Q: I’m a 29-year-old gay man just shy of five years sober. I’ve had to do a lot of work on myself in recovery to accept and love myself after being dragged to conversion therapy when I was a teenager by my narcissistic evangelical parents. I met a guy in AA in May who at the time was nine months sober. His sobriety coincided with him coming out. He’s 27 years old and still unpacking a lot. He broke up with a girlfriend a few months before we met and I’m the first guy he’s ever dated. I was initially hesitant about getting involved with him, given these parameters, but I went for it anyway. The first two months were great. We had great chemistry and great sex, we went on dates, etc. A month ago he hit me with, “I don’t want to be in a relationship as I’m exploring my sexuality.” My initial reaction was to step back and assume this was the end. However, nothing changed. He continued to initiate affection and even threw me a birthday party at his home with decorations he bought. A week later he hits me with, “I’ve lost the romantic spark but I still want to hang out, have sex, and go on dates.” I’m mainly just thrown by the lack of alignment between his words and actions. Should I just accept this relationship for whatever it is and date other people? The sex is great, but I feel very romantically involved—four months in—and I’m not sure it’s wise to get more involved. —Behaves Like A Boyfriend But Excludes Romantic Stamp 

A: Telling someone to disengage romantically is easy, BLABBERS. Actually disengaging romantically is hard.

I’ve heard from so many people over the years who were struggling to smother romantic feelings for lovers who did them wrong. People pining away for exes who fucked their best friends, emptied their checking accounts, and refused to respond to their texts. So, while I could tell you to adjust your romantic expectations downward while you keep fucking this boy, the odds of you being able to keep your romantic feelings in check—much less smother them—while he’s hosting birthday parties for you and sucking your dick are close to zero. If you keep seeing this guy, the emotional hits (“I don’t want a relationship,” “I feel no spark”) will keep coming.

So, what’s up with this guy? If he acts like a boyfriend and fucks like a boyfriend, why doesn’t he want to be a boyfriend?

Maybe he’s still exploring his sexuality—maybe it’s just what he told you—and he worries that labeling the relationship, e.g., becoming boyfriend official, is going to limit him. He is a recent refugee from Straightland, after all, and most residents of Straightland have no concept of romantic relationships that aren’t sexually exclusive. (Except for straight people who read my column and listen to the Lovecast!) Just because he’s out doesn’t mean he’s up to speed.

Or maybe he’s not gay.

You say he just came out, BLABBER, but you don’t say what he came out as. You also say the sex has been great, and I believe you. Guys sometimes discover they like having sex with men and then assume they must be gay; they see enjoying sex with other men as disqualifying where straightness is concerned. And so it is. But it’s not disqualifying where bisexuality is concerned. So, if this guy came out as gay because he thought he had to be gay because otherwise he wouldn’t enjoy your dick so much, his lack of romantic feelings for you—if coupled with ongoing romantic and/or sexual attractions to women—could mean he’s bisexual and heteroromantic (BAH). It’s a thing. BAH guys can confuse gay men; while some BAH guys don’t want anything to do with their male sex partners before or after sex, other BAH guys are open to being “buds.” These BAH guys—BAH guys who wanna hang out, go on dates, host your birthday party—not only confuse gay dudes, they sometimes break our hearts.

Or maybe this guy knows you could be boyfriends without being exclusive (maybe you explained that to him) or maybe he’s gay and not into you the same way you’re into him (also a thing, and a sad one). But whatever his issues might be, BLABBERS, you should see other people while he explores/sucks/fucks his way through those issues. And if hanging out with him right now is too painful—if seeing him hurts too much—don’t hang out with him, don’t socialize with him, don’t take turns sitting on dicks with him. He was honest and direct with you, BLABBERS, and you should be just as honest and direct with him. Getting the boyfriend treatment from a guy who not only insists he isn’t your boyfriend but also doesn’t have any romantic feelings for you—the gap you perceive between his actions and his words—is going to make you miserable if you can’t disengage romantically, BLABBERS, which you most likely can’t. Tell him you’re not angry, you don’t hate him, and you still like him very much. And that’s the problem: you like him way more than he likes you. As much as you enjoy his company, as much as you enjoy his dick, continuing to date or fuck him means feeding your self-esteem into an emotional shredder. 

P.S. Congrats on your sobriety—and while I hope your parents apologized to you at some point, I’m guessing they haven’t, seeing as they aren’t just evangelicals, but narcissists to boot.

There is more to this week’s Savage Love. To read the entire column, go to Savage.Love.

