Gabriel Bradshaw
Bio
I've been dating for twenty years, and I have some insane stories to share. Join me on my quest of love: romantic love and the love of labels. The dating world is savage, but I won't give up until I get what I want.
Stories (26)
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The Age of Innocence. Content Warning.
When I was twenty-four, I had quite an interesting fall and winter. I'd spent the last eight months harboring an intense crush on one of my coworkers; he'd protested that he was straight, but -- thankfully -- didn't let my crush on him ruin our friendship. Cody was a sweet, nerdy kid with braces and a speech impediment; when we'd first met, he'd had a girlfriend. They didn't last the remainder of their senior year, though. I heard rumors that she cheated on him often in the parking lot behind H & H Bakery -- just a few blocks away. I spent the summer before he left for the UP to attend Lake Superior State University trying to show him how much I cared about him and was going to be devastated when he left; we fought a lot that summer. At first, he was jealous that I'd become good friends with the new girl at work -- Kristin. He'd accuse me of replacing him with her, which was just insane. Yes, I did like Kristin -- Bambi, as I'd nicknamed her -- but she was my friend; Cody was so much more than that, at least in my eyes. We started to fight more and more; our friendship seemed to turn into a game of who could hurt the other more. At one point, Cody asked me to go to Cedar Point with him -- I'd never been -- but when I hesitated to confirm the date, he shrugged it off and made plans with his other -- straight -- friends. In the end, we left things on a good foot. His last night in town, he came in to see me at work to say his goodbyes. We made tacos, and spent the night laughing; it finally felt like we'd gotten back to being us. When we said goodbye in the parking lot, I clung to him, telling him I loved him as I tried not to cry; he didn't say it back. I was almost brought to tears when he showed up in the lobby at work the weekend of my birthday -- in October; we didn't get to see each other much because he'd brought his friend/roommate and they had more places to go, but the thought that he had not only remembered my birthday, but also that he had cared enough to surprise me meant the world to me. Unfortunately, we saw each other once after that -- when he was home on Christmas break -- before we lost touch. He's now a member of the Navy and engaged; I've seen him a few times when he was home visiting his parents, but it wasn't the same. It was crazy how obsessed with him I was during that period; I thought I'd never find anyone better, that if I just kept showing him that I loved him, he'd choose me.
By Gabriel Bradshaw 2 days ago in Humans
Losing My Virginity. Content Warning.
When I was younger, I wanted my first sexual experience to be for love, not simply a buildup of teenaged hormones. Unfortunately, my stepdad was incredibly homophobic, going so far as to tell my mother when he caught me watching the musical film Chicago at age twelve that if I came home with a boyfriend, he was going to kick me out. When my mother passed it on it didn't even occur to me to be upset with her for not only telling me about it, but for not punching him in the face like he deserved. Growing up knowing that the way I was was wrong, I learned to deny it as much as humanly possible; I didn't feel that I could trust anyone with my deepest, darkest secret. In high school, there was a lot of speculation about my sexuality - I was the guy who hung out almost exclusively with girls and loved musical theater and Madonna - but I didn't feel that I could be open and honest about my sexuality even then, so instead, I fervently denied it. I kept all of my gay crushes hidden away, afraid to even act on them lest my stepdad find out and kick me to the curb.
By Gabriel Bradshaw 9 days ago in Filthy
The Emancipation Sex-clamation. Content Warning.
For the first few months after I moved out on my own my sex life improved immensely. For the first time ever not only could I host, but I didn't have to schlep the guy out to the old outbuilding at my grandma's house that I lovingly referred to as the Blair Witch house. At one point it was a barn or something - it was a farm when my grandma was growing up - but by the time I was born it was just a dilapidated building filled with old clothes and odds and ends. By the time I lived there as an adult, the roof had completely collapsed and all that was left were the brick walls. I used to sneak out there to smoke, knowing my grandmother wouldn't be able to catch me.
By Gabriel Bradshaw 16 days ago in Filthy
Hari Cary. Content Warning.
The gay community is known for being obsessed with youth, sex, and beauty. It's often joked that once a gay guy turns thirty, he's considered middle aged, that he ceases to exist. When I turned thirty, my already lackluster love life became pretty much extinct. It's true that I have never been considered extremely attractive: I don't work out, I don't prance around in crop tops and booty shorts, there is nothing about my physical appearance that makes me stand out from the hundreds of other - and certainly hotter - guys in the crowd. I'd consider my looks average at best; sure, I get compliments on my white teeth and my big eyes, but being called "cute" is nowhere near as satisfying as being called "sexy" or "hot."
By Gabriel Bradshaw 23 days ago in Filthy
All in the Family. Content Warning.
