Here's one for the psychoanalysts. Why has a 33-year-old man suddenly decided he can't sleep without a teddy bear? You see, right after Christmas, I had a couple of dates with this guy. Actually, if you want the full story, Hotass and I went to Metro on the Thursday before Christmas. Hotass met this guy. We'll call him Hoover. They had a few dates (maybe two, maybe three). Hotass invited Hoover to come to the New Year's Eve sleepover at the Dynamic Duo's. But just before NYE, Hotass reconciled with his boyfriend, and had to uninvite Hoover.
Hoover sees me on Gay.com on New Year's Eve day, and we chat, and we meet that afternoon. We talk, hang out and seem to hit it off. Since he was already invited, I asked him to join me that night at the Dynamic Duo's for NYE. When I picked Hoover up, he had the cute, adorable, soft, fuzzy bear for me.
It was a sweet gesture. Needless to say, Hoover and I didn't see much of each other after New Year's Eve. We had a whirlwind affair that lasted about 72 hours. I think he might have wanted instant relationship and I'm so not ready for that. And the whole thing was incredibly dysfunctional on so many levels, even in those three days.
But now I have this cute, adorable, soft, fuzzy bear propped up on my bed. And every night since then, I have fallen asleep clutching or at least have my hand resting on this teddy bear, and it really is quite calming. I even kind of have little freak-outs in the middle of the night when I realize I've knocked him out of bed.
Fortunately, I haven't named him something retarded like Mr. Fuzzy or Snuggles. However, I am leaning toward Timothy or William.
When I was a kid, I had quite a collection of stuffed animals. And every night when I went to bed, I positioned them all around me in the bed, careful to rotate the placements nightly so that they didn't get their feelings hurt because I chose one over the other to sleep closest to me.
And the other reason for putting them all around me was so that whenever the monster under the bed reached up to grab me in the middle of the night, it would take one of the stuffed animals first and feast upon their Poly-Fil innards before realizing its mistake. I was considerate of the animals' feelings but not afraid to sacrifice them for my own safety.
I won't even attempt to psychoanalyze this any further. It's gotten a little too fucked up for even me. Besides, Timothy/William is asking me to come to bed.
3 comments:
I see two levels of subconscious dependence involved. The first is a psychological regression to your childhood. Obviously, Timothy/William has reached out to your inner child and returned a comfort that was apparently long-forgotton. The second is a subconscious confirmation of your conscious attraction to hairy men. That is of course, because Timothy/William is a cuddly, furry bear. Who wouldn't want that in their bed? Woof.
On a side note, I think Hoover was probably regifting. Where the fuck would you find an FAO Schwarz teddy bear in Memphis?
I've always wanted a Timothy and William to ask me to come to bed.
But I digress...
Um James ... maybe you liked the guy more than you thought? Maybe you are ready for a relationship? Or maybe its like Dustin said.. you just like a hairy man!
Do you realize how many gay men sleep with or just have teddy bears?
Ah, that sounds a little "incriminating", doesn't it? OK, let's just say I see them when I visit friends, or when we go to parties and dinners given by gay men. And Fritz has a big one that he sleeps with on those nights when I'm in Boston. I don't think it's strange. You've tapped into something that's common to many guys.
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