Read More

Q: I’m a 29-year-old gay man just shy of five years sober. I’ve had to do a lot of work on myself in recovery to accept and love myself after being dragged to conversion therapy when I was a teenager by my narcissistic evangelical parents. I met a guy in AA in May who at the time was nine months sober. His sobriety coincided with him coming out. He’s 27 years old and still unpacking a lot. He broke up with a girlfriend a few months before we met and I’m the first guy he’s ever dated. I was initially hesitant about getting involved with him, given these parameters, but I went for it anyway. The first two months were great. We had great chemistry and great sex, we went on dates, etc. A month ago he hit me with, “I don’t want to be in a relationship as I’m exploring my sexuality.” My initial reaction was to step back and assume this was the end. However, nothing changed. He continued to initiate affection and even threw me a birthday party at his home with decorations he bought. A week later he hits me with, “I’ve lost the romantic spark but I still want to hang out, have sex, and go on dates.” I’m mainly just thrown by the lack of alignment between his words and actions. Should I just accept this relationship for whatever it is and date other people? The sex is great, but I feel very romantically involved—four months in—and I’m not sure it’s wise to get more involved. —Behaves Like A Boyfriend But Excludes Romantic Stamp 

A: Telling someone to disengage romantically is easy, BLABBERS. Actually disengaging romantically is hard.

I’ve heard from so many people over the years who were struggling to smother romantic feelings for lovers who did them wrong. People pining away for exes who fucked their best friends, emptied their checking accounts, and refused to respond to their texts. So, while I could tell you to adjust your romantic expectations downward while you keep fucking this boy, the odds of you being able to keep your romantic feelings in check—much less smother them—while he’s hosting birthday parties for you and sucking your dick are close to zero. If you keep seeing this guy, the emotional hits (“I don’t want a relationship,” “I feel no spark”) will keep coming.

So, what’s up with this guy? If he acts like a boyfriend and fucks like a boyfriend, why doesn’t he want to be a boyfriend?

Maybe he’s still exploring his sexuality—maybe it’s just what he told you—and he worries that labeling the relationship, e.g., becoming boyfriend official, is going to limit him. He is a recent refugee from Straightland, after all, and most residents of Straightland have no concept of romantic relationships that aren’t sexually exclusive. (Except for straight people who read my column and listen to the Lovecast!) Just because he’s out doesn’t mean he’s up to speed.

Or maybe he’s not gay.

You say he just came out, BLABBER, but you don’t say what he came out as. You also say the sex has been great, and I believe you. Guys sometimes discover they like having sex with men and then assume they must be gay; they see enjoying sex with other men as disqualifying where straightness is concerned. And so it is. But it’s not disqualifying where bisexuality is concerned. So, if this guy came out as gay because he thought he had to be gay because otherwise he wouldn’t enjoy your dick so much, his lack of romantic feelings for you—if coupled with ongoing romantic and/or sexual attractions to women—could mean he’s bisexual and heteroromantic (BAH). It’s a thing. BAH guys can confuse gay men; while some BAH guys don’t want anything to do with their male sex partners before or after sex, other BAH guys are open to being “buds.” These BAH guys—BAH guys who wanna hang out, go on dates, host your birthday party—not only confuse gay dudes, they sometimes break our hearts.

Or maybe this guy knows you could be boyfriends without being exclusive (maybe you explained that to him) or maybe he’s gay and not into you the same way you’re into him (also a thing, and a sad one). But whatever his issues might be, BLABBERS, you should see other people while he explores/sucks/fucks his way through those issues. And if hanging out with him right now is too painful—if seeing him hurts too much—don’t hang out with him, don’t socialize with him, don’t take turns sitting on dicks with him. He was honest and direct with you, BLABBERS, and you should be just as honest and direct with him. Getting the boyfriend treatment from a guy who not only insists he isn’t your boyfriend but also doesn’t have any romantic feelings for you—the gap you perceive between his actions and his words—is going to make you miserable if you can’t disengage romantically, BLABBERS, which you most likely can’t. Tell him you’re not angry, you don’t hate him, and you still like him very much. And that’s the problem: you like him way more than he likes you. As much as you enjoy his company, as much as you enjoy his dick, continuing to date or fuck him means feeding your self-esteem into an emotional shredder. 

P.S. Congrats on your sobriety—and while I hope your parents apologized to you at some point, I’m guessing they haven’t, seeing as they aren’t just evangelicals, but narcissists to boot.

There is more to this week’s Savage Love. To read the entire column, go to Savage.Love.

