An Enjoyable Conversation

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“They are a bad omen”, he said.

“Oh, shit”, I replied, “I did wonder just after I had paid for them but they’re his favourite.  I thought you would know but are you sure?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure”, he said, uncertainly. “But I’m sure it will be fine”.

“I’m going to look on the internet”, I told him.  I needed it not to be true.

We both looked on the internet.

“There!”, I said triumphantly, “it says that they are for your true love”.

“Well, the site I have says that they are for forgiveness”.

“You’re full of shit, you know”, I laughed as I said this.  “Next time I’ll just look on the internet.  If there’s a problem I’ll show him the site I’m on”.

“I’m sure he will love them anyway”, he says.

And he did, which was all that counted.

But, phoning V was full of laughs.  At the end of it all, he doesn’t know everything but it was an enjoyable conversation.

Now we have Christmas and New Year together

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“…then we can spend the night together!”

The voice was hushed and, yet, excited.  Bless him.  Still there is the ‘not running’ thing.  See, that’s what I don’t quite get.  Again, it’s my mild autism coming into play, I guess.  Run!  Don’t Run!  Run!  Don’t Run!

‘Would you like to come to dinner with me and MM [his colleague with whom he goes to Tango lessons on a Monday night] or pick me up after the lesson?’, he asked earlier.

‘I can do both’, I reply – not telling him that every moment I spend out of his presence is a moment too long.

And so, last night, I got home and went almost straight away to pick him up from work.  The plan was that we would go for something to eat, he would go to Tango lessons with MM and then I would drive down about 10.30, pick him up from the lesson and we would go to his house.  I would have taken the dogs out before I left, of course.

The reality was a little different.  First, I went to his office and I quickly tried on a suit jacket – just to see if the standard size fitted me.  It was absolutely perfect!  I am so lucky like that.  He was pleased.  These are samples, made for the buyers.  They come in one size and, very fortunately, it’s my size.  And I mean, so my size it looked like it was tailored just for me.  He said that I could also use his discount as he’s not buying anything this year.  That’s an extra 50% off!

Then, because it was a little early to meet MM, we went for a beer.  We talked about A.  A was funny on Sunday because he felt he should get changed if we were to meet F, which in the end, we didn’t.  I said that F wouldn’t mind and it was fine.  A seemed nervous about meeting F.  F is also nervous about meeting A (and all my other friends).  I explained to F that everyone will love him because he makes me so happy!  This is true, I know.

We went to the restaurant/pizzeria.  MM was already there, on her first beer.  She drinks beer like an English person.  And smokes as much as I do.  I love her already.  We order and, she wants meat but they only do it for 2.  F asks if I will have that and I am pleased to do so.  The meat was perfect.

MM understands English quite well but doesn’t speak it at all.  The conversation is difficult to follow at times but I get most of it.  MM asks if F is going to Austria for Christmas.  He says that no, we are going to R’s birthday dinner and then we shall spend Christmas together.  He turns to me and says ‘Is that OK?’.  I smile and say ‘Of course, that’s OK’.  In my head I am already dancing on the table!

MM says that perhaps we should go to Vienna for New Year.  F thinks this is a good idea and says we could drive there.  It’s his birthday just after New Year.  It would be nice.  I say that this would be lovely but I have to sort out the dogs.  He understands.

We have another beer each at the restaurant and then go outside for a cigarette.  They talk about Tango.  The problem is that F (and MM) will miss the next two weeks.  MM suggests that, as they are supposed to pay this week, it seems quite mad that they are going anyway – missing so many lessons already.

They decide that they won’t go after all.  MM suggests going for a drink.  She lives not far from me.  We walk up towards Via Eustachi.  We go to Bar Aurore on Via Castelmorone.  This is one of the more famous bars in Milan.  Very old fashioned and, to me, it seems almost French in style.

We order beers.  We talk.  Occasionally we go outside for a cigarette.  I try to talk Italian with MM.  F smiles (almost laughs) as I am talking.  I stop and ask why he is laughing at me.  He explains (mainly to MM) that this is the first time he has heard me speak Italian, which is probably true and it’s not wrong just strange to him.

