(Jet City Boy Culture) The Rage That Stands Between Us!

A writer's journey of dating and living gay in Seattle exposed.

 by Tristan Wilde

It’s often said that there is a fine line between love and hate. In the world of dating, the idea of finding that special someone with whom we hope to eventually fall in love can easily eclipse any of the negative attributes found in our potential suitors. First dates and first kisses fill us with giddiness, instead of fear. Conversations are often thick with enthusiasm, not veiled threats. However, the more we get to know a person, the more we see their true nature. And sometimes, in that poignant realization, we discover that the person we thought we could love is nothing more than a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

EXCLUSIVE DEBUT! (Jet City Boy Culture) Emotional Dominance!

A writer's journey of dating and living gay in Seattle exposed.

by Tristan Wilde

There comes a point in the dating process in which the emotion of love begins to take over our thoughts and we grow closer to the person we've been seeing. This adoration typically comes after the nervousness of meeting our date for the first time, after the anticipation of that all-important first kiss. Once we become aware of this love, the game changes. It is at this point that we segue from dating a person to committing to them in a relationship. It's different for each person who participates in the ever-changing world of dating. For some, it takes going on several dates with the same person in order to achieve such feelings. For others, it becomes instant (giving credence to the idea of “love at first sight”). For me, these feelings came about after spending a romantic and intimate evening with Efrain in which I threw all my dating rules out the window.

After catching up on some much needed sleep, by taking a rare mid-day nap, I awaken to thoughts of the previous night. I am taken back to Efrain's deep kisses, his hard body, and his warm embrace. Last night was more than casual sex between two guys who had just gotten to know each other. It was more than two horny men using each other as tools to get off. There were emotions involved, an inherent compassion that can only be acknowledged by the act of making love. Yes, love. I had no doubt felt this the minute I walked into the door of my condo and ordered flowers to be delivered to Efrain's work. I am falling for him, and falling hard. Thoughts of Efrain flood my brain. I'm thankful I don't have any current writing deadlines for fear of not being able to remain focused.

Friday. Early afternoon. I grab my cell phone (otherwise known as my lifeline) and notice several text messages that were sent to me throughout the morning.

(BEST of 2013) Top 5 Columns!

Movie Freak's Fetters

In 2013, our columns were still holding strong and got more views then ever.  From Hollywood to Sydney to Seattle to Film reviews and beyond. 2013 was not great (Miley, etc.), but it did show that 2014 will be the Best Year ever. The following are the top 5 columns based on page views:

(Jet City Boy Culture) Breaking All the Rules!

A writer's journey of dating and living gay in Seattle exposed.

by Tristan Wilde

As a society, our day-to-day lives are vastly dictated by a number of rules. Some rules are put into place to maintain civility, while others are intended to incorporate trust and consistency into our actions. Certain rules have become such a staple to our existence, that they are common sense. For instance, we cannot expect to drive ninety-five miles per hour in a fifty-five mile per hour zone without realizing there’s a chance of being pulled over by the police. There are other rules that become new to us and to which we must grow accustom. For example, if we start a new job, the company’s employee guidelines will surely differ from those companies for which we’ve previously worked. Then there are those rules we bestow upon ourselves to maintain structure in our lives. Perhaps we go to bed at a certain time every night so that we can wake early enough to make the most of our day. These are not rules by which we have to live; rather, they are rules we choose to follow. However, there is one common denominator to all these rules. It’s quite simple. If we break the rules, there are usually consequences.

(Jet City Boy Culture) You’re Just My Type…But So Is He!

A writer's journey of dating and living gay in Seattle exposed.

 

by Tristan Wilde

In the world of dating and relationships, everyone has a type. Whether straight, gay, bisexual or alien, we all have certain characteristics to which we are attracted in our search for Mr. Right. It’s that automatic code in the human brain that instantly calculates the level of magnetism we experience when seeing another person. The complexities of science aside, it’s simply a matter of preference. Some prefer the guy with the washboard abs and ten-inch dick (the one who can often be found shirtless at the club because his narcissism is his best quality), while others go for the guy with the cute smile and who has the ability to engage in intellectual conversation. There are those who maintain a grocery list of qualifications for the men they date (“…he has to be under 30-years-old, 6’2″, 175lbs, 29-inch waist, two-percent body fat, green eyes, blond hair, seven-inch cut dick, no chest hair, a non-smoker, has less than two alcoholic drinks a day, owns a 2011 or later BMW, has a condo in Capitol Hill…”). Yeah, I know a few of those guys. I often ask them to advise me when they’ve found that particular guy who fits their “list.” To this day, those guys are all single. Still, there are others out there who don’t care if some of the qualities in which they seek in their ideal man vary from the preferences in mind. I’m one of those guys. Now, don’t get me wrong. While I don’t mind dating a guy who might not have every characteristic I prefer, there does have to be a degree of physical attraction. There does have to be a certain amount of chemistry to make any relationship work.