Read More

If you’ve ever been to a show at Thalia Hall, you’ve walked right past Anna-Michal Paul’s work. She creates the hand-drawn chalk art that greets concertgoers as they ascend the stairs to the second-floor venue. Her detailed, textured portraits and stylized lettering, which she catalogs on Instagram at latenightchalkshow, are as much a part of Thalia’s identity as the musicians who headline the hall every time they come to Chicago. In fact, because she’s created thousands of promotional chalk designs for Thalia, you could argue that she’s its most frequently booked artist.

As told to Leor Galil

I moved to Chicago in 2012. Dusek’s, I think, was opening up shortly after that. I was hosting there and started doing their beer board, which was basically just writing up their rotating drafts. One of the bar managers one day was like, “You should try this one font—this beer company’s got a really cool font.” So that developed. About a year later, when Thalia Hall opened, Pete Falknor, the manager, asked me to do the chalkboard—they’ve got this massive eight-by-ten chalkboard. 

It was honestly just kind of a job for a while. It was just something to pay the bills with. Over the years, it’s developed into, like, “What can I do next? What can I create?” I’ve started doing more portraits, and I’ve started doing a little more involved pieces, which has been a lot of fun. I was actually just talking to [16 on Center assistant talent buyer] Bobby Ramirez, and we found out that with an average of 200 shows a year I’ve done roughly 2,000 chalk murals. It’s wild to think about.

I grew up in a very artistic family. And [art making] has always been something that’s just kind of been around, and something that . . . I therefore probably took for granted. So I think hearing other people appreciate what I was doing kind of gave me a little boost. Like, “Oh, this is interesting. I can make this into something more.” And I love to challenge myself. I’m a very self-competitive person. I wanted to push it and see what I could do. I think maybe three or four years ago is when I started doing more portraits. 

In second grade, I would draw caricatures of friends in Sunday school, or I would skip certain classes to get to art class early and finish up projects. It has definitely been something that has just been a part of my life. I will say, it was really hard as a young kid—I have five older siblings, two of which are older sisters, and both of them are incredibly talented artists. So I was definitely growing up in that shadow and always feeling like a little caboose trying to keep up with them. They were big shoes to fill. One of them got a full ride to the Art Institute, and the other is now teaching art full-time. 

When they left my surroundings is when I started to really explore more and explore my own internal inspiration—expressing what is truly coming from me, and not necessarily trying to mimic or follow in someone’s footsteps.

My family joke is that I live a very haphazard life. And yeah, I do; life just kind of happens to me. I was invited to live up here with two of my sisters. One was leaving for the Peace Corps, and the other planned to stay in a little two-bedroom apartment in Pilsen—where I paid $650 a month for the whole place. And then seven months passed, and [my sister] Caroline decided to move back to North Carolina. And that was around the time that I got the job at Dusek’s. I most definitely was not focusing on creativity. I was, you know, processing being in the city by myself, being 20 years old, and working at a bar-restaurant—that leads to less creativity. 

It was more of a fun time for me, which is still an expression of oneself. Even the way you present yourself—clothing is also a way that I creatively express myself. I’m really lucky to have been given the opportunity to have a canvas that’s given to me every single day, and being forced into that routine of exercising the artistic muscle of creating. 

This was always a side hustle. I went from hosting to serving. I worked at a cocktail bar for a couple years. In 2015, I took the jump to go completely freelance—I took the jump to leave the industry and really just challenge myself to hustle. To really look for ways to support myself while still doing creative things: filmmaking, art. 

It just worked! I was still doing graphic design, even when I went freelance. I was looking for any bar or restaurant that needed sidewalk chalkboards done or menu boards done. Thalia was a really nice liaison; people would come to shows and follow up with me and say, “Hey, I’ve got a restaurant and a chalkboard that needs help. Do you want to come make it pretty?” Establishing those kinds of relationships, and creating repeat customers through that, really helped me establish a career. Now, Thalia is basically my bread and butter—aside from, like, street fests in the summertime. 

The night before, I’ll research the band—just a quick Google search of the band name, followed by a poster or album cover, and see what pops up. Scroll through and see what shape, what images, catch my eye—colors, patterns. I’ll download a bunch of those photos. When I get [to Thalia], the most satisfying part is erasing the night before’s [chalk art], believe it or not.

I’ll usually start with the graphic—the image itself. I tend to do the band name last. I’ll use the side of the chalk, and I’ll create this rough ghost-shadow of whatever image I’m putting up there. Then I’ll step back. I’ll envision where I want the words to go, and if it doesn’t fit, it’s a light sketch, so I’ll be able to move it around easily. Then I take it one little section at a time. 