We have several more beers.  I go to the bathroom.  Afterwards, F explains that, whilst I was in the bathroom, MM had exclaimed ‘Why, F, you never told me he was gorgeous!  If he wasn’t gay I would be interested in him!’  I think this pleases him.  I like MM very much (apart from the beer drinking and smoking) – she is lovely.  I think she likes me too.  I think I’m doing OK!

I have to go and walk the dogs.  He says we should walk the dogs together.  I am happy about that, except that, when I rushed out, I left the cleaner doing the ironing and knew there would be ironing left all over the lounge, the bedroom with sheets not changed; I had no idea that he would come over tonight!

I try to explain that the house will be a mess and why it will be so.

We get home.  He loves the dogs although Dino is, as usual with someone new, over excited.  We take them out.  We get back.  We go to bed.  We talk.  I so love having him with me.  I just so love it.

Again he talks about going slowly.  I wonder at what point that will change.  He explains why (again) and I do understand.  But then there are the Christmas and New Year arrangements.  But these all come from him.  I cannot make suggestions (I feel) as I do not know how fast/slow such arrangement-making is!

This morning, I get up early but let him sleep in whilst I take the dogs out.  I go back and make coffee and then have a shower.  I explain how, next time, I will alter the arrangements and have a shower before coffee so that he can get up later.

Dino is over excited as normal.  He really likes Rufus, who is quiet and calm.  But I think he likes Dino also.  Dino will be calmer when he gets used to him.  I must remember to tell him that.

I drive him home.  He says that he can catch a bus.  I tell him that no way and, anyway, this is on my way to work.  He is ready to get out at Piazza Loretto but I say that I will drive him up to his house.  He says that the traffic will be bad for me.  I say it is far to early and it will be fine and point this out as we drive towards his place.  I am right.

I drop him off.  We kiss, briefly before he gets out of the car and blow kisses to each other as he walks to his building.  He says he will call me.

Now we have Christmas and New Year together.

I see him Monday night!

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He says he will show me on Monday. I guess it means that after a weekend ‘apart’ at night, Monday we may (will) be together :-)

Even if I can’t keep doing it, I shall, of course.

Being apart from him is hard. Even as I write this, I can smell him; feel him; want him.

>Need him? Not sure about that. There’s a thing about ‘need’ that is different. Not sure I’m there yet.

Of course, his world is very different from mine. He lives in the ‘fashion’ world. I said the other night that I knew nothing of that ‘world’ – he responded that it was a good thing that I knew nothing about it. Since many gay people here live in that world, I wonder if V is there too and if he is enjoying it. I hope so. I keep meaning to ask him but forget. Just like, yesterday, I forgot to ask if he had quit smoking, given his current health issues.

FfI asked today if F had seen pictures of V. I don’t remember if he has or not. I’m not sure why she asked. To me it’s not that important. F is not V and V is not F. I am with F and not with V, nor will I ever be with V again, in that way. I mean, if F wants to see a picture of V then OK. If not then fine.

Last night was the dinner with the ‘friends’, R and Al. Actually, they were really nice and easy to get on with. We went to a new restaurant and I forgot to pick up the card, so can’t really give you the details. The food was excellent although the service left a little to be desired. Still, starters and mains with 2 bottles of wine between 5 and sweets and the total per head was €30 per head so not so bad. I had a boar stew thing which was really lovely.

Then, AfL, F and I went to a bar for a drink. A friend of AfL’s was there. They chatted in Italian and, to be honest I didn’t get most of it…..sometimes I just switch off. However, F said something to AfL’s friend and I didn’t really understand (and he wouldn’t really explain) – the thing being “I cut your hands”. Those of you who are Italian, perhaps you can explain what it is. We don’t have that in the UK and although I asked F what it meant he just kept repeating it…….but I’m sure it had another meaning.

F asked what I was going to buy in Fox Town (where I go today with A). I said that I might buy a suit as I really need one. F suggested that, if I don’t see one, then I should try his place sometime this month where I will be able to get one at a huge discount. Showroom stock. I’m not sure about this particular designer – never been that keen but, I guess I should have a look. I think it will be classic stuff (for suits anyway) so it might be OK.

