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Monday, 31 March 2014

Anxiety attack

I stayed late to attend the forum event thing about fluidity in gender and sexual orientation. I knew she'd be there, for one, but I was genuinely interested. I even submitted a question anonymously. I submitted the only question available through the anonymous submission website and I thought it was a good one: which gender pronoun should you use on a non-gender-conforming person when you're not sure how they identify? Answer: Neutral (them/they) until you know better. 

I didn't say it was my question, though. I waited patiently a full hour before the event started close to the room it was scheduled to take place in. I played 2048 (my new favourite way to kill time). When it was only five minutes to the start, I made my way in. I saw the room was dark and could sort of see people gathered in a corner, but they were few and I didn't feel comfortable with them so I sat outside and waited for more people to come in. I hadn't sat down for 30 seconds when one of the officers asked if I was there for the event, I lied and said there was no one there, he opened the door for me, I said "Oh, there are people here..." and proceeded to choose a seat not too far, not too close to the board of panellists but certainly far from the people chatting. 

I didn't feel like I belonged, so I played 2048 and quietly waited for the forum to begin... which it didn't, for at least a half hour. I could hear her talking. I heard her mention she'd learned a little Russian and swooned a little at the thought of it. I reprimanded myself for eavesdropping and went back to playing. I felt stupid for not joining in their conversation and stupider for showing up to an event with no one I could talk to. I sat nervously through the whole thing and occasionally tried to make eye contact through any of my (hopefully not very noticeable) glances. I failed. In fact, when it was the turn of the panellists nearest her to speak, she sat down and looked something up on her phone, holding it straight in front of her face. I can't help but feel even more certain than before she was avoiding me. It's just too much of a coincidence otherwise, wouldn't you agree? And, though I did come up with silly best case scenarios in my head where maybe she was just shy and just as nervous as I was and actually into me and trying to hide it for whatever reason, I know better: she's strong and confident and absolutely lovely and she wouldn't hide like that if she liked me. 

It's far more likely I'm making her uncomfortable and why can't I fucking stop?  Why wouldn't my heart quiet down after almost three hours of fast-paced beating? I know the nervous tick of people moving their feet and the building being made of cardboard didn't help, but I should have been able to enjoy myself and pay attention and I couldn't: I was too worried holding back the flight response. Why can't I stop liking her? Why must I glance her way and be nervous and have my heart racing a full hour before I even saw her just because I knew she'd be there? Why did I run away as soon as the forum was over, weak at the knees and eager to just be alone and free to cuss at myself for liking her? PRIDE meetings are the one place I feel safe and happy and smiley and I can't fucking rest easy because she's there and everything goes into overdrive. 

Between that and feeling less than stellar about the blokes that attend the tango lessons I'm starting to worry that by trying to fix myself I'm making things worse: I'm avoiding being at the house by being on campus early and staying late, skipping meals as necessary to subsist on as little money as possible while I save to buy the bloody air conditioner I haven't the guts to bring up in conversation. I make myself interact with people so I have an escape and the anxiety wants me to escape from my escape, which leaves me having nowhere to go. I keep repeating to myself "I just want to go home and sleep. I just want to go home and rest."

And that's without bringing up the episode where uncle A went behind my back and talked cousin S and girlfriend into telling me that of course there are jobs here and why would I lie to them and where are the people who told them otherwise? Unless I wanted to go, but I don't want to go, do I? That exact behaviour is the very reason I have to leave! I will not be treated like a liar and an complete imbecile incapable of making my own decisions, getting a job and making a living! I will not depend on them if I can afford not to and I'll make damned sure I can afford not to as soon as possible! If that means looking for a job far away from here, guess what I'm doing? I'm leaving! As soon as I can, I'm getting out. I don't owe them any more of my sanity or mental health. If I face hardship after that, it's on me and I'll deal with that as necessary: I won't let them put me down or control me. I had enough of that too soon after getting here. 

I just want to go. I want to go home and sleep. I just want to go home and rest. But I don't have a home. Not of my own, not even my parents'. I want a place I can call home, where I can sleep and rest and have no one bother me. 

Thursday, 27 March 2014

What is it like to fancy someone only a little, I wonder?

