My first serious relationship began when I was 19, which was lucky because I was determined to be in a proper relationship before I turned 20.
Like all the great gay romances, it started on Grindr. Manny (whose name has been changed to protect his identity), at 25, was a few years older than me.
The First Date
We spent the first few weeks talking excitedly about our anticipated first date. We decided to meet in Nottingham without a real plan—we would just wing it.
Honestly, it was a great first date. The type of date you don’t want to end. In fact, we kept extending it because we were having such a great time.
That date led to the relationship I so desperately wanted. A relationship that in the beginning was so sweet (if somewhat juvenile, looking back).
The Missing Element
Three months in and there was still something missing: sex!
It wasn’t for lack of trying either. During those three months, I tried to instigate sex many times: suggesting we shower together, letting my hands wander when we kissed, and at one point, I outright asked for a blowjob.
Nothing happened. There was always some reason or other standing in our way.
I never pressured him. I respected him too much, and coercive consent isn’t consent. I didn’t want to make him do anything he didn’t want to do.
The Anticipated Day
Valentine’s Day was approaching, and it was the first time I wasn’t single on the very day meant to celebrate love!
I had told Manny that I wanted to do something special, and he told me he had it all planned out…
When February 14th finally came around, I was giddy with anticipation! The plan was for me to go straight to his flat at the very top of Lincoln.
I got on the packed train, holding a bunch of flowers, dressed in my new blazer, an overnight bag slung over my shoulder.
I had to fight for a spot on that commuter train and it wasn’t a comfortable journey. But it didn’t matter; Manny had promised me a special night, and I couldn’t wait!
An Unexpected Wait
I arrived at his flat at the agreed time, 6:30. As typical for a February evening, it was pitch dark, freezing cold, and damp. I rang the buzzer nervously, only there was no answer. I waited a moment and buzzed again… silence. A little confused, I called his mobile but got his voicemail.
“Heyyyyyyy, I’ve just got here. Where are you?”
I was still excited. He probably got stuck in traffic or delayed at work without access to his phone, I followed up with a quick text to see where he was.
After 10 minutes, I called again. By now, I was getting cold. I finally got a message back:
“I’m about 15 minutes away, sorry.”
I was a little annoyed but relieved I hadn’t been stood up.
Then I noticed something odd: movement at his bedroom window, the light flashed on then off.
For a moment, I suspected the worst: he had someone else there!
My warm, giddy excitement turned into cold, damp suspicion. I sat on the doorstep and made a few more calls, followed by frantic texts, all went unanswered.
The Awkward Arrival
Suddenly I fell backwards, the door had been yanked open from behind me.
I looked up to see Manny’s roommate and his girlfriend. I thought no one was home. Why hadn’t they let me in earlier?! I had been sitting outside in the dark, on a drizzly night for close to an hour - I was annoyed, and for the first time I felt how icy cold I really was. They looked at me and said casually “Manny will be here soon”.
Let into the building I began to walk up the stairs. Now the relief from the cold was setting in, I realised the movement I saw in the window was probably his roommate, my suspicions began to melt away - replaced with shame and guilt that I would think something like that. I was relieved I could get warm and dry before Manny got home.
As I turned the corner I was shocked to find Manny sitting on the top step - in a white shirt, slightly open, holding a bunch of red roses.
My heart stopped, a little confused, what was happening? He smiled warmly at me, said hello, took my hand, and led me into the living room. It had been transformed with rose petals, candles, and streamers. This was the most romantic gesture I had ever seen, and it was all for me.
The Romantic Evening
We settled on the sofa and enjoyed a couple of glasses of wine, soft music played in the background. I was elated, I felt like I had walked into my very own rom-com.
As the candles burned and time drifted away, we chatted effortlessly about everything and nothing. The night went on, and there was a palpable chemistry in the air. I thought, “Tonight is the night.”
Manny looked at me and said, “I’m going to get into something more comfortable.” Instantly, my heart quickened, blood raced, and my mouth went dry. Tonight is the night!
He left the room, but I didn’t follow. He didn’t look back, so I assumed I was supposed to stay put until he returned.
The Misunderstanding
To show we were on the same page, I stripped down to nothing but my bow tie. I lay on the sofa and used a cushion to cover my lengthening erection.
This is it; it was finally going to happen.
I could hear Manny walking down the hall. The door slowly opened, and there he stood. In a thick pair of joggers and an old hoodie. He really had changed into something more comfortable.
I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Manny’s eyes grew wide, he didn’t know where to look!
Obviously, I had read the situation horribly wrong, but maybe this could work in my favor. I looked cute; it was a playful move, and we’d both had a drink or two.
He sat next to me but couldn’t look directly at me (we hadn’t seen each other naked before, so I felt very exposed). We talked awkwardly for a few minutes. Flushing, I was still trying to seduce my boyfriend.
Then he said, “Can you put your clothes back on?”
I apologised profusely for the misunderstanding. I never meant to pressure him; I just thought we were ready for this step. I was obviously wrong. After that, the night was over, we went to bed and lay back to back.
There wasn’t much to say, and the space between us had been filled with my shame.
The Painful Truth
Spoiler Alert: I later found out that the reason we didn’t have sex that night was simple: Manny didn’t like me like that. He never found me sexually attractive. At least, that’s what he told me later in our relationship.
This was just the start of 6 years dating Manny the narcissist, and like all good narcissists he was skilled in deceit, manipulation, and a need to be admired.
It’s easy to look back and see the signs I missed now, and it helps that I’m in a much healthier emotional place now. So now I can share these stories without shame or self-consciousness.
Looking Back
I wish this was the worst thing that happened to me, but when you get chance to read more ‘Diaries of the Narcissist’s Boyfriend,’ you’ll see it really is just the beginning…