I love Ty, so I’m like, “I’m gonna put some good time into this. I’m gonna make this really fucking awesome.” Instead of just filling sections in, I’m filling it in with patterns and swirls. I’m like three hours in, and someone comes up behind me and says “excuse me.” I turn around, and it’s Ty Segall. He introduces himself—which he did not need to. He says, “I’m so sorry, but that is from a different band of mine.” [Editor’s note: Anna-Michal was re-creating the album art for the Ty Segall Band’s 2012 album Slaughterhouse; the group performing that night was Fuzz.]

He just kept apologizing: “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” “No problem, dude. I’ll change it into something else.” I ended up turning the face of—it was a skeleton or something—into the face of the fuzz creature, the blue creature on their [2013 self-titled] album. I got it on time-lapse too. So I’ve got little clips of me blushing and talking to Ty Segall while he’s sitting there apologizing to me, and I’m like, “I’m sorry for fucking up your stuff.” And he’s like, “I’m sorry for fucking up your stuff.” That was a pleasant experience.

Not gonna lie—I absolutely take it for granted so often. I think a lot of that is due to the fact that it all kind of happened to me, and it kind of birthed itself. But that being said, I do reach moments of taking a step back and looking at this weird-ass life with this weird-ass job that I have, and things that I would never even have imagined for myself, and it’s really fucking cool. What an opportunity, to get to come into contact with these people that are influencing music, and in one of the biggest music cities in the country. It’s an honor. I’m humbled. I’m all of these things. It’s just cool.

And it’s a huge privilege to be able to do this. Not a lot of people get to walk into work and look forward to fucking up the thing they did the night before so they can make something new. The people that work there are just incredible, and the people that come through . . . nothing but good vibes.

Read More

If you’ve ever been to a show at Thalia Hall, you’ve walked right past Anna-Michal Paul’s work. She creates the hand-drawn chalk art that greets concertgoers as they ascend the stairs to the second-floor venue. Her detailed, textured portraits and stylized lettering, which she catalogs on Instagram at latenightchalkshow, are as much a part of Thalia’s identity as the musicians who headline the hall every time they come to Chicago. In fact, because she’s created thousands of promotional chalk designs for Thalia, you could argue that she’s its most frequently booked artist.

As told to Leor Galil

I moved to Chicago in 2012. Dusek’s, I think, was opening up shortly after that. I was hosting there and started doing their beer board, which was basically just writing up their rotating drafts. One of the bar managers one day was like, “You should try this one font—this beer company’s got a really cool font.” So that developed. About a year later, when Thalia Hall opened, Pete Falknor, the manager, asked me to do the chalkboard—they’ve got this massive eight-by-ten chalkboard. 

It was honestly just kind of a job for a while. It was just something to pay the bills with. Over the years, it’s developed into, like, “What can I do next? What can I create?” I’ve started doing more portraits, and I’ve started doing a little more involved pieces, which has been a lot of fun. I was actually just talking to [16 on Center assistant talent buyer] Bobby Ramirez, and we found out that with an average of 200 shows a year I’ve done roughly 2,000 chalk murals. It’s wild to think about.

I grew up in a very artistic family. And [art making] has always been something that’s just kind of been around, and something that . . . I therefore probably took for granted. So I think hearing other people appreciate what I was doing kind of gave me a little boost. Like, “Oh, this is interesting. I can make this into something more.” And I love to challenge myself. I’m a very self-competitive person. I wanted to push it and see what I could do. I think maybe three or four years ago is when I started doing more portraits. 

In second grade, I would draw caricatures of friends in Sunday school, or I would skip certain classes to get to art class early and finish up projects. It has definitely been something that has just been a part of my life. I will say, it was really hard as a young kid—I have five older siblings, two of which are older sisters, and both of them are incredibly talented artists. So I was definitely growing up in that shadow and always feeling like a little caboose trying to keep up with them. They were big shoes to fill. One of them got a full ride to the Art Institute, and the other is now teaching art full-time. 

When they left my surroundings is when I started to really explore more and explore my own internal inspiration—expressing what is truly coming from me, and not necessarily trying to mimic or follow in someone’s footsteps.

My family joke is that I live a very haphazard life. And yeah, I do; life just kind of happens to me. I was invited to live up here with two of my sisters. One was leaving for the Peace Corps, and the other planned to stay in a little two-bedroom apartment in Pilsen—where I paid $650 a month for the whole place. And then seven months passed, and [my sister] Caroline decided to move back to North Carolina. And that was around the time that I got the job at Dusek’s. I most definitely was not focusing on creativity. I was, you know, processing being in the city by myself, being 20 years old, and working at a bar-restaurant—that leads to less creativity. 

It was more of a fun time for me, which is still an expression of oneself. Even the way you present yourself—clothing is also a way that I creatively express myself. I’m really lucky to have been given the opportunity to have a canvas that’s given to me every single day, and being forced into that routine of exercising the artistic muscle of creating. 