I wonder what it's like for other people. I wonder what it's like to have small, fleeting feelings of attraction for people and not get too involved or committed to them. I wonder what it's like to go into asking someone out not really caring all that much about the outcome, talking to someone who makes you smile just looking at them and not thinking of how you wouldn't mind lying in bed staring into their eyes lovingly. I wonder what it's like to not re-visit every word and every detail of every interaction and analysing them to exhaustion. I wonder what it's like to not go into liking someone head first, completely plunging into obsession and investing yourself so much that any little thing can mean eternal doom if it doesn't work out.

*sigh* Long day today. I stayed extra-late to the PRIDE meeting, where I met a few more people, and because I wanted to see her. You know who. Her. She was wearing a bow tie and a smile (which she always does and only adds to the general tingly feelings) and looked gorgeous. I discovered she claps her hands loudly when she finds something very funny and added it to the list of things I like about her. She's also very huggy with her close friends and she's adorable

She was one of the panellists talking about coming out at work and in life in general. She recommended a book I can't. actually. remember. and mentioned she'd read it during her freshman year and it had helped her a lot. 

So she's into girls. Good. 

Talking about work, she mentioned that "when she was in a relationship," her boss would ask about her partner. 

So she's single. Plus good. 

She's also had strangers hit on her and ask her out and tell her she's cute (she must know she's cute). Which tells me she probably knows when people are into her. 


And probably knows I like her. 

I'm starting to worry.

I don't know if she was deliberately avoiding eye contact with me because it was so hard to see her at all during today's meeting. She was always straight in front of a lot of people before me so that I couldn't just bend a bit to the side and catch sight of her. 

I thought I'd try talking to her about the event I talked myself into attending tomorrow, but I couldn't bring myself to go out to her and interrupt her conversation with other people, so I stood awkwardly for a while looking in another direction until nice people called out to me and invited me to sit next to them and talk to them. And so I didn't really get to talk to her, even though she was the whole reason I was there and insisted on finding a way to be at the after-social event after fucking up and showing up to the bowling alley even though they were going elsewhere. It required contacting what few people I could remember the names of and sending them messages through facebook, trying not too feel too bad about myself or sound too desperate, hoping someone would tell me where they all were. Where she was. I just wanted to see her. 

But I only got to talk to her towards the very end, when they were about to close the place we were at. And because she's awesome and lovely she was helping clean up so that the tea place people wouldn't have so much work left. And I awkwardly tried to talk to her, under the pretence of a short question, even though she was already on her way out and there was no way I would get to talk to her. She was very to the point and I started feeling stupid so I just cut her short, asked a different question, forgot about the other things I had considered talking about and then left. After saying goodbye to everyone but her. Because she was turned back when I said goodbye and I felt weird walking to her and she didn't say goodbye to me personally and I was already starting to feel shitty about feeling a little bit rejected. And that's what I feel. Rejected. I think she knows I have a crush on her and she's just not interested. She mentioned not being on her way home but to hang out with some girl and I actually felt jealous. It may mean nothing but I started making connections in my  head: not only is she not interested in me, she's interested in someone else. It's fair enough, it's just awful to realise because I have a crush on her. And it's a big crush that grew exponentially for no apparent reason. It's awful because I had made up my mind to attend a religious event for no reason other than to try and see her. And I'm going. Oh, I'm going. I'm just going to be extra-awkward because there's only two or three more people from PRIDE going. None of which I've been introduced to. Besides her. But she's not... into... me...


This whole having-a-crush-on-someone thing is just too much. I was supposed to work on the project and e-mail the girl who promised to teach me Chinese and has no clue what she's doing in the project. I told the maths professor I wanted to do a presentation about the Basilica group and I made an idiot of myself saying I was not approaching it via automata (which appears to be the only way to do so). I also agreed to be in the office at 8am for an experiment. And then we have a group meeting at 10am. And at 6:30pm I said I'd attend a shabbat. A shabbat. Because she said she'd be there. *sigh*

