My life as a homewrecker (long read)

Warning: Long story (I'm a wordy bitch), crude language, and drug use. Written over an interval of days, using a mobile deviceCalling it a homewrecker seems like pushing it, but that's what I've been known to do on occasion. As a person of 27 years, i've struggled with my orientation for almost 95% of my life. Forced myself into "relationships" with women, tell myself that it's just a phase and it will eventually correct itself. I was a tall, lanky, introverted priss who thought himself above everyone else.A total bitch I may be, but having pretended to be straight for so long makes it easy for one to read people, know their wants and needs, and satisfy their desires with accuracy. I have destroyed relationships of straight couples because I was so desperately eager to grab a beard that didn't know she was with pink meat. It's as they say in my hometown: it's easier to grab a tied-down chicken.But at some point, I could no longer resist the song and the schlong, so I made the decision to fuck it and just decide to be happy. I deserve it. I will not have my happiness be contingent by what society thinks is the norm. Everyone is deserving of happiness, and I've tried to conform for so long, so I decided to retire from "straighthood" just last year.I am still discreet though. I got ripped and started exploring hookup apps and know more abouy myself. I go to great lengths to not catch anything and fuck responsibly (rubber plz). I've only begun to look for happiness, but using the methods of my life's training under an immutable code of routine and responsibility. This isn't without saying that my behavior changed. The faux-masculine rigidity i sported melted away to reveal a happy-go-luckier persona that I now enjoy very much so.But that's not what this story about.Just last month I went on a trip to another country. As is per sexual predator protocol, once I got my internet up and running, I turned on my phone and started to peacock the living shit out of me. Because I fit a certain category, i started getting notifications and the locals started biting.Being the picky bastard that I am, I dismissed a lot of them. I would ask them at times for good places to go to, but having to shag a stranger in another country I've rarely been to would require a bit of grocery shopping prior. I went through my memorized motions, bought lube and rubber and stuff, and prepared.Then it happened. He happened.While I try to write about him, describing William is an exercise in restraint. There is a lot to say about the man, but at the same time not everything should be said, because if I do I run the risk of sounding like a complete doormat who would do anything just to make him happy. He was, like me, a tourist in the country, on the prowl. He pinged me and I replied. All my criteria was met: age was ok, face was fine, body proved that he took care of himself, basic indications of things that you would find in a decent human being. Further exchanges. Pictures OK-ed out, location traded, told me he was alone, so I headed out. If I could condense the entire night into a few well-chosen words, they would be: embarrassing beyond belief, drug-addled, and nuclear. I tried out new things, experimented greatly and generally figured out parts of me that I didn't even know existed until that point.In a way, he helped me find out more about me, which really is what life is all about isn't it? How can we find our purpose if we don't know ourselves? Especially if one spent the majority of his current life trying to pretend to be something he's not?After the deed, he asks me what my plans were for the remainder of my trip. I tell him that I plan ed to visit one of those "men only" clubs (which is more of my ritual when I travel to other countries). He invited himself to go with me, which worked in my favor, because I would have wanted him to come with anyway.Where does the homewrecker factor into this story?Well, William has a boyfriend, who joined us in the festivities. As a matter of preference, I really didn't like the partner, but I engaged with him as a courtesy to William.William tells me that they're in an "open relationship" (which to me is a foreign concept), and then tells me about his own voracity for meat that whenever he goes to another country, he goes on marathons of men upon men upon men just to make up for the lack of pickings that is his homeland.Long story short, after the night at the men's only club, and a few last sessions of sex with me the day after, they had a fight that Without a doubt I am the cause of.Straight out of a drama scene. He storms out of the rented space, and as I was getting out of the loo, I catch William dressed and storming out of the unit in what I could only describe as confused rage. He leaves, and his boyfriend looks at me and motions for me to follow him. "Watch him, don't let him go." I had to grab the nearest pieces of clothing and even forgot to put on footwear as I chased after William.It's laughable how I saw it from a mile away and yet did nothing. Now I was standing barefoot, trying to calm down a giant of a man who can snap me in half (with difficulty) like a twig, as we rode down the elevator.We eventually reach the outside and I convince him to sit on the benches by the street. And before he even asks me anything, I preempt him by saying, "it's my fault." I kept telling him that I shouldn't have led him on. I explained to him (because he's a man's man) how certain actions may seem to other gay men. I got this from my experience and unnaturally powerful gaydar, because we all know the only way to know what a bitch is thinking is to think like one.But deep down, I was lying to him. Even worse, I was lying to myself yet again. William was a new experience for me, someone who has shown me that there exist people like him, the one guy who fit all your sexual and physical categories so perfectly that it will make you believe that some cosmic entity out there decided to fuck you up by introducing him to you with a boyfriend included, the metaphysical cockblock. I enjoyed his company, and all the stories he told me of himself, and of the things he has taught me of myself. In a short span of 3 days he has become (to me) my gaybro with whom I have nothing more to hide.And yet here I was, explaining to him, telling him that he cannot leave his partner of 10 years. That they will weather this speedbump (me), that everything will be all right. I gave him tips on how to improve their relationship, how he can improve himself for his boyfriend. As I was telling him this, I interspersed it with my telling him of how I wanted him inside me again, how fantastic his physicality was, and how unfair that his boyfriend got to him first. That is how much I like William, I would much rather see him happy than myself happy. I may be a homewrecker but my moral code dictated that I take the high ground.As I gave him advise on how to make up with his boyfriend, William starts to tear up. Which struck me as odd. So I asked him why the waterworks. I preempted his answer by asking "are you just now realizing that you and your boyfriend have gone through a lot together? And that you can't afford to leave him because then all the years of compromise that you did will amount to nothing if you do?"And he tells me "yeah, something like that.""You do realize that we won't be able to see each other again?""Yeah."So we proceed back into the unit and I prepare to pack my things (they agreed to let me stay and share in the rent until I left the country) for my premature exit. While I was packing, he messages me. He tells me that he will cherish the conversation that we had by the benches, that he wishes he had someone like myself back home to help him with these problems that have troubled him and his boyfriend for the duration of their relationship. He tells me that he will never forget me.I lost my shit. I was sobbing the entire time I headed out back into the city to rent a random hotel room. To date I cannot get what he said out of my mind. Those select few words changed everything that what once attracted him to me. Because he was now more than a person who fit all your physical criteria, more than the mind-blowing sex machine that he is, he became not just a gaybro, he saw me as his best gaybro, validating how I saw him.And now I can never have him, see him, meet him, because his boyfriend hates me. I shudder to think if the reason he was tearing up when we were at the benches is because he liked me just much as I liked him. I will not be able to handle it.I have never been more confused than I am now in my entire life. I'm not requiring your advice, I just want ears. I am currently really really sad, though writing it all down has been very therapeutic, if lacking. If you want to leave a few words, please do, be it vitriol, disgust or anything else. I just need to weather the next few weeks and see if the next year is worth going through.TLDR: New gay homewrecker gets rekt by cosmic cockblock with a few well chosen words, is now depressed af