This was always a side hustle. I went from hosting to serving. I worked at a cocktail bar for a couple years. In 2015, I took the jump to go completely freelance—I took the jump to leave the industry and really just challenge myself to hustle. To really look for ways to support myself while still doing creative things: filmmaking, art. 

It just worked! I was still doing graphic design, even when I went freelance. I was looking for any bar or restaurant that needed sidewalk chalkboards done or menu boards done. Thalia was a really nice liaison; people would come to shows and follow up with me and say, “Hey, I’ve got a restaurant and a chalkboard that needs help. Do you want to come make it pretty?” Establishing those kinds of relationships, and creating repeat customers through that, really helped me establish a career. Now, Thalia is basically my bread and butter—aside from, like, street fests in the summertime. 

The night before, I’ll research the band—just a quick Google search of the band name, followed by a poster or album cover, and see what pops up. Scroll through and see what shape, what images, catch my eye—colors, patterns. I’ll download a bunch of those photos. When I get [to Thalia], the most satisfying part is erasing the night before’s [chalk art], believe it or not.

I’ll usually start with the graphic—the image itself. I tend to do the band name last. I’ll use the side of the chalk, and I’ll create this rough ghost-shadow of whatever image I’m putting up there. Then I’ll step back. I’ll envision where I want the words to go, and if it doesn’t fit, it’s a light sketch, so I’ll be able to move it around easily. Then I take it one little section at a time. 

I love Ty, so I’m like, “I’m gonna put some good time into this. I’m gonna make this really fucking awesome.” Instead of just filling sections in, I’m filling it in with patterns and swirls. I’m like three hours in, and someone comes up behind me and says “excuse me.” I turn around, and it’s Ty Segall. He introduces himself—which he did not need to. He says, “I’m so sorry, but that is from a different band of mine.” [Editor’s note: Anna-Michal was re-creating the album art for the Ty Segall Band’s 2012 album Slaughterhouse; the group performing that night was Fuzz.]

He just kept apologizing: “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” “No problem, dude. I’ll change it into something else.” I ended up turning the face of—it was a skeleton or something—into the face of the fuzz creature, the blue creature on their [2013 self-titled] album. I got it on time-lapse too. So I’ve got little clips of me blushing and talking to Ty Segall while he’s sitting there apologizing to me, and I’m like, “I’m sorry for fucking up your stuff.” And he’s like, “I’m sorry for fucking up your stuff.” That was a pleasant experience.

Not gonna lie—I absolutely take it for granted so often. I think a lot of that is due to the fact that it all kind of happened to me, and it kind of birthed itself. But that being said, I do reach moments of taking a step back and looking at this weird-ass life with this weird-ass job that I have, and things that I would never even have imagined for myself, and it’s really fucking cool. What an opportunity, to get to come into contact with these people that are influencing music, and in one of the biggest music cities in the country. It’s an honor. I’m humbled. I’m all of these things. It’s just cool.

And it’s a huge privilege to be able to do this. Not a lot of people get to walk into work and look forward to fucking up the thing they did the night before so they can make something new. The people that work there are just incredible, and the people that come through . . . nothing but good vibes.

Read More

Q: I’m a 29-year-old gay man just shy of five years sober. I’ve had to do a lot of work on myself in recovery to accept and love myself after being dragged to conversion therapy when I was a teenager by my narcissistic evangelical parents. I met a guy in AA in May who at the time was nine months sober. His sobriety coincided with him coming out. He’s 27 years old and still unpacking a lot. He broke up with a girlfriend a few months before we met and I’m the first guy he’s ever dated. I was initially hesitant about getting involved with him, given these parameters, but I went for it anyway. The first two months were great. We had great chemistry and great sex, we went on dates, etc. A month ago he hit me with, “I don’t want to be in a relationship as I’m exploring my sexuality.” My initial reaction was to step back and assume this was the end. However, nothing changed. He continued to initiate affection and even threw me a birthday party at his home with decorations he bought. A week later he hits me with, “I’ve lost the romantic spark but I still want to hang out, have sex, and go on dates.” I’m mainly just thrown by the lack of alignment between his words and actions. Should I just accept this relationship for whatever it is and date other people? The sex is great, but I feel very romantically involved—four months in—and I’m not sure it’s wise to get more involved. —Behaves Like A Boyfriend But Excludes Romantic Stamp 

A: Telling someone to disengage romantically is easy, BLABBERS. Actually disengaging romantically is hard.

