I think I’ve shared how different it was with Eric. I had a lot of fun with him–maybe because he did everything “right” (like take me to concerts and tell me over and over how much fun he has with me) or maybe it was just him, but either way, it was simply amazing to date someone that I actually liked.

I can think of thousands of ways to tell someone I have herpes. I commit and re-commit to about 3 different methods a week. I think I am probably wasting my time with that, though, and should play it by ear, since every guy and every relationship is different. With Eric I didn’t feel pressure or expectations for sex right away, but I could tell that we wanted each other and that the pressure or expectations could start at any second. I had my excused ready like guns in the holsters. I was more than ready to fire off the trust bullet, maybe followed by a round of commitment. I figured soon we’d decide to be a couple, and then I wouldn’t have much to stand on and would have to tell him, but until then I was ready.

I knew I didn’t want to ruin my birthday by getting dumped for the first time in 10 years by one of the first guys I was crazy about in a long time. So I was careful to hold off until then. We had a great birthday party, even though it could have ended badly. I got drunk and encouraged him to spend the night. I’m still not sure if anything would have happened if I had put the moves on him or not fallen asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. Luckily nothing did happen, and no moves were put on anyone the next morning–just cuddling and enjoying one another’s company. Which made me even more crazy about Eric.

Then Tuesday was my family birthday party at my aunt’s. I somewhat impulsively asked him to be my boyfriend the night before. Actually, I asked if I could introduce him to my family as my boyfriend. He was all for it, of course. I freaked out a little, because I had tentatively decided to tell him about herpes before we made it official, but oh well. I also worried about having sex with him, now that we had commitment, but I knew it wouldn’t be convenient to have sex Tuesday night anyway, so I didn’t worry too much.

I find it very difficult to keep a secret like that. There are a few other things that I don’t tell anyone because I am ashamed, but those secrets are more about things I’ve done, isolated incidents, and have nothing to do with my  or anyone’s else’s life nowadays. But I’m not ashamed about herpes, and it is a very contemporary issue. I scream the confession in my head when I’m with guys. It drives me nuts. That’s why I don’t think Bailee’s advice would work–I couldn’t date someone for months before spilling the beans. But I digress.

I walked him to his car late Tuesday night as he was leaving. We talked a little, and when we both were facing the moon (instead of one another’s eyes) I took advantage of the nonthreatening position and the privacy in our isolation and told him. His reaction was hard to gauge. He’s pretty conservative, but he should also by quite knowledgeable due to his work history.

I fretted about it all week. Especially when he started seeming distant and unaffectionate in his text messages. For him, at least–I don’t think anyone else would have thought so. But I was convinced our time spent together Friday night would involve him dumping me. And sure enough, he did. I cried. Then I went on vacation for 6.5 days, and wasn’t that sad. But once I was back and had time alone with my thoughts, I cried a little more.

I worry that I won’t find someone I’m crazy about ever again. I worry that I should have just put up with Mike and his immaturity and our lack of strong feelings for each other.

I can kind of understand what Eric must have thought about herpes. His breakup speech sounded pretty drama queen-esque, like I might of well have AIDS or something awful. But before I had it, I held similar misconceptions.
I wish I could just explain how low the chances of transmission are, especially compared to sex with people that don’t get tested or have casual sex. I wish I could explain what it was like to have herpes (Not A Big Deal). Unfortunately, I don’t believe a long, drawn out speech or a 17-page letter about it is a good idea, either. I think people will just have to come about that information of their own volition, since it requires an open mind and desire to learn about it.

That’s why dating older men is appealing to me now. Not old like my dad’s age, but maybe 5-10 years older than I am. With more life experience comes a greater chance to have encountered someone that has herpes, maybe even someone they’ve dated or had sex with. And just maybe–hopefully–someone that already knowingly has herpes.

Ok, I’m off to Denny’s for the Early Bird Dinner to pick up some dudes. Just kidding.

P.s. Matisyahu is the name of a band (guy?) but I didn’t realize it was Matisyahu and not Modest Yahoo until a local radio dj tweeted about the concert he was performing in.

