how to say correct sentences, flirt and tease.

While leaving the place, I insisted on driving Shady back to his hotel: I wouldn't like such a stylish and elegant guy be tortured again with another cab driver. I was on the highway, driving, while listening to music and continuing our talks. He knew about fashion, alcohol, sex and fun! He was the model fag. A couple of minutes later, the car wasn't going right. I quickly took side in that open road and stepped out. We had to change the front tire! I felt so embarrassed. I couldn't maintain one full correct night with him; I know the car couldn't! Shady quickly stepped out of the car, opened the trunk and the nicely perfumed, well dressed guy was ready to change the dirty, disgusting tire. We were laughing, I was blushing. I did my best keeping him away from all this fuss, but he was making sure that everything was correct and the bolts were correctly installed. "The only positive thing is that I could casually check out your butt while you were leaning forward to work on the tire", he said. Shady managed seeing the bright side of the incident! I always thought about how embarrassing could be, serious incidents on a very good first date. My imagination never pictured me how severe could that be, I had to try it.

Later that week; I was invited to a gathering party by a foreign friend. When I walked in the place, Shady was there. We continued our talks, this time with alcohol instead of coffee, which made Shady all flirty, sexy and touchy. The whole evening was relaxing. I decided to leave, and wanted to drive him correctly that time, back to his Hotel. We stepped in the elevator, pressed on the Ground Floor button. The next second, we were making out. Shady squeezed the Stop button and we were somewhere between the 8th and the 7th floor. His hand sliding down my back, squeezing my ass; mine reaching for his crotch, squeezing on his lips, feeling the passion as he kissed me deeper and deeper. He kept on pressing the Stop button, since someone was obviously calling the elevator from the ground floor. Several stops, more kisses, a couple of wrong clicks on the "alarm" button that announced the fire that was going between both of our hot male bodies in the whole building. We lost sense of time in that cubicle, alarm ringing, alcohol, elevator is being called.. we stopped. Quickly, we fixed our clothes, trying to control our tools, now that they were obviously bulging under our tight pants. The doors opened. A security guy was looking at us in a very strange way, we looked drunk and gay.. it was embarrassing, but alcohol managed to make us feel very cool about it. We moved out of the building while the security guy kept following us with his eyes. We burst into laughter once we stepped out of the place.

Who cares about the guy? Enjoying a crazy moment in an elevator with a hot guy is my prerogative!

I never considered a straight person as a close friend of mine, since I would be hiding my sexual orientation. How open we could be to each other, how loyal or helpful, there is this something that I am keeping away from them that prevents me from calling them best buddies! This goes to almost all people I know, except Mohamed. Although a couple of other people who know about my sexual orientation, Mohamed is actually my best straight friend. We met in a very gay-like scenario: a message on Hi5, a chat and a phone number exchange. When we decided to meet, Mohamed proposed that we would go to watch Finding Nemo. When we first met, I felt some attraction to the guy: he looked cute and very fun. I couldn't really understand whether he was gay or straight, but I decided to play along: Mohamed was a good friend in both cases. One full year passed, I wasn't sure about his sexual orientation. He had a girlfriend, I never saw him fooling around with girls; and I really felt happy when I used to go out with him. One day, Mohamed told me while we were talking about the latest Will & Grace episode: "You know what, Digg, I always wanted to have a gay friend." -was he hinting something? A couple of months later, after deep thinking, I decided coming out to him; I couldn't bare losing a good friend like him but I also wanted everything to be clear. We met in Elvis Cafe; I waited for the right moment and started:

"Mohamed, you told me once that you always wanted a gay friend.."

"Yeah", he answered, while guessing what I was talking about.

"Well; you already do have one!".

I waited. The seconds that followed this declaration were like decades. Mohamed just took a smoke then told me:

"Well; I always felt it. You are so neat in everything: you pick your words; you are always taking care of what you wear and you know how to be real fun!" I sighed. To be honest; I was wishing that he would come out too; since this little crush I was having towards him needed to be fulfilled. He was straight, one of the rare totally straight guys. Mohamed and I are still best friends till this very moment; I wouldn't trade anything inthe world for him. How comfortable it is to be yourself with someone who really accepts you for who you truly are.

Him knowing about me, this is his total prerogative.

People never stop talking about each other, gossiping about everything they can nibble on; but one thing remains the same, you always rule your own decisions, you always follow your own way. How many of us erased their personalities or altered their intentions just because they were influenced by any of the outer factors? How many are willing to trade their lives for others, forgetting that their own existence and unique personality is precious in its form? How many of us forgot what they were really seeking from the first place because of some moments in life made them break down, lose focus or simply lost track? I always keep one thing in mind when I am put in a choice: it's my life, it's my decision, it's my prerogative.