Tuesday, 3 February 2009

Scarey

I’m beginning to miss International badly. I feel very lonely; knowing he is out there living while I am left with nothing but to drift on an endless ocean of sex and parties. But then whose fault is that, eh?

I think of the times we shared and I am happy… I think of the times we won’t share and it makes me sad. So then Frumpella is human after all (don’t tell anyone, gentle reader; it can be our secret).

I think of the way he just placidly accepted our break-up, and did not argue with me one jot, and I am sometimes very angry. Yet I want to tell him how much I appreciated our time together and how much they meant to me.

Perhaps wallowing in self-pity is not the best way forward. However, I did once explain to my counsellor – ex counsellor now, finally having lost patience - that every time I met a guy and became infatuated and it didn’t work out for whatever reason it was like falling off a cliff. Except that cliff gets higher and higher with each passing guy until, one day, the cliff will be so high and I shall fall so far that…

Yes I wonder sometimes if I want to carry on with this looking for Mr Right lark. He didn’t turn up on demand which is frankly not what I signed up for. Instant gratification has always, as you might have noticed, been a significant motivating factor for me.

Or perhaps this particular fecund spell of man-flesh is my attempt to distract myself from the emotional side of my Odysseus-like journey home to gayness. I’m still jealous when I see gay couples out and about. I still want that… what they have.

What’s scary about it is that, though I’m stronger than I was, the thought of being fundamentally unlovable is quite an abyss to look into.

I currently worry more than usual I might never find it. It might never, ever happen. And that’s a fact I have to live with. Over the years I pretended I didn’t want it, thus it was all fine. Now I no longer have self-denial as my comfort and shield I have sometimes grappled with the thought that no-one will ever want to be with me because I’m dull and frumpy and missed the bit in school where other people got told how to fall in love and be happy.

The mild distraction of this guy or that is, for all the fun I have, not really enough to cover it all but at the moment thoughts of dating again find me ambivalent. So I know I’ve done nothing but blog about sex recently but bear with me please until normal service from the Cheerful Fairy is restored.

I know I have it within myself to make all the changes I need to; I do know it. So much jolly luck to picking myself up and dusting myself off and once more into the breach, dear friends…

3 comments:

Antony said...

Sounds like you need some chocolate ice cream and a night in watching chick flicks (where the girls always end up with Mr. Right).

Antony x

Monty said...

I feel your pain. That was me for 18 months after I came out! You WILL find Mr Right!

Mike said...

Actually a decent wine and a good film sounds ideal right now... but if I'm going to be anything like as great as Monty is now I need to get back out there!!