I don’t get cold sores. Never have. But I do have genital herpes. It’s the same deal, except we can wear condoms for even more protection, and symptoms aren’t broadcasted to the world by showing up on the face.

I have been going out with Eric for a few weeks now. I’m really enjoying it, too. Rather than tolerating the hurdle that is the non-sex part of dating for the prize at the end of the road (sex), I actually like hanging out with him. For our second date he took me to the Buzz Under the Stars concert, and our first kiss was while Rivers Cuomo was only 100 feet away from us, crooning, “…and it makes me feel so fine I can’t control my brain…” He texts me every day. He always wants to hear about my day. Before our dates he tells me how much he’s looking forward to it, during our time together he raves about what a good time he’s having with me, and afterward it’s, “Thanks for coming to the concert with me.” “Thanks for inviting me over, Rachel.” “Thanks for hanging out with me.”

On one hand, he’s so great. The last time a guy took me to a concert on a date, I had his baby, and it’s quite rare that someone is not only crazy about me, but is comfortable sharing that information with me. On the other hand, anybody could do that. Mike could have taken me to concerts, making it all the more exciting to date and kiss me. Mike could have added a texting plan to his phone and talked to me more often. But he (and no one else) didn’t. Whenever I have doubts I just keep in mind that the grass is always greener on the other side. Sure, I have seen hotter guys or whatever, but dating Eric has felt much more right than all of the other guys I can remember dating ever, so since I am happy, I am certainly going to enjoy it, and stick around with the occasional doubt tickles the back of my brain.

My birthday is coming up. Usually I like to get laid on my birthday, because hello, it’s my birthday, but I think this time around will be different. I have not yet told Eric about herpes. I am really not sure how to predict how he will react. I mentioned this to Jessica, who has known Eric for awhile, but she is confident he’ll be cool about it. I hope she’s right.

So far sex hasn’t been an issue. Usually by now the dude would try to have sex with me and I’d have to give him some bullshit about not being ready, waiting ’til we know each other better, blah blah blah. Of course, this would usually be lubricated with liquor, which neither Eric nor I (nor Bethie, for that matter) have touched at least since Eric and I started dating. Last time we hung out, we could have had sex so easily. We started making out in my living room once the movie was over, and I said something about being turned on. Somehow we had the “third-time-we’ve-had-sex talk” before the first time, in which I learned the various locations he desired to copulate, including going down on a girl while she’s driving (HOTTT). But I didn’t pick up on any intention to make those things happen right then. Nor did we discuss why we were waiting, or for how long.

I’m really horny, and really anxious to commit to him, tell him I have herpes, and fuck him. Because I like him and want to refer to him as “boyfriend” rather than “Eric, that guy I’m dating, we went to the Weezer concert, etc,” I hate keeping secrets, and am horny, respectively. I even know how I want to tell him my “secret” (see first 2 paragraphs). I was thinking I could do it in that order, too, because if he already commits to me, then isn’t cool with HSV, then he has to Break Up with me. If I just tell him about HSV first, then he might do the fade out and it’ll be easier to bail. Bethie believes this is not right, because it’s something he should know before he makes a commitment to me. Either way, if I do anything soon, it may ruin my birthday.

If I commit to him soon, by Saturday (my birthday party), I will have no more excuses to not have sex with him, other than HSV. And I don’t want to have that conversation, or that rejection, when it’s a happy fun birthday time. I guess I’ll just wait ’til after my party and after my birthday proper.

To help me wait to have sex with Eric, I had to bring in some help Sunday night. James. James was my crush sophomore and junior year of high school. We would flirt hard core, and a lot of people even believed we were dating, but he always had a girlfriend. We were reunited recently, and of course he had a girlfriend, but then we really started flirting when he told me he was single (yeah right). Long story short, he was a bit taken aback by HSV at first, but then came around, and we had sex. The foreplay was great, and it felt really passionate, but as for the actual sex, it could have been much better. I hadn’t even gotten around to suggesting moving out of missionary and into doggie style before he finished. Oh well. I’m really glad I did it, in any case, because I’ve wanted to for a good 9 years now. It might not have been the most exemplary way to begin a relationship (talking about Eric here), but I think it’s a gray area, since Eric and I have not made any sort of commitment to one another. And, it ultimately helps me wait to get physical with Eric, ensuring we don’t rush into it.