Back in my twenties, I had a very bad habit of developing crushes on my coworkers. I know they say not to shit where you eat but considering that my primary method of socialization is work, there weren't many other opportunities for me to meet people. Of course, I was on Grindr, but it was so much easier to grow emotionally attached to guys that I actually knew in person, who knew me and liked me in spite of my quirks and eccentricies.
By Gabriel Bradshaw 30 days ago in Filthy
The Boy Who Cried Love. Content Warning.
After Terrence ghosted me, it took me awhile to move on. I was well aware that we hadn't been dating, but after three months of 'hanging out' and being intimate, it seemed like we were at the very least, on the road to dating. I couldn't understand how he could just cut me out of his life so callously, how he could live with himself knowing the pain and distress that he was causing me. It wasn't until the following spring that I even started to seriously talk to guys again.
By Gabriel Bradshaw about a month ago in Humans
Fingering It Out. Content Warning.
It's not uncommon to develop feelings for someone after sleeping with them. I'm usually pretty good at remaining detached after sex, but after Zane and I slept together - after our first official date - I couldn't help but admit that while I wasn't in love with him, I was warming up to the idea of having him in my life. There weren't any guarantees that it would progress to a relationship, but I felt more comfortable with him - sexually - than I did with most guys, which I took as a good sign.
By Gabriel Bradshaw about a month ago in Humans
Skate Date. Content Warning.
The morning of my first official date with Zane I woke up to bad omens. As soon as my alarm went off, I went to rub the sleep from my eyes and got jolted awake as something inside my eye scratched across my cornea. I felt my eye water profusely, already knowing that it would be bloodshot. I tried flushing it with water, and while it helped ease the discomfort, it did not remove the foreign object; occasionally I still felt it scratching around in there as I got ready. This is not an uncommon experience for me, as I have what one optometrist at Walmart described as a 'lazy blink.' My eyelids don't meet when I blink or close my eyes - unless I squeeze them tightly shut, so it's not uncommon for cat hair and dander to get in my eyes while I sleep.
By Gabriel Bradshaw 2 months ago in Humans
Rule of Tongue. Content Warning.
It is generally considered bad form to have any sort of sexual relations with someone if you have any hopes of having an actual relationship with them. I generally follow this rule, after all, why would someone 'cuff' you if they know they can get the goods for free, with zero commitment and absolutely obligation? Still, sometimes things happen and rules get broken.
By Gabriel Bradshaw 2 months ago in Filthy
Cell Block(ed) Tango. Content Warning.
About a month after Max and I called it quits I started to feel that familiar itch; to find someone to give me the things I need - time, attention, cuddles. Sure, I had never fully logged off of Grindr or the other apps, but I've just been killing time looking for the more seductive instant gratification. Why be sad and lonely when you can half-assed scroll through dating sites and hookup apps? And why bother worrying about feelings when you can just live more freely unattached? When I'm in one of these slumps I love to find a hot guy - more than likely not a top choice, but higher on the scale than most - to talk and flirt with. I get the rush of adrenaline when things heat up and the flood of dopamine after it's done; and as an added bonus I don't have to worry about boyfriend stuff. Even if I didn't make it abundantly clear that I'm only looking for something casual - as casual as casual can be, preferably - my cold demeanor and air of peculiarity certainly dispel anyone from the notion of getting to know me better.
By Gabriel Bradshaw 2 months ago in Filthy
To Feet or Not to Feet. Content Warning.
There are a wide variety of kinks out there, from tickling and humiliation to scat and water sports; I try to be open-minded and not judge most of the time, but one that particularly makes me uncomfortable is a foot fetish. I recently watched the television adaption of Fellow Travelers; as hot as I find Jonathan Bailey to be, the scene where he was sucking on Matt Bomer's toes irked me. I'd sooner die than have anyone's toes in my mouth; I've been skeeved out by feet for as long as I can remember, possibly because in the seventh grade, we were having a discussion in science class and someone said that no matter how much you wash your feet, they inherently carry bacteria, yeast, and fungi. A study from the BBC found that people who washed their feet twice daily had an estimated 8,800 bacteria living in every square centimeter of their skin; that is far too many bacteria for me to even be willing to consider making contact with my mouth or hands. I wouldn't say that I am a full-fledged germaphobe, after all, I live with a clowder of cats; I allow them to sleep in my bed and on my pillows, I give them kisses and hold them in my lap. I convince myself that as long as I'm not making direct mouth-to-mouth contact with my cats - absolutely no sharing of food - then I'm avoiding the most disgusting, devious germs.
By Gabriel Bradshaw 2 months ago in Filthy
Hell Hath No Furry. Content Warning.
Have you ever met someone out in the real world who was weird, but then the more you encounter them the more open they get? I've had an experience with that over the past seven months that still leaves me baffled and shaking my head. I'm sure it's far from over, but even so, it still makes an interesting story to tell.
By Gabriel Bradshaw 3 months ago in Filthy