I’ve heard from so many people over the years who were struggling to smother romantic feelings for lovers who did them wrong. People pining away for exes who fucked their best friends, emptied their checking accounts, and refused to respond to their texts. So, while I could tell you to adjust your romantic expectations downward while you keep fucking this boy, the odds of you being able to keep your romantic feelings in check—much less smother them—while he’s hosting birthday parties for you and sucking your dick are close to zero. If you keep seeing this guy, the emotional hits (“I don’t want a relationship,” “I feel no spark”) will keep coming.

So, what’s up with this guy? If he acts like a boyfriend and fucks like a boyfriend, why doesn’t he want to be a boyfriend?

Maybe he’s still exploring his sexuality—maybe it’s just what he told you—and he worries that labeling the relationship, e.g., becoming boyfriend official, is going to limit him. He is a recent refugee from Straightland, after all, and most residents of Straightland have no concept of romantic relationships that aren’t sexually exclusive. (Except for straight people who read my column and listen to the Lovecast!) Just because he’s out doesn’t mean he’s up to speed.

Or maybe he’s not gay.

You say he just came out, BLABBER, but you don’t say what he came out as. You also say the sex has been great, and I believe you. Guys sometimes discover they like having sex with men and then assume they must be gay; they see enjoying sex with other men as disqualifying where straightness is concerned. And so it is. But it’s not disqualifying where bisexuality is concerned. So, if this guy came out as gay because he thought he had to be gay because otherwise he wouldn’t enjoy your dick so much, his lack of romantic feelings for you—if coupled with ongoing romantic and/or sexual attractions to women—could mean he’s bisexual and heteroromantic (BAH). It’s a thing. BAH guys can confuse gay men; while some BAH guys don’t want anything to do with their male sex partners before or after sex, other BAH guys are open to being “buds.” These BAH guys—BAH guys who wanna hang out, go on dates, host your birthday party—not only confuse gay dudes, they sometimes break our hearts.

Or maybe this guy knows you could be boyfriends without being exclusive (maybe you explained that to him) or maybe he’s gay and not into you the same way you’re into him (also a thing, and a sad one). But whatever his issues might be, BLABBERS, you should see other people while he explores/sucks/fucks his way through those issues. And if hanging out with him right now is too painful—if seeing him hurts too much—don’t hang out with him, don’t socialize with him, don’t take turns sitting on dicks with him. He was honest and direct with you, BLABBERS, and you should be just as honest and direct with him. Getting the boyfriend treatment from a guy who not only insists he isn’t your boyfriend but also doesn’t have any romantic feelings for you—the gap you perceive between his actions and his words—is going to make you miserable if you can’t disengage romantically, BLABBERS, which you most likely can’t. Tell him you’re not angry, you don’t hate him, and you still like him very much. And that’s the problem: you like him way more than he likes you. As much as you enjoy his company, as much as you enjoy his dick, continuing to date or fuck him means feeding your self-esteem into an emotional shredder. 

P.S. Congrats on your sobriety—and while I hope your parents apologized to you at some point, I’m guessing they haven’t, seeing as they aren’t just evangelicals, but narcissists to boot.

There is more to this week’s Savage Love. To read the entire column, go to Savage.Love.

Read More

Q: I’m a 29-year-old gay man just shy of five years sober. I’ve had to do a lot of work on myself in recovery to accept and love myself after being dragged to conversion therapy when I was a teenager by my narcissistic evangelical parents. I met a guy in AA in May who at the time was nine months sober. His sobriety coincided with him coming out. He’s 27 years old and still unpacking a lot. He broke up with a girlfriend a few months before we met and I’m the first guy he’s ever dated. I was initially hesitant about getting involved with him, given these parameters, but I went for it anyway. The first two months were great. We had great chemistry and great sex, we went on dates, etc. A month ago he hit me with, “I don’t want to be in a relationship as I’m exploring my sexuality.” My initial reaction was to step back and assume this was the end. However, nothing changed. He continued to initiate affection and even threw me a birthday party at his home with decorations he bought. A week later he hits me with, “I’ve lost the romantic spark but I still want to hang out, have sex, and go on dates.” I’m mainly just thrown by the lack of alignment between his words and actions. Should I just accept this relationship for whatever it is and date other people? The sex is great, but I feel very romantically involved—four months in—and I’m not sure it’s wise to get more involved. —Behaves Like A Boyfriend But Excludes Romantic Stamp 

A: Telling someone to disengage romantically is easy, BLABBERS. Actually disengaging romantically is hard.

I’ve heard from so many people over the years who were struggling to smother romantic feelings for lovers who did them wrong. People pining away for exes who fucked their best friends, emptied their checking accounts, and refused to respond to their texts. So, while I could tell you to adjust your romantic expectations downward while you keep fucking this boy, the odds of you being able to keep your romantic feelings in check—much less smother them—while he’s hosting birthday parties for you and sucking your dick are close to zero. If you keep seeing this guy, the emotional hits (“I don’t want a relationship,” “I feel no spark”) will keep coming.