I started talking to my neighbor, Travis, again after we saw each other at the pool. We haven’t talked much since the night we met and kissed at Wise Guys a year or so ago. He is a single dad with a son about my son’s age and is super hot (he even does some modeling). He told me he was in an open relationship with his long distance girlfriend and is interested in a friends with benefits. On Tuesday we had a playdate. I figured it was a great opportunity to get hot for each other, steal some kisses, but there wouldn’t be lots of opportunity for sex. I wanted to continue this, and just as he was thinking he couldn’t want me more (and the situation couldn’t be better, with our sons best friends and living so closely) THEN I swoop in with my herpes.

Unfortunately I didn’t count on him asking me that night if I was “clean.” (Side note: I was clean. I had just taken a shower. There was nothing unpleasant to the senses about my genital area. I really hate that term used in that context.) The first idea I had was to lie, and my plan could still be executed, but he saw right through that. Fine. I would tell him. I did, and he took it well. He was understandably concerned that it wasn’t just him that could get it, it was his girlfriend, too; but he did come up with the idea to make out and stuff instead of doing anything that puts him at risk. We’ve talked since then, but haven’t gotten our schedules to match up. I do think that he was sincere about wanting to be intimate with me more.

Thursday night I came really close to having sex with James. James is an old high school crush that I never got to date due to him always having a girlfriend. Nowadays he is reportedly single and works and lives down the street from me (I’m on his way home). We had hung out a few times and talked a lot, but Thursday night I stopped him from going “all the way” due to the possibility that my son or roommate could walk in on us. Really I just wanted him to think about me and want me for awhile, then I’d tell him about herpes via text, not face to face, which I did yesterday. His response was something like “Oh um I don’t know what to say, I really don’t…I have a habit of breaking condoms. Um I don’t know Rach I’ll have to think about it.” That was pretty much what I expected, but by the end of the night I felt quite bitter about it.

Yesterday I ran into Jerod. I had a crush on him back when I knew him as my brother’s friend years ago. More recently he and I messed around a little. He had been living with his fiance in my neighborhood. I didn’t have sex with him, because soon after he propositioned me I was diagnosed with herpes, but never told him why. He’s been single for a few months now, and he told me he wanted to see me that night. I went over and knocked on his door three times, but no answer. He posted on facebook something about getting back from Independence but didn’t tell me anything.

I talked to Nate about a week ago, who seemed up for hanging out with me again, but he kept pretty much ignoring me via text over the last few days.

I went out last night, but didn’t see any guys I felt like talking to. I came home early feeling sad and angry. I even started missing Mike and thinking it may have been a mistake to break up with him. I mean, he did have sex with me. And the herpes was never even an issue for him. I may need to take an alcohol moratorium again. I reeeeaaallly don’t want to be That Girl, the one that gets angry and/or sad when she drinks. I want the old me back, that enjoyed the feeling of getting drunk.

Mike and I made plans for Saturday night via a Wednesday night phone conversation. This is supremely routine, and I followed the protocol by calling him from work on Saturday. He did not answer, so I left him a message with an idea of what to do for our date.

I’d like to back up a bit to explain the Seth side as well. He came over Tuesday night, the day before that Wednesday phone call. I had not felt the need to announce, “Hey Seth, I have a boyfriend!” but had slipped it into conversation. I’d tell him I had a date when he asked me what my plans are for the weekend, or I’d explain in a text that I couldn’t talk, I’m with a guy. More recently we had made our relationship official, and I said the word “boyfriend” a few times to him. Anyway, that Tuesday night visit involved giving one another massages, and lots of hard core flirting (the same kind we’d been doing for weeks via text or discreetly at work). We came really close to making out and fucking, without actually doing so, but he did suck on my nipples and finger me, and I felt his large package over his underwear. He asked me what I was thinking a few times. I remember telling him that it was probably all against “the rules” since I had a boyfriend.

