So, where to even begin. I went to a nightclub last night. Now, I'm 19, so I'm legally not allowed there.
Why was I at a nightclub at all? It seems like it's not my scene. Well, for the last 72 hours I've been scatterbrained. So much going on. I'm so overwhelmed. With the holidays, a big move coming up, and a lot of arrangements to make; I've been thrown off the edge. It's winter break, my sleep schedule has me falling asleep as the sun rises. I re-read a book of mine. You could say it's a romance/drama. It got me feeling lovesick and lonely. The next night, I was in a 16 hour long Discord call with my friend. I enjoyed his presence because I didn't want to be alone with all these stressful events coming up. I was screen-sharing, mostly just memes and other shit I found. I decided to play Amorous for the first time. I shared the experience with my friend, and it was fun. At around 6AM I decided to call it a night.

The game was the last nail in the coffin for my level-headedness. I don't know why, but the game made me realize how lonely I really am and how much time I've wasted. I was over relationships and hookups--until now. My longing returned and staying in my room was killing me. I woke up later in the afternoon and did my usual routine. I played Amorous some for until the clock struck 10PM. I took a break. I had the idea of looking for nightclub in town; I found a few. Just like that, my mind was set. I was coming out of my shell and I was going to push myself outside of my comfort zone in the hopes that I could satiate this sickness.

I asked my friend what I should wear. He suggested something casual. Fair enough, it's fitting for my first time. I have no idea what i'm stepping into, after all. It'd be embarrassing to step into a calm gay bar in revealing clothes. So, I put together a tasteful outfit. At this point, most of my stuff in packed up in boxes and bags for the move, so I was limited in my choices. But it all worked out. I picked my mint-green boxer-briefs, olive green skinny jeans, my favorite pair of boots, a long and slim purple t-shirt, my usual baseball cap, and a thin flannel overshirt. Perfectly casual, if not a little gay, which is the point.

I was ready to go. I was excited. This was the *real* nightlife. Lots of people, loud music, alcohol flowing through the patron's bloodstream. A deadly combo--I love the idea of it. I made my way to A club that will remain unnamed. It's hard to find unless you're looking for it. I was actually trying to get to The Mix, but got lost (I don't ride through downtown that often). Either way, I was satisfied. I could hear the loud music from upstairs. It wasn't something you would dance to. It was slow. Maybe it was a one-time thing? I cautiously walk up the stairs, wondering if there's a bouncer anywhere. I didn't see a sign that stated the age restriction, so I was in luck. Then, a guy in his late twenties/early thirties walks out of the entrance. He sees me and says "you shouldn't walk in here looking that scared." Did I look scared? I shouldn't be, I was there with intent. I was just trying to avoid making a bad entrance. Well, looks like I already did. I greet him and we talk some more. I told him that I was looking for The Mix, but he gave me directions. He seemed puzzled by me. I'm an awkward person for sure, but was my speech really that confusing? I was very shy and I was avoiding saying something stupid, so I spoke with caution and reservation. Note: Don't do that next time.

He lead me back inside after I admitted that I didn't care which nightclub I was at. As you may know, I ride a DR250. My only transportation. So I needed to set down my stuff somewhere. The man I met said he'd take care of it. I handed him my helmet and jacket and he gave them to the bartender to stow away. I felt extremely out of place. I figured it would be busier, but I was wrong. There were 4-6 people sitting at the bar counter, all the tables were empty. No one was playing pool. I hoped that everyone migrated to the dance floor. I told the man, let's call him L, that I was going to the other room (i figured it would be rude to just walk away). I walk into the dance room and I am greeted by more slow music, but at an ear-damaging volume. Inside, there was a clearly marked spot for dancing, with polished wood floors and a family of disco balls hanging overhead. There were four guys on the other side of the room, standing along the counter. There was one guy behind a laptop controlling the music, a group of women next to the door I came in from, and one man on the dance floor singing karaoke.

The sight was sort-of a let down. This wasn't like my fantasy at all. I sat on the nearest stool. I didn't want to draw attention to myself. I idly watched as guys took turns singing, loudly, along to thee music. I frequently adjusted my pose. I wanted to look comfortable, not tense and closed up. Despite the karaoke, I felt almost at home in the dance room. I only dance, alone to my music, but I like the energetic feel of a room like this. Even if there weren't too many people there. I glanced around the room, seeing if any of the guys were looking at me. They weren't. The girls would look at me, though. I would find out later why those two groups were singing and dancing drunk on a Sunday night. The guys were there because a friend of theirs died and the girl were there because they wanted to show their 19 year-old, pregnant GF that she could still have fun. So, no one was there looking to shack up or be promiscuous. My taste in men is weird. When I'm horny, I'll melt for any guy who's fit and makes advances on me with confidence and purpose. Even if I'm not turned on by them as-is. With women, I can be turned on my the sight of them alone. None of the guys caught me eye, and I figured that the women came to a gay club so they wouldn't be cruised. I continued to sit, even when more exciting music came on and more people started dancing. I was scared to embarrass myself in the spotlight. I could get down I wanted to, but I'd need a good friend and some alcohol first.

