Distancing myself from Ryan

Ryan: Can I hold your hand?



Me: Errr.....

We were in his car. Before I even I had the time to rationalize his sudden and bold attempt to do so, I could already feel the warmth of his palm on mine.

I was flabbergasted.

No. I didn't enjoy it. I didn't feel the jittery rush of adrenaline I experienced when Efkay held my hand in his car. Neither did I have the erection that almost immediately developed when he started caressing my thigh, making my heart beat erratically with extreme excitement and lust.

Ryan's a friend of mine. We've been hanging out pretty much for the past one year. Our relationship, or more precisely, friendship, is completely platonic. He's totally not my type.

I always have the tendency to become very shy in the presence of someone I find hot, or someone who's so my type and whom I have a crush on. I stammer. I blush. I become tongue-tied and clumsy. I say ludicrous things that embarrass me. Sometimes, I feel inferior too, especially if the guy is very attractive. Thousands of thoughts will be racing through my mind. Am I hot today? Does he like the scent of the cologne I'm wearing? Is my tummy still protuberant after a voluntary effort to contract my rectus abdominis muscles hopelessly buried under multiple layers of abdominal fat? Do I look slim? Is my facial fat very obvious? Does he think I'm fat? Do I sound a like no-brainer? Do I look too desperate?  Simply put,  I experience something which can be summed up in a Chinese phrase -- 小鹿乱撞。

I don't really have a gay friend in where I'm studying. I don't have a clan like some of the bloggers. Or a group of best gay friends with whom you occasionally have meals and watch movies together. Hence, I hang out with Ryan for he's the only one who seems to be available. Owing to the fact that I'm not attracted to him physically, sexually and intellectually, I don't feel pressured. I talk whatever I want with him without the fear of being judged. I always meet him in flip-flops and sloppily dressed, unless we are going to places which require us to be dressed to kill.

Despite the numerous hints that he wants something more than friendship, I pay heed to none of them and just play dumb, assuming that he'd be brilliant enough to get the message. I've never exploited his kindness, as in letting him foot the bills when we hang out or buy me gifts, in order not to create a misunderstanding.

So, when Ryan held my hand, I was struck dumb with astonishment and confusion for a few seconds. And I could literally feel my perspiration trickling down my forehead.

I ingeniously switched our topic of conversation and politely pushed his hand away. I told him I wanted to show him the well-healed scar that had formed on my finger after I injured in accidentally 2 weeks ago.

Oh ya. Another thing. In spite of being intermittently horny, I loathe unnecessary physical contact. And for some inexplicable reason, Ryan's been doing that a lot lately, causing me considerable discomfort. He seems to have a particular liking for caressing my shoulders and touching my tummy. And I'm not even muscular or hot to begin with. My urge to warn him against doing that was only prevented by a reluctance to hurt his feelings.

I guess for the time being, I need to distance myself from him temporarily, although this means I might lose a friend and continue to delve deeper into loneliness.  Besides, I need to learn to say no whenever the situation calls for it. My lack of assertiveness has many a time been misconstrued as a form of acceptance and frailty. And that's when people think that their love is requited and make advances (physically).

Aih. My prince, where are you?