I would write about some of the people I met today, like the person who introduced himself by saying "Hi, you're perfect and I love you." He took the words right out from behind my mouth, where all the things I'm thinking but can't bring myself to say out loud stay hidden. I love him too. He's also perfect. He introduced me to his best friend. She was very sweet. I was invited to sit next to three people who were very nice and tried to make small talk but I couldn't quite follow so I just mostly pretended to laugh at what sounded like jokes and smiled a lot. But to write more in-depth opinions about them could be considered a breach on their privacy (I don't suppose you could find her by the information I've given so far, though maybe you could... I just don't want to say less-than-nice things about strangers, is what I mean). And I was too busy thinking of her. Oh, and that's without bringing up the short episode from yesterday afternoon where I chatted with ON for a little while, as he graded some papers (he was sort of begging to be talked to when he started audibly saying he hated grading papers and generally inviting conversation). When I said I would just let him go back to working he said I'd brought him back to life. In just about so many words. Cheesy. And uncomfortable. But I couldn't bang my head against the desk without him hearing me. 

And maybe that's exactly how she feels about me. How horrible!

Oh, and there's also Pf2 being very sweet. And the girl I talked to quite a bit last Thursday, who was supposed to have rung me tonight so I'd have her phone number, except the call never got through and I didn't have my phone with me when she called because I was running out of battery and didn't think to bring the charger with me and... I need to get some work done. And sleep. And decide what I'm wearing tomorrow to the shabbat (I'm assuming jeans would be inappropriate). Even though it's as stupid as it was to wear primer and try to look good today. I want to look good for the dinner thing. I don't know why the fuck I bother. I feel defeated.

On to academics then. I'm sorry about how depressing and rambly this post is.

[night after edit:]
Tonight was the shabbat. I put on pretty make up this morning, which of course left no traces by the time 6:30pm rolled around, but you could maybe tell I had at least tried. I wore girly clothes this time, a skirt and tights. I parked right outside the place a good 15+min before time and waited as I messaged A through facebook, sharing my anxieties. Just as I got out of the car I recognised a familiar and friendly face from PRIDE. He kept me company all throughout the night and I love him for it. I wanted to hug him towards the end but I fear I may have fucked up somewhere there too.

He's socially awkward like me but a bit more outgoing. Outgoing enough that he wanted to go say hello to her. She didn't notice him or his first 3-4 attempts to get noticed and say hello. When we were finally "introduced" into her tiny circle of young students, I didn't have to actively fight my instinct to blush very long because she didn't spend more than 5min before leaving to say hello to other people and then we never really saw her again. Even though by the time we sat down for dinner we sat next to some of her friends, and as the rest of her friends arrived at the table they motioned her to sit with us, she sat at another table. With her back to us. I'm positive she was avoiding us. Avoiding me. I feel so tiny right now. It's like I almost feel sorry I like her and cause her such an inconvenience that she has to give up on being with some of her friends to avoid being around me. How do I make it less awkward for her? I won't come out and tell her anything (though I sometimes daydream of coming out with it and saying it out loud, just for the record). She's not even the reason I attend pride meetings (only the reason I am so eager to attend sometimes). I was planning on joining as an ally and then I met her. I just happen to have a crush on her. I don't think I'm too open about it and I don't think I make it that evident, but she truly seems to be avoiding me and I just don't know what to do. 

I feel so tiny right now.

You know, what really bothers me is that I feel so welcome in the PRIDE club. I do. People are so nice. And she's about the only person who makes me feel unwelcome or unwanted. She's about the only person who doesn't take to me as "Hey, newcomer, let me show you around!". Granted, she was kind of cut and dry during the drag show too. Maybe it's just her shyness? Or that self-defence mechanism I made wild assumptions about? Nah, I'm just trying to get my hopes up now and that will help no one. *sigh*

Monday, 24 March 2014

Common misconceptions

Oh, dear, it's late. Didn't think I'd be up this late writing this but this is what it's come to. Want to know what I've spent far too much of my time today doing? Revamping my facebook profile. Why? Because I now know a girl, who I stupidly want to impress via a facebook profile she can't/likely won't visit. Why? Because I like the way she smiles, her firm handshake and the way she puts her sunglasses on backwards around her neck, one lens inside the collar of her shirt to keep them in place. Even though I don't know her all that well, I know enough to know I like her a lot because just thinking about her makes me smile. And that's exactly the thing I want to write about. Not her, no. I don't want to seem (too) crazy, writing all that much about her based on so little interaction. I will at least wait until Wednesday, after I (maybe) discuss this in the group. 