One of the girls (We'll call her T) approached me, she was a little drunk and, thus, talkative. She asked where I was from and if I was LGBT. She told me why her friends and her were there. It was a nice gesture. Girls are always the first ones to approach me at a social setting when I'm sitting alone , so It's nothing new. They usually just want to see me have fun. I usually never let loose, but I'll perk up and talk for a while.
My ears were ringing from the volume of the speakers and nothing was happening, so I decided to leave the room and check out the rest of the club. I paced the walls, not looking at anything in particular. It was so empty and I felt that I was so misplaced. T called me over to the bar counter and asked if I was drinking age. I told the truth: "No, i'm not."
The bartender wasn't surprised, but picked that moment to inform me that I couldn't be here. I kindly said that I was unaware and that I'd leave; I didn't want to cause any trouble. T asked what I was doing for the New Year, and I said nothing exciting. She wanted to give me her number so she could call me and invite me to a new years party. I gladly accepted the offer, I liked the idea. She picked up her drink and we walked back to the dance room. She still hadn't given me her number and I had to go. The bartender handed me my gear and I assured him I would leave soon. T told him that she just had to get me her number.

We crossed the sound barrier back into the dance room. She got distracted momentarily and walked over to her friends before coming back just in time to swap digits. The club owner, a skinny, short, and old man ushered me out *kindly*. I was apologizing on the way back down, saying that I didn't want to cause trouble and he assured me that he thinks the drinking age should be 18, but that if the liquor people showed up and carded me, he could get fired. That really made me feel bad. That was way too risky. The girl walked down with me and protested, which I thought was unnecessary, but it was nice to see someone stick up for me. Her friend was 19, too, so she could've easily been in trouble as well. We finished trading numbers and she went back inside, saying that she would text me on new year's eve.

At last, I was exactly where I thought I would be: booted out of the club with no one by my side. I was there for 20 minutes, which was enough for my thirst. I'mm sure the club was busier on Friday and Saturday nights and special occasions. But I wasn't getting any of it until i'm 21. I noticed L standing on the sidewalk looking at me. I told him what happened. We chatted some more and eventually moved to his car because it was pretty cold. He clearly took interest in me. He was very charming and had a way with words. I was trying to tell him why I was here tonight, and I ended up talking a lot. That feeling was still in me. The heartache, the lovesickness, and anxiety. So I would pause and try to figure out how to competently make my case. He held my hand and told me to say what I felt. This was new. No one's ever talked to me and looked at me like this. Sure *plenty* of guys are attracted to me and practically drool when they see my ass and cock, but none of them could sooth me like L did. I trusted him, even though we'd just met. I continued speaking about my interest in mechanics, which he found super attractive, thankfully! He began caressing my face and I stopped talking. He stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers like I was a delicate glass cup.
He stopped and we held hands again. I continued talking. Eventually he kissed my cheek. He was dying to do more to me, he made that very clear. But he also felt embarrassed about his advances. Like it wasn't in his control. I reassured him that he was very welcome to do it again--so he did.
It was a little odd. I didn't know if I wanted to keep going or not. I had this internal force telling me to go all-out, while I have another saying "pull out and go home." The rest of the night was a battle between them that ultimately left me in an indecisive state.
I talked more about my background. He seemed genuinely interested. He rested his hand on my thigh. I was pleased with this move. He began stroking my inner thigh and I stopped in my tracks, short of breath. If he was trying to turn me on, he succeeded. I let him continue his sexual onslaught, to my pleasure.
He reached a hand down my back and gave my ass a squeeze. He then leaned in for another kiss. I was in a trace. My fingers were tingling, my heart was racing, my breath was heavy, like there wasn't enough air left in the world. And I was, of course, hard. I closed my eyes and left myself melt withing his grasp.

He stopped, likely to make sure i was okay with it. We talked more after that, eventually he had to go inside to pay his tab and grab me a water. All that talking and moaning had made my mouth dry. He was in there for what felt like several minutes. I left the car and stood in silence outside the club. The karaoke machine had stopped. There was a rat across the street running back and forth silently between his hiding spot and a paper bag with leftover food inside. L came out with water and handed me one. We talked outside some more and decided that he could follow me home. While I was riding home, I was deciding whether or not to accept his offer of going out to eat after I changed. I lost my appetite a day or two ago, I was only eating when I had to because nothing looked, smelled, or tasted good, so I wasn't hungry for anything. I wanted this night to continue, even though I wasn't sure if I was going to fuck him or not. I told myself that I if I stay home, I will regret it. I pushed myself further into the danger zone and opted to go with him to Denny's.
When we got there, I got an uneasy feeling. The sexual buzz was wearing off and my shy, not-horny self was taking over. And he could tell. I didn't eat much at all, and I felt sick. Not only was my lovesickness keeping me up, reducing my appetite, and making me seek out a mate, but it was stopping me from calming down enough to actually communicate smoothly. He got up to pay the bill. I sat at our booth and cried a little. How did I fuck this up? How could I fuck this up? We went back to the car and drove across the road to an empty parking lot in front of an LA Fitness. I tried to tell him what I was feeling, but couldn't. I physically couldn't tell him that, though his touch was magnificent, I wasn't visually attracted to him. I found out more about him at our breakfast in Denny's, and it was turning me more and more off. I saw the normal side of him, not the sexual side.
I cried a little and calmed back down and casually talked about my ex's, something we could both relate to. He drove me home, I said I'd call him after I got some sleep and cleared my head, and returned to my room.

I wanted to write this so I could organize my thoughts and analyze what happened, otherwise it's just noise. I haven't slept yet and the sun's about to rise, I might just stay up and shower.
I should have declined his offer to eat out. I should have left tonight on a great note. Instead, I pushed myself to a point I was not ready for. I will go out again eventually and it will be a better time, for sure, but right now. . . I don't know. I don't know what to say or feel. I just hope I can eat and sleep normally again. I don't want to be alone anymore but I don't think I want him. I think i'm just desperate.