Chris broke up with me. I am trying not to talk about it too much, under the possibility that maybe I will move on without realizing it.
I went to Boston to see B this past weekend.
On Saturday night, we went to a bar. We found a booth for six people. B sat down with his roommate Amy and her friend Nora. We were supposed to join his roommate Tabitha and some of her friends. I went to the restroom and came back. The booth was completely full, plus two chairs. I had to stand because B didn’t save me a seat. I was upset and angry. It was trivial, but because I was already worried about making it work, the feelings were magnified. I felt hurt and embarrassed.
I don’t know if he lost his job after being in the hospital at length, but he might have, which I find unfortunate.
He wanted to have sex, which could have been great except that he wanted to switch up– ahem– positions. He’s also never had sex before, which, though I’m hardly an expert, I know what I want. It was awkward but we managed to make things work in other ways.
It seems a shame that it probably won’t work out over the long term because he’s sort of adrift and a bit fragile, and also somewhat unsure of himself and what he wants. Also it would have made an awesome love story, three years in the making. I’m not shutting down anything before it starts, but it seems important for me to keep my wits about me.
Sometimes it is hard to remain optimistic.
Some of the guys on Manhunt don’t tend to like effeminate men, which often means that I butch it up when I go over to their places. T-shirt, cargo shorts, running shoes. No bow ties. Lots of “dude.”
Other guys like to feel like they’re getting a catch of a younger guy. I put on a tank top, a dangly necklace, short shorts and my Lolita sunglasses.
Still others enjoy me for who I am– V-neck, fake intellectual glasses, embroidered critter shorts, boat shoes– and I talk about my research.
For me, it’s a bit like burlesque. I’m whoever you want me to be.
I’m leaving on a jet plane (well, really a bus) to New York this morning at 7:30 to arrive in Manhattan by 11:45.
Yes, for a boy. We’ll see how things go, but I’m hopeful (and keeping my fingers crossed).
I always feel so shallow for wanting to date a guy who is photogenic; I am not very photogenic myself, it often takes me several photos and a liberal helping of Photoshop to get my pictures looking halfway decent. Mostly I just want a guy who looks good with me, not necessarily on his own.
My kingdom for an adorable boyfriend.
Sometimes I should stop Googling guys and/or reading their blogs and Tumblrs before I e-mail them. I don’t want to accidentally bring up stuff about them that I know but that they don’t know that I know.
Not that this has happened, thank goodness, but I very nearly sent an e-mail to a guy from OkCupid in which I referred to his friends and a party that he attended recently. I’m weird.
I got a Facebook invitation from one of Chris’s friends inviting me to one of her poetry readings. I might go, but only because I want for her to tell him about me. That’s pretty transparent, I think.
I haven’t written him an e-mail yet. I have a hard time of thinking what to say. I miss him pretty terribly, though I know logically that if he were still interested in me that he would also e-mail me. It is difficult to remember the things that I didn’t like about him– such as the really abrasive feet and wanting lots of kids and so forth– when I am lonely. All I can think about is how he treated me well and called me “Lovely.” Okay, maybe I will e-mail him. Well. We’ll see.
Although my friends typically have my best interests at heart, they don’t always know what action is best for me to take.
As you’ll remember, Chris broke things off with me a few months ago because he said that he still had some barriers that prevented him from getting involved with me at the time, mostly involving his unresolved feelings about his previous relationship. He asked me to stay in touch and I didn’t. In my defense, neither did he. This decision felt virtuous and wise at the time, but now (admittedly, in the light of trying and failing to find a guy with whom I’m similarly compatible and who likes me too) I’m not so sure.
I’ve got a letter to write. We’ll see whether or not I decide to send it later. In part I will allude to having fallen out of touch, but mostly I will say that I felt like writing him a few times but decided against it because (1) I wanted to give him his space and (2) thanks to the introduction of doubt on behalf of my friends, I worried– faintly and very occasionally– that he was not so interested in me any more, and opted to utilize some (perhaps legitimate) feelings as leverage to get out of our entanglement.
I miss him and the feelings he inspired in me.