So, what’s up with this guy? If he acts like a boyfriend and fucks like a boyfriend, why doesn’t he want to be a boyfriend?

Maybe he’s still exploring his sexuality—maybe it’s just what he told you—and he worries that labeling the relationship, e.g., becoming boyfriend official, is going to limit him. He is a recent refugee from Straightland, after all, and most residents of Straightland have no concept of romantic relationships that aren’t sexually exclusive. (Except for straight people who read my column and listen to the Lovecast!) Just because he’s out doesn’t mean he’s up to speed.

Or maybe he’s not gay.

You say he just came out, BLABBER, but you don’t say what he came out as. You also say the sex has been great, and I believe you. Guys sometimes discover they like having sex with men and then assume they must be gay; they see enjoying sex with other men as disqualifying where straightness is concerned. And so it is. But it’s not disqualifying where bisexuality is concerned. So, if this guy came out as gay because he thought he had to be gay because otherwise he wouldn’t enjoy your dick so much, his lack of romantic feelings for you—if coupled with ongoing romantic and/or sexual attractions to women—could mean he’s bisexual and heteroromantic (BAH). It’s a thing. BAH guys can confuse gay men; while some BAH guys don’t want anything to do with their male sex partners before or after sex, other BAH guys are open to being “buds.” These BAH guys—BAH guys who wanna hang out, go on dates, host your birthday party—not only confuse gay dudes, they sometimes break our hearts.

Or maybe this guy knows you could be boyfriends without being exclusive (maybe you explained that to him) or maybe he’s gay and not into you the same way you’re into him (also a thing, and a sad one). But whatever his issues might be, BLABBERS, you should see other people while he explores/sucks/fucks his way through those issues. And if hanging out with him right now is too painful—if seeing him hurts too much—don’t hang out with him, don’t socialize with him, don’t take turns sitting on dicks with him. He was honest and direct with you, BLABBERS, and you should be just as honest and direct with him. Getting the boyfriend treatment from a guy who not only insists he isn’t your boyfriend but also doesn’t have any romantic feelings for you—the gap you perceive between his actions and his words—is going to make you miserable if you can’t disengage romantically, BLABBERS, which you most likely can’t. Tell him you’re not angry, you don’t hate him, and you still like him very much. And that’s the problem: you like him way more than he likes you. As much as you enjoy his company, as much as you enjoy his dick, continuing to date or fuck him means feeding your self-esteem into an emotional shredder. 

P.S. Congrats on your sobriety—and while I hope your parents apologized to you at some point, I’m guessing they haven’t, seeing as they aren’t just evangelicals, but narcissists to boot.

There is more to this week’s Savage Love. To read the entire column, go to Savage.Love.

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If you’ve ever been to a show at Thalia Hall, you’ve walked right past Anna-Michal Paul’s work. She creates the hand-drawn chalk art that greets concertgoers as they ascend the stairs to the second-floor venue. Her detailed, textured portraits and stylized lettering, which she catalogs on Instagram at latenightchalkshow, are as much a part of Thalia’s identity as the musicians who headline the hall every time they come to Chicago. In fact, because she’s created thousands of promotional chalk designs for Thalia, you could argue that she’s its most frequently booked artist.

As told to Leor Galil

I moved to Chicago in 2012. Dusek’s, I think, was opening up shortly after that. I was hosting there and started doing their beer board, which was basically just writing up their rotating drafts. One of the bar managers one day was like, “You should try this one font—this beer company’s got a really cool font.” So that developed. About a year later, when Thalia Hall opened, Pete Falknor, the manager, asked me to do the chalkboard—they’ve got this massive eight-by-ten chalkboard. 

It was honestly just kind of a job for a while. It was just something to pay the bills with. Over the years, it’s developed into, like, “What can I do next? What can I create?” I’ve started doing more portraits, and I’ve started doing a little more involved pieces, which has been a lot of fun. I was actually just talking to [16 on Center assistant talent buyer] Bobby Ramirez, and we found out that with an average of 200 shows a year I’ve done roughly 2,000 chalk murals. It’s wild to think about.

I grew up in a very artistic family. And [art making] has always been something that’s just kind of been around, and something that . . . I therefore probably took for granted. So I think hearing other people appreciate what I was doing kind of gave me a little boost. Like, “Oh, this is interesting. I can make this into something more.” And I love to challenge myself. I’m a very self-competitive person. I wanted to push it and see what I could do. I think maybe three or four years ago is when I started doing more portraits. 