We talked about him meeting my friends. He said it would be embarrassing because I will have told them he is gorgeous and handsome and he is not – well, except to me. I suppose he has a point – sort of. Although, I don’t think I’ve actually said that to my friends – but I might have.

Apparently he didn’t say anything to his friends other than ‘I’m seeing this guy’. AfL said that I wasn’t like they expected – but as I don’t know what they expected, it’s difficult to know what that means! She added that I was nothing like S, his previous long-term partner – well, yes, I know that – and I’m certainly not in the fashion industry, nor camp, nor anything like your standard gay man – I guess.

Hopefully we shall be back early enough from Fox Town that we can go for something to eat/a drink with F and AfL – maybe with A as well – that will be the first of my friends, here, that he should meet – although ideally, he should meet Best Mate first, ‘cos she is Best Mate, after all!

AfL also wants us to go to London for a weekend. F said that the company had a flat in the city or near the city we could use. Sounds nice. Also R has his birthday on 24th December and holds a dinner that evening. F said he would be staying in Milan this Christmas and, so we can go. It’s all long(ish) term stuff. It gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling. And I can’t explain, well not in words that really explain, how I feel when I’m with him – how he makes me feel – how happy I am and I’m pretty sure he feels the same – I mean 99% sure.

Anyway, I see him Monday night!

Sardinian restaurant; V update and advice; my wine shop

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Italians, as I have said before and as you would expect, have a thing about food. And, unlike the UK, it’s all very regional – however, I live in Milan and, here, we have restaurants from all over Italy. Last night we went to a Sardinian restaurant (Baia Chia – Vai Bazzini, 37).

It has, mostly fish (I guess because Sardinia is an island) although there are a few meat dishes. However, I decided on grilled Sea Bass for the main course and some raw tuna mixed thing for antipasto – this I shared with F who had chosen some prawn thing.

I have to say it was all delightful. When they came with the Mirto at the end of the meal it was, truly, the best Mirto I’ve had.

Not a big restaurant but well worth a visit – even if it is a little off the beaten track.

F admired the jumper some woman was wearing and said he wanted it…….so, partly as a joke and partly because it’s me….I went over and found out where she had bought it and gave the info to F – he seemed pleased but it may have been just because I had the nerve to ask in the first place :-)

AfL was lovely. F paid for the whole meal which annoyed both of us – but what was done was done…….it just means I have to be better at spotting what he is doing.

We walked part of the way back together and then I left them and went home.

____________________________________________________________________

Earlier, I had texted V to wish him well for Monday when he said he was going to go back to work. He said he wasn’t going back as he had had some results from the tests.

I phoned him. It seems he has a problem with some nerves in his wrist, which is why his arm keeps going numb and they have also found a problem with one of the valves in his heart!

I don’t know whether it’s serious or not. He would probably never tell me. We chatted for a bit, easily with many laughs.

I told him about the problem with the kid. He told me that, perhaps, I shouldn’t be my usual self and should be a bit more like him…..letting the guy down very, very gently. His opinion is that Italian men are about 10 years less mature than British men…..which would make the kid 20! Scary!!

I got him to promise that, in future, he would keep me up to date about his tests and health and joked that I would need to know so that I could come over and put post-it notes on the furniture I wanted!

He won’t keep me up to date, of course. I know him better than that.

_________________________________________________________________________

Later. I go to the wine shop. We are supposed to be going to his friends’ place for the meal tonight. I ask the guy for a really good bottle of dry white and a good bottle of sweet white. He has some expensive wines in the shop. By expensive I mean €60 plus. He points me to one costing €28 and says that is particularly good. More or less the same with the desert wine. It’s why I keep going back. And his choice is almost always perfect.

He tells me that he has some more Macallan 7-year-old whisky (I had bought for a colleague once) and would knock something off the price.

Really, this guy is good. Of course, it’s all in Italian and I don’t understand everything he says but I can rely on him. If you tell him exactly what food you’re going to eat he will pick the wine to accompany it. Love it.

Then F phones to say that we are now going to a restaurant anyway. Well, it’s not as if the wine will go off, so there’ll be another time.

The royal “we”?

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He calls. “Ciao Bambino”, he says.