I really wanted to see where it went with Seth, and soon after I decided to break up with Mike not for another man, but because I had no strong feelings for him. I was thinking I’d probably just break up with him after Bethie’s graduation fun the following weekend, since we already had plans to go.

Back to Saturday night. I got home from work, and still no word from Mike. Seth was at work, and knew I had left. I texted him to come take a shower with me, but he fucking flipped the norm and acted like it was strange that I said that, explaining that he was trying to get into a relationship with someone else in particular! I am well aware of that little Jedi mind trick people like to pull and fucking HATE it. I realized I couldn’t argue with him, because that would enhance his mind game and make me look crazy. I took the high road and told him no hard feelings, and have said a bare minimum to him at work since, avoiding eye contact. It pisses me off so much, especially because I suspected some game-playing in the beginning! I have been just kicking myself since then for falling for his stupid tricks. Ugh.

I was really bummed about that, but at least I would get to have sex with my boyfriend later. Right? I kept waiting for him to call as I took my time getting ready. I could have called him again, I suppose, but to be honest I was kind of excited about the prospect of a Saturday night of fun without him. To my chagrin, he never did bother calling that night. I had fun, considering, but was hurt that he would do that to me. Bethie and I discussed this at length–we go out with guys, believing they deserve a fair chance before we dismiss them for not being hot enough, or independent enough, or American enough, or nice enough, etc…and then THEY are the ones that end up screwing US over? We were doing you a FAVOR!

The next day I called him repeatedly (leaving one voicemail) because his phone was off. I was pretty shocked that he would be that disrespectful. It’s one thing to go on a few dates with someone, then don’t bother spelling it out in favor of telephone neglect, but we made a commitment to one another! We were a couple–it said so right there on Facebook! By then I was thinking that even if he had lost his phone or failed to receive my message, he could have tracked down my number and found some way to call me, come by my place, contacted me via Facebook, something. We had plans and he flaked, whether he knew I called or not. I finally got so upset I logged onto Facebook and listed my status as single. Fuck him. I don’t want a boyfriend like that and he doesn’t deserve a chance. Really, I should have known, since that’s the same thing he did last time. Only last time he didn’t call me his girlfriend or anything.

Monday I still hadn’t heard from him, so the nagging thought prancing around in the back of my mind kicked its way into view. What if something terrible has happened? it asked, inspiring a hypothetical sensation of guilt inside me. I pondered it for awhile. I didn’t want to backpedal and be all concerned and sympathetic, but I didn’t want to be a bitch to my hypothetically comatose boyfriend. Finally I arrived at a solution: a text message that said “Now I’m wondering if I should be worried instead of angry, because no one would be that much of a dick, right?” I resisted the urge to take advantage of my knowledge of his lack of text message plan and rack up his bill with incessant texts until he finally got around to calling me. For the time being, anyway. A couple hours later he texted back, apologizing for his selfishness, and explaining that he simply felt antisocial, and could he come over and apologize in person? I begrudgingly agreed.

The formal breakup (formal because I Facebook broke up with him Sunday, and it could be said that he broke up with me by blowing me off Saturday) was, annoyingly, a perfect parallel to our dismal relationship. He showed up with his proverbial tail between his legs, and we shared a brief conversation. “…so…are you finished with me?” he asked, after a feeble, excuse-less explanation. I nodded. No passion, no arguing, no pleading…just “guess it’s over” “yep.” Just like the previous Saturday night, when he could have called me back, but didn’t really care too; and I could have called him again, just didn’t care to.

My vexation about apathy for dudes I date is back. But I do have a theory to share: these guys that we date, that we think we are providing some sort of charity for settling or stooping to their level because they deserve a chance, too–they screw us over for one of two somewhat understandable reasons. Either they pick up on our charitable attitude and feel resentful, or maybe what we saw in the first place wasn’t a lack of sex appeal or class, but the fact that they are going to screw us over. In any case, I have learned a lesson in trying to be open-minded with who I date.

