Tell me it isn’t just me.

You’ve just met a great guy– be it online, walking down the street, at a bar- and you’ve gone home with him. Everything’s clicking, he’s hot- you’re hot- you guys are laughing and getting along and things have progressed how they should into the bedroom (briefly back into the kitchen and ankles in the air atop the island somehow) and you both end up in a sweaty mess across his sheets, panting, out of breath, fully released and feeling amazing. And then, immediately after you’ve delivered your pay load like a Russian space rocket, your body and brain tell you to GET THE FUCK OUT!

Now, I’m not going to bore you with talk of Oxytocin and other sexually released chems, but rather discuss that overwhelming urge that I have- and maybe others do as well- to bolt like Superman breaking the sound barrier immediately following orgasm. Personally, I don’t need to see how he’s doing, I don’t need to have another beer, I don’t even need to pretend like there’s going to be a second time and “totally put his number in my phone,” and I definitely don’t need to cuddle. My heart, my brain, my stomach and my feet scream that time’s up, and the only place in the world I want to be is back at home- alone. Tell me it isn’t just me.

A little background that might paint this situation some: I’ve never been in a relationship [cue unsurprised eye roll]. That said, I consider myself a romantic in the right situation and have dated before and liked many a man past the blow and go stage of things. However, dates for me don’t start with “Sup, you out?” texted via Grindr and don’t proceed immediately to the knee pad stage of things. I go on proper dates when appropriate and typically don’t put out right away (TYPICALLY!). When I meet a guy for sex though, that cutesy shit goes right out the window along with my desire to hang out. A hook up for me is a carnal act that ends when it’s over: sounds simple, right? It’s not only that “I don’t care to hear about their day”, I really just want to have sex and get out. I’m not in the least ashamed of what I’m doing- though according to most when I regale my dirty stories I should be- and I’m not nervous or anxious to meet new people in the least, I just don’t need to and don’t want to learn much more than their latest STD check up and confirm their penchant for using condoms. So, I’m wondering: is that wrong? Is this weird, or do you guys always have that feeling post “fight” that “flight” is the way to go?

Let me tell you more about this “feeling” I’m referring to. It’s actually pretty overwhelming. Almost the second I release and feel all my energy drain out of me, I can actually feel a bolt through my entire body that tells me “times up” and my mind instantly- without fail- goes to wondering where I threw my socks while he was grabbing my ass and pulling off my shirt. Not only do I have an internal clock ringin’ the alarm harder than Beyoncé, but I suddenly feel this almost repulsion of intimacy. I don’t want to be wrangled in for a bear hug, I don’t want to hear about how it’s cute we’re wearing the same jeans and I definitely don’t want to talk about my day: well, at least we’ve established I’m a top (kidding!). No, but seriously, I just want out and anything or anyone that gets in my way is collateral damage and better have the centre of gravity of a line backer or else they’re gettin’ knocked on their ass.

As I type this, I’m realizing why so many men I see on the street post coitus (and I’m talking YEARS later) might have a look of disdain seemingly reserved just for me. The sex was great, but I went Casper on them and disappeared without another word and maybe JUST maybe guys don’t like that? In all honesty, I thought most guys felt the way I did after sex and in fact I assumed I was just being a polite guest taking care of myself and getting out of their hair so they can go about their day or meet up with their husband. But, considering the amount of: “You’re an asshole” comments I’ve had from anonymous Scruff profiles over the past years- the chances are that my “polite” ways aren’t exactly as simple sweet as I previously believed. Do guys really feel that differently than I do once the deed is done? Is there even an industry standard?

I realize it may sound ridiculous that a (very) sexually active gay male after a decade of sex still doesn’t quite have the art of exiting down to a science but to be honest- I don’t know that I care. I listen to my body and my brain pretty closely (when 8 double vodka sodas aren’t playing their tricks on me) and when it tells me that I want to bounce and get directly to a 7-11 to buy the biggest Slurpee I can find and get home to veg to whatever HBO put out that night- I pay attention. Does that make me a bad person or just basal and more connected to the neanderthal in me than most? Prehistoric man had to spread that seed and get back to the hunt, and while my seed ends up wrapped in latex at the top of a garbage basket and my hunting is at its most adventurous when I order multigrain at the Subway on my way home, I see some similarity and I don’t mind it. I feel my method is sex at its purest and there’s no need to muss it up with post “O-face” chat and bonding. I was in you: we’ve bonded plenty. There’s nothing wrong with you or what we did, I just don’t need to be here anymore!

So, I suppose more than just to rant, I wanted to get the gay perspective on this. Admitting this concept of sex n’ split will be VERY foreign to all you boyfriend and long-time lovers out there, there was once a time when you were single so try to mentally regress back to that slutty time. And, to all you single ladies: am I unique in this one? Do you countdown the moments till sex is over so you can really “get to know nameless joe” beside you? Call me a dick, call me a whore, just let me know if I’m alone and how you feel after the fireworks end.

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