He tells me that he has had lunch with the potential future landlady and has decided to take the flat. I tell him I am really pleased and hope he is pleased too. He says he is, although there is a hint in his voice that he is not. He signs the contract at the end of November.

“And we will be close to each other”, he says, excitedly, the smile in his voice apparent. Yes, we shall be 10 minutes walk away from each other. I don’t say so, but I think that is 10 minutes walk too far. But, for him, he needs this space. For me it is not necessary.

He is not dog sitting after all. The woman is not going away as her one son is ill. However, AfL is still supposed to be there “Unless she says she is going back to London”, he says. “I will phone you later and tell you where we are going with AfL”, he adds.

Now, in case you have missed the important choice of words, I will spell them out.

Before it has been he and AfL going somewhere and me tagging along. Now it is “us”, the royal “we” that are going somewhere and “we” are taking AfL out!

Of course, I must remember – “LOST IN TRANSLATION” – and, therefore, it may be of no significance, however, it’s nice to think like that, for me.

And this in spite of the post below!

Neck Height and still digging!

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Sooner or later I really should tell F about this blog.  I mean, it’s not good to keep secrets from each other, is it?  And this is a big part of who I am, possibly, probably.  Which makes this post more dangerous than others because, not only is this blog not known to him but neither is this other problem – which wasn’t a problem – until last night!

And I ummmed and ahhhed about this and whether I should post this but, since I had decided this blog would detail all of the ups and downs of life after V, I feel I owe it to you, dear reader, to tell all – well, almost all.

The question is – how to post this without sounding a bad person when really, it’s not because I’m bad, it’s because I am too soft.  And I know that you will have opinions and have advice over this.  Don’t think, for a moment, that I haven’t already been through all this in my head already.  I know what I should do.  I know what is the right thing to do but………

The problem came only last night.  Before that it was controlled and controllable and no problem, since it was only chat and nothing else.  And the problem with last night was that the three magic words were uttered and now I feel a cad – and, yet, it’s really not my fault, even as it is entirely my fault.

I am a bastard but a kind and loving bastard, albeit a bastard all the same.

And so, you need to know the story.  On this one site, where I was meeting some men, there was this kid (and I say kid though he is 30 and at that age I had a company and a new boyfriend (V) and the start of a 20-year relationship).  We had chatted a lot.  Some of it of a sexual nature, him liking certain things that I also like.  But not always about sex, in fact, often not.  You may remember, if you were reading at that time, he had a boyfriend in Spain.  He kept on promising to meet me but never did.  He also has other problems and, being the person I am, I felt that I might be able to help him.  And so we chatted.

Then he came over one night but only because he was in Milan anyway for some friends dinner and we had like 20 minutes.  And then there was F.  And so, with all the other men and the forthcoming arrangements I had made, I sent a standard chat message to say that I couldn’t really see them any more as I had started a relationship.

See, I was being good and not hedging my bets – after all, F was the ‘one’.

Except this one.  I don’t know why (and it’s not that I find him particularly attractive or anything and nor that I thought we had any future (the boyfriend in Spain being a major part of that thinking)) but I felt that I should tell him face-to-face; to break it more gently; not to dismiss him without him seeing that I was sorry it could not be more even if it was destined not to be more in any event.

And so, for a week or so we hardly chatted.  And then, over the last few days, we chatted some more.  The day before yesterday no sex chat as he was feeling really down, then yesterday afternoon, the sex chat as before, which does nothing for me but seems to do quite a lot for him.

And, yes, I know – I should not have replied, or kept it off sex or something – but it’s harmless, right?  I mean, it’s not like we shall meet any time soon, right?  And even if we did I would be strong and make sure that nothing happened, right?

Well…..yes….but……………………

And then, at the end, he wrote those three words.  And I thought: ‘Oh shit’.

It was unexpected.  I couldn’t reply for almost an hour.  I mean, we’ve had chats and seen each other for 20 minutes.  I replied that he didn’t even know me.  He said he knew that.  I was at a loss for words at that point.  I thought: ‘If only I had told him like the others'; ‘If only I had done this or that’.

But I didn’t.  And I thought of those three words and the fact that I had said them to F and that it had made him scared.  I don’t feel scared by having them written to me – only………

Only what?  Only something. I don’t want this guy to be hurt and I know by my failure to tell him the real circumstances originally, when I should have; when I told everyone else, I WILL hurt him.  But I cannot just leave him hanging…….after those words…….

