There’s two sides of me.
One is Matrix Lennard, cool, in control, super hot and capable of dodging bullets if only for showing off.
It’s the Lennard I hope the Guy of my dreams will see in me.
Then there’s just Lennard, my actual self, insecure, needy and incapable of dodging insults.
Guys I am attracted to are often a lot like Matrix Lennard. Whenever I run into a super hot Guy that has the slightest echo of a personality, I fantasize about the two of us living a perfectly sleek gaytopian fairytale in which we celebrate each other’s perfection.
It’s a pleasant albeit dysfunctional mirage, about as real as the Matrix itself.
The Guys that are attracted to me tend to be a far cry from the Guys I fantasize about.
Guy #178 was such a guy. He saw in me the super great awesome Guy I wish people will write books about someday. He expressed his admiration by becoming a saggy sack of compliments that got wetter each time we kissed.
Guy #178 was probably one of the sweetest Guys I ever dated. I could do no wrong. I could ignore him on WhatsApp a thousand times and let him rejoice the one time I didn’t. I could cancel a date at the last minute for the sake of going on a better looking one, and he would completely understand. I could tell him to continue doing oral even when his jaws started showing signs of old age, and he’d be happy to.
Guy #178 was without a doubt one of the most annoying people I ever dated. He idolized the worst in me, and reminded me of the parts I thought were even worse than that.
Yet I went on a date with him a total of 5 times. And each time I felt annoyed and regretted spending time with him.
My relationship with Guy #178 was like seeing Sharknado and then somehow investing in its 4 sequels, each time wondering why.
So why are there people who’ve seen Sharknado 1 through 5 and why am I one of those people?
The sex with Guy #178 was about as satisfying as the special effects in a Sharknado movie: silly but somehow rewarding, because you know you will never be as dumb as that movie. Likewise, the sex was as spectacular as an actual sharknado is likely, but it did make me feel like I was by far the coolest, securest and catchiest Guy at the scene. Guy #178 made me feel like Matrix Me, even though I resented him for being a nerdy sidekick that failed to live up to my own image.
My life at the time wasn’t going great. I was hopelessly in love with Guy #168, a gorgeous Guy I had met at this orgy this one time. He was everything Matrix Lennard ached for, and as such all but unreachable. Whenever I ran into him, I would lapse into endless monologues about how much I admired his personality, his accomplishments, his body and his personality. Guy #168 always got uncomfortable by me giving him the Messiah treatment, which I remedied by giving even more compliments. The harder I tried, the more he distanced himself from me.
Guy #168 was the perfect match for Matrix Lennard. Sadly though, Matrix Lennard failed to load each time I saw him. The only side Guy #168 got to see was my actual self, desperate, needy and highly capable of dodging hints from a Guy that appreciated his own space as if it was his to own.
Few things are more frustrating than being incapable of being more than you in front of someone you want to be more than you with.
During all of this I spent my days taking care of my ailing stepdad, constantly surrounded by illness, decay and steadily approaching death. I had no job, no social life to speak of and had gotten addicted to weed, spending large parts of my days in a haze Matrix Me couldn’t reach me.
A sharknado was just what I needed.
Enter Guy #178, someone who annoyed me to no end with his compliments, his never ending attention and less than perfect looks.
On our third or fourth date I had smoked a joint in advance to ease myself into it. Minutes after starting foreplay on his couch, the weed kicked in much stronger than I had anticipated. I got dizzy and made it to the toilet just when my Burger King dinner resurfaced. As I clung to Guy #178’s toilet, puking my guts out and silently resenting my life and everything in it, Guy #178 constantly hovered over me, asking if I was okay, if I needed a towel, if there was anything he could do. And then he just started caressing my shoulder, almost as if his mind was still on foreplay.
I believe everyone on Earth knows but a very few people they would like to be touched by when they’re coasting down a bad trip hanging in the aura of their own vomit while clinging to someone else’s toilet. Guy #178 was not one of those people. I was high, depressed, nauseous and could only think of Guy #168, and what he would think of me if he’d see me failing at my life the way I was. Instead of enjoying my gaytopian lifestyle with Guy #168, Guy #178 was occupying my space like a fly circling around my head, capable of dodging everything you throw at it.
Guy #178 reminded me of me a lot. Although Matrix Lennard has all the makings of a movie star, my self loathing self is actually a much nicer person, as was Guy #178.
When you sit through one half of a Sharknado movie whilst having no life to speak of, it’s easy to succumb to everything that’s wrong with a sharknado. My life was a mess, but at the very least it made more sense than a Guy dodging sharks with a chainsaw as they were falling from the sky.
So after I was done vomiting Guy #178 and I proceeded to have sex. Despite being a jerk to him, puking in his toilet and over his bathroom floor and resenting him for being so relentlessly nice and devoted, Guy #178 wanted me for the Matrix Lennard he saw in me.
I fought not to admit it, but part of me liked being admired by Guy #178. And in a way, I grew to respect him for staying true to his own character all the time, annoying as it was.
We stopped dating eventually, not because I didn’t want to give him more of my attention, but because he moved to another country.
Yet whenever I think of him, I know how irritating he was, but what I remember is him doing his very best to take care of me after puking through foreplay. And I remember me waking up next to him the following morning because of it.
When you watch a Sharknado movie, you can’t help but loathe yourself for wasting your time on something so obviously stupid. But when you remember that time you watched Sharknado, it’s impossible to hide a faint but definite smile. Somehow, for reasons as mystifying as life’s biggest unanswered questions, a sharknado makes you feel like Matrix You for a while.
Thank you, Guy #178, for being as annoying as I am.