Friends are both good and bad.  They are good in that a) we need some, even if it’s only one and b) they support us in our time of need; but they can be bad in that a) we look to them for advice and they are not professionals and b) they may have their own agendas.

The trouble is that, in spite of their advice to us, it may not actually be in our best, long-term (or, even short-term) interest to follow that advice.

Sure I ask for advice but my friends know that, really, all they can offer me is advice and that I will do my own thing, whatever.  If it coincides with their advice then that’s fine, if it doesn’t then that’s fine too, even if, secretly, when/if it all goes pear-shaped, they can gloat that ‘I told you so’.

And, as a friend to others, I can give advice but, if it’s not taken I understand.  In the end, no one can really see inside another’s head and the talk that’s made is only one side and, worse, may not be all of the one side.

And, so, he has talked to his friends.  As a result something that should have happened won’t.  I mean to say, I knew it wouldn’t happen anyway but now it most certainly won’t happen.  And this is because of his friends’ advice.  I know who they are even if I don’t know them, if you see what I mean.  I guess I will meet them soon.

The worst friends are gay friends.  They always think they know best.  But they almost certainly have another agenda – their own agenda which, in my past experience seems to be – we don’t want you to be as happy as us.  This is made worse by the fact that what most of them seek they rarely find and so they remain unhappy – whoever coined the word ‘gay’ for homosexuals was having some sort of laugh!

Everyone of them wants the ‘thing’ but won’t work at it to make it happen.  It just so fucking annoys me.  What the hell do they expect?

I will, when I meet them, be charming and polite and ‘like’ them, even if I don’t.  Of course, perhaps it’s not them……but I’m pretty sure it is.

Last night, after almost a week of spending each night together, we slept in our own homes.  This was good but bad.  I miss him.  I miss being able to snuggle up to him; to wake in the morning and kiss him and hold him.  It seemed to take me ages to get to sleep and I so wanted to be with him.  But, for once, I was strong in the evening too, which is good.

We spoke.  He asked when we would see each other.  I said I didn’t know but not tomorrow (that will be tonight as I post this as, his trip delayed by one day, he is away tonight).  He said he knew that (as it was obvious) – then he said ‘What about Thursday?  We could see each other on Thursday’.  I said OK.  Then he said that he had to be home Thursday to pick up the dog and AfL will be coming on Friday.  He then said that, perhaps, we could go out for a beer or a pizza on Friday as well (you see what I mean about wanting to see me every day?).  I said that we would see, but that yes, that seemed fine.

I am holding back.  I am frightened.

I am pathetic.