I am a bastard.  And now?  What am I to do about it?  He is young enough to be my son and, kind of, I wanted to help him that way, but this thing is blurred by the fact that this thing was not clear at the beginning, became less clear as time went on and is now so unclear as to leave him in complete darkness.  And to tell him?  With the shit that he is going through anyway?  This will make it worse?

And so, I have dug this hole and I am in it up to my neck and, it seems, I am digging deeper.  I have to find a way out.  Seriously!

You may judge me if you want; you may comment if you want; I will put them through although I may not reply.  I have to sort this thing out – I want to sort this thing out.  I want it to be ‘right’.

To be honest, I have been saying all the way along that he should just move to Spain.  To be with the boyfriend who, apparently, loves him like crazy.  Before those three words were written last night, there was nothing, really.  But now?

I am a stupid bastard.

Oh, yes, and in case you were thinking that this was the problem I mentioned in the post before last….it isn’t.  I am a stupid, seriously fucked-up bastard.

But, it wasn’t meant to be like this.

I am learning but it seems a long lesson

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It was misty.  Not misty so that it made everything wet but a ‘high mist’ that just made the skies particularly grey and half-hid the tall tower blocks, like they had had a thin veil draped over them.  I hate this period – you know it only leads to winter and cold and wet and unpleasant and that you have to go through all that to get to February and March when things get brighter and warmer (and less dark).

The guy was sitting there with a piece of paper, seemingly engrossed with its contents.  I cannot tell you what he looked like nor how old he was.  I sensed he was not Italian and I cannot tell you why.  I was standing next to him, eyes bleary, the contact lenses grating on my eyes, which were watering anyway.  I really should have taken them out on previous nights – it’s not good to leave them in whilst you sleep.

I glanced at the page.  It looked like some sort of poem, almost.  There were 15 lines, I counted them.  And a post-it note on the bottom of the page, the page having been torn out of one of those exercise books.  This page being from one of those commonly used to do graphs.  The writing was capitalised and neat – but, still, Italian, which I find difficult to read anyway – and I was looking over his shoulder; and my eyes were not at their best – so I just counted the lines.  Actually it wasn’t that difficult although it took me a few moments to realise that.  They were grouped in sets of four lines, just like a poem.  The last group only being three and yet, in my half-awake state, I started counting from the top before realising it was four times four less one!  I felt slightly stupid, even if there were good reasons.  I was only on the metro for about 10 minutes but, in that time, he studied the page as if it were some long and difficult thing.  Even with my poor Italian, it would not have taken more than 1 minute to read – and so, why?

I guessed that, either he was learning Italian and knew less than me or that it was just a ploy so as not to look at anyone else.  The ploy I use is to keep my eyes looking at the floor being, as I am, dressed as if I’m going for an evening out; with hair that has obviously not been through a shower or, even, combed; with eyes that still have the traces of sleep and, because of the conjunctivitis (a result of not taking out my lenses in the previous 6 nights away) look like shit, the bags deep enough to put a weeks shopping in them.

Yes, I look like shit.  I am grateful, in some way, that F didn’t really wake up and that, when I kissed him goodbye about 10 minutes earlier, the room was dark and he could not see me.

I wish there was some way of getting home without having to see people – well, there is but to try and find somewhere to park and then drive home and look for somewhere to park again would probably double the time of my journey home – and I am already getting up almost an hour later than I should although F doesn’t realise this.

I decide that I can’t continue this much longer.  I’m just too old for it.  I need more sleep.

_________________________

I had told him that A wanted to go to the outlet on Sunday – for shoes.  He didn’t know where this outlet was.  He said it was dangerous as he spent money.  I thought of V.  And not in a good way.  The difference is that, although we are a couple, I am not responsible for him……yet!  And so there is none of the worry.  But, I wonder: would it be the same?  I’m not sure I could go there again and yet, it seems I attract and am attracted to these type of men.  Boh!

The outlet trip depends on what AfL wants to do and ensuring that we get back on time for the dog.