About Seth, I keep thinking about him. I sometimes feel bad that I flirt with him so much, since Mike is my boyfriend now, but I think about Seth all the time. Maybe that says something about how I feel about Mike? Tonight I closed my eyes and pretended it was Seth I was fucking. I fought the urge to text him once I left Mike’s. But I think about breaking up with Mike, and I don’t like that either. Then I’ll never get to hang out with his friends, or him, and what would I tell him? That there’s someone else? That he lives too far away (it’s like 40 minutes if no one gets lost)? That I want a boyfriend that does not talk about farting every time I see him? Those three things are really the only problems. Also he went down on me twice. Mike has given me newfound hope for sex with men in general, but what if it’s just empty hope?

Also, who’s to say that Seth is going to want me once I tell him I have herpes? For all I know, I could break up with Mike and tell him all three reasons, effectively severing all ties with him, then go for it with Seth, and be left with a lonely vagina that Seth finds disgusting and worth discussing with our coworkers. That’d be pretty darn bad.

Alternatively, I suppose I could try things out with Seth on the DL and if all goes well, then break up with Mike. If not, I feel like there’s not much of a chance that Seth will spread it around work, and if he does, it would just be a sacrifice I’d be making for the greater good. Like the first gay person to come out.

But is it wrong to “try things out” when I have a boyfriend? That’s cheating, and Mike really didn’t do anything to deserve that. I’ve barely even gave Mike a chance. But don’t I deserve to be with someone I’m attracted to? And doesn’t it not count if I either don’t actually have sex with Seth (because he doesn’t want my herpes) or break up with Mike before having sex with Mike again so I’m not double dipping?

A part of me says this is all a “moo point”. Why take the risk? We’ve already determined that I like Mike, so I should just love the one I’m with and accept that no matter who my boyfriend is, there is always going to be someone hotter, funnier, smarter, geographically closer, etc…

FYI it’s 3am and I am super tired, in case the above seemed disjointed and unfocused.

If it were any other dude, I would have interpreted that as a booty call. However, Nate knows I have herpes and has not seemed to be interested in my vagina since the disclosure. In addition, our relationship has, since high school, hovered around physicality and coupledom without ever hitting either on the head (we’ve never had sex or been a couple, but come very close).

Again with the irony, he seemed to be ready to get it on. I declined, not being too specific (it wasn’t explicit that he wanted me, and I didn’t want to tell him that I had sex in the bed he was in 7 hours ago). Upon later reflection, I realized that I can increase my sexual freedom–and have increased it–by having male friends that are aware of my condition and are attracted to me. My date with Mike did not invovle any mood-killing herpes discussion, because he already knew. Had I chose to go as far as Nate wanted to, there would be no need to make a point of telling him I have herpes, because I already did. I imagine that, should I want to make a booty call at some point in the future, I have a chance with Toby.

I will now revel in my newfound level of normalcy.

Miraculously, he recently sent me a message saying that he was sorry and maybe we could hang out again. I’m still pretty unclear about what changed and all that, but it doesn’t matter much. We went out last weekend, and pleasantly picked up where we left off. I figured he had been ready to have sex when we dated before, and even more so now. So after our date Saturday night, we were feeling a bit tipsy, and sitting on my couch watching a movie (Stranger than Fiction, in case you were wondering). We spent some of the movie talking, and like our date the night before, I felt we were connecting, and that he was confiding in me. It was a nice feeling, like we were becoming closer. We spend more of the movie making out, and I felt like he was expecting sex. He probably didn’t want to drive home after drinking, and he was probably horny for the same reason.