(Jet City Boy Culture) In the Company of Strangers!

A writer's journey of dating and living gay in Seattle exposed.

 

by Tristan Wilde

Never talk to strangers. As children, this is one of the first life lessons repeatedly taught to us. It’s drilled into our developing minds by our mothers as they send us off to school. We’re educated on the subject of “stranger danger” by elementary school teachers, in hopes that they’ll see our innocent faces in class the next day. If a stranger invites you into his car, run. If a stranger tries to talk to you, ignore him. Don’t let him tempt you with candy or money. Find an adult immediately. We’re taught the worst possible scenario. Ultimately, we grow up learning that strangers are capable of any number of heinous acts. But what happens when the stranger becomes the hero of the story? How do we react when the person we’re taught to avoid has become our savior?

I wake up in a tangle of damp sheets. The dull, gray light of an overcast day peeks at me through the vertical blinds of a bedroom I’ve never seen. I quickly panic and sit bolt upright. It feels like a fog has invaded my brain, limiting any clear thought. I’m thirsty; my tongue is veritably sticking to the roof of my mouth. I observe my surroundings and discover a cherry wood dresser bureau, a matching computer desk, and nightstands on either side of the bed in which I sit. Nothing but standard bedroom furniture. I’m in my underwear, which has me continuously attempting to recollect the events of last night. I instantly begin scanning the floor to locate my t-shirt and jeans.

(Jet City Boy Culture) The Hang-Out!

A writer's journey of dating and living gay in Seattle exposed.

 

by Tristan Wilde

We live in a world of masks. Whether one is interviewing for that ultimate dream job or trying to win over the family members of his lover, many make an effort to offer that all-important, lasting first impression. Every strand of hair should be in place; button-down shirts should be properly ironed, starched to perfection and free of any unsightly wrinkles. Fresh breath…check. Skin and clothing emitting the pleasant smell of the latest designer cologne…check. Sense of humor and total positiveness toward life…check. Reality check…none of it’s real. In fact, if I went off such first impressions, I’d be fucking half the guys I’ve met throughout the years. That’s not saying that I haven’t done such with a few of them. OK, maybe a number of them. Needless to say, first impressions have become passe. Any person with common sense knows this. This is the reason I began dating. After all, it always seems that true colors come out in due time. Those first impressions only last two to three dates tops. I’m more of the “be yourself” type of guy from the get-go. No bullshit. What you see is what you get.

(Jet City Boy Culture) The Vulnerability Factor!

A writer's journey of dating and living gay in Seattle exposed.

by Tristan Wilde 

They say that one of the key factors in finding true love is to allow yourself to be vulnerable. One must go into meeting his or her potential partner without any emotional baggage or unresolved feelings for past relationships. It’s neither a Pacific Northwest nor Southwest etiquette to dating; rather, it’s part of the universal code of love. I’ve seen it many times–the potential for a relationship between two people who appeared to have been “made for each other,” only to find that one was still hung-up on his ex. Metaphorical walls around the heart would block certain elements of an emotional connection. Thus, the potential for said relationship came to a halt. It could have been love, but the power of love lost has a voracious appetite that doesn’t let up if you fight it. Let it eat. Feel the pain. Endure. Move on. Only then are you ready for the potential of a new relationship.

DEBUT! (Jet City Boy Culture) A New Beginning and The Stylist!

A writer's journey of dating and living gay in Seattle exposed.

by Tristan Wilde

So there’s this guy that I’ll call The Stylist. Our meeting starts out as nothing more than a friendly, “Happy Birthday” gesture made on my Facebook timeline. I’m one of those people who has thousands of “friends” on the social networks, and The Stylist is one such “friend” who I don’t personally know. Nonetheless, his post comes at just the right time in the early morning (before it gets buried beneath thousands of other birthday messages) and I send him a private message thanking him for the kind gesture. Although I’m tired and just getting ready for bed (it’s 3 o’clock in the morning, mind you), he immediately responds to my message. He asks me where I’m at in Seattle (obviously noticing my location shown on my profile). I tell him that I’m in the northern part of the city, adding that I just moved here from Phoenix. Within seconds, he responds back with, “I used to live in Scottsdale. We should go for coffee or drinks soon.” I reply back from my smartphone since I can barely keep my eyes open and have already crawled into bed. “Sounds good. Send me your number and we’ll coordinate.”