me and aaron just broke up four days ago. I'm good, I'm fine. we both knew it was bound to happen at some point. To say we didn't know that this was gonna happen is the same to saying that Mars was never a planet.
next to bed, I'd still watch him whilst asleep. the idea of moving out hasn't exactly kicked in yet, i still have a lot of important things to think about. Like what i'm going to do next year before i start studying by twenty fourteen. should I apply as a flight attendant? a travel agent? have two jobs and pay off my debt? a year runs by quick, and this time, i'm making sure that not one day is going to be wasted. no more days spending more than four hours watching other guys jack off, no more days like these, i need to get my shit sorted.
have i told you i don't own any furniture? no bed, but sheets. no fridge, but a chopping board and a whole set of knives, and a table piece without any table. fucking ridiculous, isn't it?
a very good friend of mine just confessed how he felt about me after a drunken night together, we're still not talking like we did ever since. slightly confused but overly optimistic. maybe one day you'll hear our love story; one, repressed, and another, unrequited.
luckily, they took me in to work for at the local art gallery a couple of blocks from where I live right now about a month ago. they're helping me anchor myself to what i want to do with my life. it's good. to find something that could hold you in to where you need to be. my moving to Melbourne hasn't exactly pulled through like originally planned, but i guess that's good.
mum's been happy with my decision ever since i told her that. "I'll be staying here for the next four years, maybe you can help me out with the rent once I start studying?"
my inability to make friends outside of work has gone worst. i'm just too busy & slightly resonating the nature of a sexually frustrated megalomaniac. i know.
when i was lying down next to aaron after having the "we're-breaking-up-'cause-we-only-fuck-once-a-month-now talk," i've told him what my fear was. that the more i got to know myself over the years, the more i question if there's even anybody out there whose willing to put up with this?
the idea of being one of those snobby rich gay guys who hires brazilian men for sex and has twelve cats doesn't look too bad anymore. hopefully the anxiety of being alone will pass, like most things in our lives.
i guess we would never learn what would happen until we just throw ourselves in there and hope for the best it works out. it always does though.
i'm sure i'll be fine.