In second grade, I would draw caricatures of friends in Sunday school, or I would skip certain classes to get to art class early and finish up projects. It has definitely been something that has just been a part of my life. I will say, it was really hard as a young kid—I have five older siblings, two of which are older sisters, and both of them are incredibly talented artists. So I was definitely growing up in that shadow and always feeling like a little caboose trying to keep up with them. They were big shoes to fill. One of them got a full ride to the Art Institute, and the other is now teaching art full-time. 

When they left my surroundings is when I started to really explore more and explore my own internal inspiration—expressing what is truly coming from me, and not necessarily trying to mimic or follow in someone’s footsteps.

My family joke is that I live a very haphazard life. And yeah, I do; life just kind of happens to me. I was invited to live up here with two of my sisters. One was leaving for the Peace Corps, and the other planned to stay in a little two-bedroom apartment in Pilsen—where I paid $650 a month for the whole place. And then seven months passed, and [my sister] Caroline decided to move back to North Carolina. And that was around the time that I got the job at Dusek’s. I most definitely was not focusing on creativity. I was, you know, processing being in the city by myself, being 20 years old, and working at a bar-restaurant—that leads to less creativity. 

It was more of a fun time for me, which is still an expression of oneself. Even the way you present yourself—clothing is also a way that I creatively express myself. I’m really lucky to have been given the opportunity to have a canvas that’s given to me every single day, and being forced into that routine of exercising the artistic muscle of creating. 

This was always a side hustle. I went from hosting to serving. I worked at a cocktail bar for a couple years. In 2015, I took the jump to go completely freelance—I took the jump to leave the industry and really just challenge myself to hustle. To really look for ways to support myself while still doing creative things: filmmaking, art. 

It just worked! I was still doing graphic design, even when I went freelance. I was looking for any bar or restaurant that needed sidewalk chalkboards done or menu boards done. Thalia was a really nice liaison; people would come to shows and follow up with me and say, “Hey, I’ve got a restaurant and a chalkboard that needs help. Do you want to come make it pretty?” Establishing those kinds of relationships, and creating repeat customers through that, really helped me establish a career. Now, Thalia is basically my bread and butter—aside from, like, street fests in the summertime. 

The night before, I’ll research the band—just a quick Google search of the band name, followed by a poster or album cover, and see what pops up. Scroll through and see what shape, what images, catch my eye—colors, patterns. I’ll download a bunch of those photos. When I get [to Thalia], the most satisfying part is erasing the night before’s [chalk art], believe it or not.

I’ll usually start with the graphic—the image itself. I tend to do the band name last. I’ll use the side of the chalk, and I’ll create this rough ghost-shadow of whatever image I’m putting up there. Then I’ll step back. I’ll envision where I want the words to go, and if it doesn’t fit, it’s a light sketch, so I’ll be able to move it around easily. Then I take it one little section at a time. 

I love Ty, so I’m like, “I’m gonna put some good time into this. I’m gonna make this really fucking awesome.” Instead of just filling sections in, I’m filling it in with patterns and swirls. I’m like three hours in, and someone comes up behind me and says “excuse me.” I turn around, and it’s Ty Segall. He introduces himself—which he did not need to. He says, “I’m so sorry, but that is from a different band of mine.” [Editor’s note: Anna-Michal was re-creating the album art for the Ty Segall Band’s 2012 album Slaughterhouse; the group performing that night was Fuzz.]

He just kept apologizing: “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” “No problem, dude. I’ll change it into something else.” I ended up turning the face of—it was a skeleton or something—into the face of the fuzz creature, the blue creature on their [2013 self-titled] album. I got it on time-lapse too. So I’ve got little clips of me blushing and talking to Ty Segall while he’s sitting there apologizing to me, and I’m like, “I’m sorry for fucking up your stuff.” And he’s like, “I’m sorry for fucking up your stuff.” That was a pleasant experience.

Not gonna lie—I absolutely take it for granted so often. I think a lot of that is due to the fact that it all kind of happened to me, and it kind of birthed itself. But that being said, I do reach moments of taking a step back and looking at this weird-ass life with this weird-ass job that I have, and things that I would never even have imagined for myself, and it’s really fucking cool. What an opportunity, to get to come into contact with these people that are influencing music, and in one of the biggest music cities in the country. It’s an honor. I’m humbled. I’m all of these things. It’s just cool.

And it’s a huge privilege to be able to do this. Not a lot of people get to walk into work and look forward to fucking up the thing they did the night before so they can make something new. The people that work there are just incredible, and the people that come through . . . nothing but good vibes.

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