He asks if I would like to go out tomorrow (that is now today) when AfL arrives – almost certainly they will go out and he wants me to come – if I want to come, that is!  There really is no need to ask.  With or without AfL, I would be there. He will call me.

So, it will be every day that we shall see each other except, maybe, Sunday, when I will go to the outlet with A, whether F and AfL come or not.

I worry about how F and A will get on.  I want to explain to F that, although A can be a bit, shall we say, abrupt, he has a heart of gold and is, really, really, a nice guy.  I want A to like him anyway.  Which he will.  Or, at least, he will say he does; only now is he saying that he hopes F is easier to talk to than V, who he found a little difficult!  Who knew?

We cannot be late back (if F and AfL come) as F is dog sitting, remember?  And so he must be back for the dog.  Who sleeps on the bed – did I mention that?  F will be putting a sheet over the top of the bed to keep the dog from getting ‘dirt’ on the actual bedclothes.

I also have a problem.  I can’t talk about it yet.  I need to sort it out and then, maybe, I can talk about it.  I sometimes think a brain transplant would be an excellent idea!

But, last night was wonderful.  I had missed him so much and yet, I cannot continue like this.  It is wearing me out.  I’m not 30 years old now; it’s not my own business; there are too many difficulties.  It would be much easier if we lived together.

Today F goes to sort out his flat.  I wished him good luck this morning as I left.  This morning he didn’t tell me he was like porcelain.  Perhaps, because, last night, I called him on it, saying I had seen the smirk the other morning.  He grinned and said but he was like porcelain in the morning.  I said that, perhaps, it wasn’t quite true.  We hugged and kissed.

I am learning but it seems a long lesson.

From the first kiss, he was all mine

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From_the_first_kiss_he_was_all_mine

Well, here goes.  The meeting of the important people.

We spoke several times, on the phone, yesterday.

A came over and we went for a pizza at Time Out 2 in Via Eustachi.  A liked the pizzas and I was very pleased about that.  After all, he’s Italian and I really get so nervous about recommending anywhere to Italians.  The pizzas are cheap and, it being A, we ended up with one and a half pizzas each.  And a bottle of wine.  A said that he shouldn’t be drinking at all and was going to have just a glass of wine but they don’t do wine by the glass and he didn’t want the house wine (and I don’t really blame him as it’s not that good) so chose a bottle of wine – and then, instead of having a glass, had half the bottle.  I’m really a bad influence!

He’s going through a bit of a tough time at the moment.  We talked crap and about him and his F, about me and my F and so on.  It was a nice evening and, ever since that time when he was unexpectedly so supportive, I really have a lot of time for him.  In fact, here, in Italy, I would say he’s my best friend.  He doesn’t get along with everybody but that’s OK, my best friends aren’t your usual people – they suit me and that’s all that counts.

I rang F after I had taken the dogs for a walk but he was in the restaurant.  He phoned me back when he had finished and then phoned me again when he got back to his hotel.

We talked about Thursday.  He hopes to be back by about 8.  I will probably go over about 9.30, if that’s the case.  We shall see.

Then he asked that, if I had no plans for Saturday, we had been invited to go out with his ‘friends’ – the ones from the last post – and AfL.  Apparently they ‘really want to meet me’.  I bet they do!  I said, of course, that would be fine.  I joked that they would be wanting to ‘check me out'; ‘to see if I was good enough for their F’.

He got a little defensive but he knows it’s true.  It’s true of all friends, not just them.  My friends want to do the same.  They are intrigued by how someone can be so important in such a short time.  They want to see if the attraction is valid; see if they can detect the feelings are genuine.  I understand.

So, Saturday night will be important.  I said that I would be on my best behaviour, which I will.  I must select the right things to wear and be able to come up with good conversation.  I will use V’s technique – be interested in them and get them to talk about themselves – it works a treat.

I am so looking forward to tonight.  This will be our last night together until at least early next week.

A is still amazed by how I went about all this.  How I was so selective and treating it like a purchase or selection of something else.  That’s true except that, when it came down to it, F doesn’t have all the things I would have chosen; is not the perfect person, perhaps, but it just felt (and still feels), so right at the time.  From the first kiss onwards and ATN.

Yeah, from the first kiss, he was all mine!

Pathetic

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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.