I found myself waiting for the right time to disclose my pertinent information. I had to tell myself that I’m not going to come across a Good Time. It’s not like he was going to ask me outright, or stop and say, “I’d like to have sex now. Is there anything you need to tell me?” Nor was he likely to tell me that he had HSV himself. So I just had to say it. We weren’t looking into each other’s eyes, but our heads were very close to each other. I swallowed my insecurities and said, “I have herpes, but you probably won’t get it if we wear a condom and I take medication for it.” Something like that. Luckily, he didn’t vomit and hightail it out of there or anything. He told me he wasn’t expecting sex, he wants to take it slow and is in no rush to get physical. He also asked me some questions about HSV that were totally appropriate. I was happy to answer them, and he didn’t seem to change his mind about how he felt about me. While we kissed, his hands even strayed around to some exciting spots. Before he left, he found it difficult to stop kissing me.

I still worry that I won’t hear from him again. But I’m glad I told him. I plan on trying to hang out with both him and Toby this weekend. Soon I will cut one of them loose. I like Mike more than Toby, I think, but Toby will have sex with me so I don’t want to let him go just yet.

The second phase was relief. I was so glad that outbreaks aren’t always like the first one. In fact, the primary outbreak is almost always like 100 times worse than all subsequent outbreaks. Not everyone has a true primary outbreak, however. This is often how herpes goes undetected–it’s usually mistaken for a yeast infection or some other minor condition. Not the case, however, with me. I did have a second outbreak not too long after that, and was delighted at its nonchalance.

Recently I had another date with Toby, one of my okcupid dudes. Since I knew him from the dating site, I knew that had he read my profile, he’d know that I had herpes. However, there was a possibility that he hadn’t read it, and didn’t know. I wanted to confirm that he knew, so we could hurry up and get it on, but I didn’t want to do so untactfully. We went to a movie with my roommate (Shutter Island, good stuff) and she left us alone in the living room after we returned home. I knew he wanted to get physical, and I sure did. I still have a really hard time talking about it, so I was nervous about telling him, but I opted for as casual as possible. We kissed on the couch for a minute, then I turned off the lights. In the safety of the dark, on our way to my bedroom, I just blurted out, “You know I have herpes, right?” “Yeah,” was his eloquent response, and we made our way to the bed.

Now that I have had sex with someone other than Luke, who also had herpes and was on the other dating site I used, I feel as if I have entered into a new phase. The Getting on With my Life phase, maybe. It’s possible to fuck an informed man. I have less fear now.

So long story short, I just had a 4th date with Toby. He’s nice, not too bad to look at, and we have plenty in common. Unfortunately, I don’t feel the way I think I should for someone I’m dating. I feel really medium. Not crazy about him, I don’t dislike him, he’s just…fine. Maybe this “spark,” this elusive “chemistry” everyone talks about comes later? I usually am quiet around new people. I think I get along better with those that feel comfortable bearing the burden of conversation. But if we don’t find much to talk about, does that mean we’re not compatible, or that we’re both quiet but can get along just fine?

Whenever I feel the urge to have a boyfriend, I feel like it’s not very realistic to find someone I’m crazy about. Just find someone at least tolerable, and hey, there’s sex, so I’ll survive. Then I realize that if it’s just sex I’m after, then why bother with the boyfriend crap? This is no longer an option, now that HSV has revoked my sexual freedom. So now the tolerable boyfriend scenario sounds perfect on paper. But is it? Don’t I deserve better? I guess that’s what I’m afraid of. Not finding someone better, I mean. And isn’t that what feeling less than deserving entails?

Even if it’s something I deserve, is it ethical? I wonder how Toby feels about me. Maybe he’s in the same boat. I just wish so much that I could date someone and have sex with someone that I was excited about. Of course, if all the excitement emanated from the fact that he was Mr. Wrong (like my alcoholic exes), then it’s a moo point. It’s like a cow’s opinion–it doesn’t matter.

To consider demonstrating confidence paradoxically deflates my confidence due to nervousness. Do I have confidence? Can I be confident? May I be confident?

Of course I can. This does not mean thinking of myself as better than others, or holding the belief that I am never wrong. Rather, I believe that taking risks is worth it, and if I am wrong, then I can and will survive. However, embracing this concept fully AND risking rejection while emanating confidence is super scary. So I resolve to fake it ’til I make it.