I want to write about sexual orientation, gender identity and common misconceptions about people who aren't straight or cisgender. More often than not made by people who are straight and cisgender, but not necessarily. Some of these common misconceptions are at least a little bit dumb. And some of them have been made, in particular, by yours truly. A little dumb, however, doesn’t mean they are hopeless or impossible to correct. What’s college if not a learning experience? Bring on the education!

In no particular order…

Misconception #1
Bisexual people are equally attracted to both men and women.
No. If you have found yourself attracted to some men and some women, without any regards to what percentage of each, you can choose to label yourself as bisexual.

Misconception #2
LGBT+ people are all militant/predatory and out to convert straights.
I suppose there may exist such people. But it's every bit as stupid as it is to say "You just haven't met the right man/woman" when trying to convince someone of trying heterosexuality (which is even stupider when trying to imply you're that man/woman). LGBT+ people aren't more "out to sleep with everyone in the set of people they are attracted to" than straight men are out to sleep with all women, or straight women with all men. Hint: they aren’t.

Misconception #3
Being a minority, LGBT+ people are beggars and can't be choosers. If you know two of them, you must get them together.
No. Just no. No one likes blind dates, for one. But also, it's kind of silly. The dating pool may very well be smaller but no one ever needs to settle when it comes to romantic relationships. If you've been settling all this time that's your problem, don't force it onto others.

Misconception #4
Being bisexual means you have the biggest dating pool… and may therefore want to sleep with everyone.
You see, the thing about sexual attraction is that everyone has a set of characteristics they find attractive in a prospective significant other. If you are straight, it means it can take you forever to find someone you feel just right about and can be attracted to. If you are not straight, it means exactly the same thing. Being bisexual (or, more broadly, pansexual) doesn't mean you want to have sex with everything that moves and see everyone as a potential partner. It just means you have more places to look for one. As in, more haystacks to find a needle in.

Misconception #5
Pansexual people are trying to make a political statement. No one can be attracted to just about anyone.
I suppose you don't need to have been attracted to every gender identity under the sun to label yourself as pansexual. That may or may not be why "queer" is often [citation needed] added as a suffix to it. You can't make a political statement by having green eyes. It's no easier to make a political statement with your sexual preferences.

Misconception #6
Your gender identity defines your sexual orientation.
No. They are two separate things. One is who you are most comfortable being, the other is who you might fall in love with. You should not assume a butch woman is a lesbian, a flamboyant androgynous person is gay, or a cisgender alpha-male man is straight. If you will, your gender identity is where you are standing and your sexual orientation is determined by the set of directions you tend to look in.

Misconception #7
Gay men know fashion/Broadway musicals/skincare/whatever.
You will embarrass yourself quite badly. Don't mistake a gay man who is your friend for the stereotypical "gay best friend." Those are not nearly as common as Hollywood (who abuses character types) would have you believe. Even if they know Hairspray and attended an event looking for cute guys, they won't necessarily know about the difference between a pair of Louboutins and a pair of Manolos, nor will they appreciate the fact that you think they would.

Misconception #8
Trans men and women look like drag kings and drag queens, respectively.
I'm not sure this is the right way to phrase it. What I'm saying is that there are such things as trans men who look like butch lesbians, trans women who look like gay men, trans women who look like boys in girls' clothes and trans men who look like pokémon nerds sporting a ponytail. My point is that they look like regular people and don’t necessarily use tons of make-up. You may mistake their gender, though, so just keep your gender pronouns neutral (them, they, person) until you know better. Bear in mind that asking respectfully is okay. And take a hint when they introduce themselves by their preferred name if it's an evidently gendered name.

Misconception #9
All people have a gender.
I'm having trouble figuring out how pronouns and adjectives work in other languages for people who prefer neutral pronouns, but it's a thing: some people don't fit in the male, female, trans male or trans female boxes. Those people will make you realize there are so many more boxes than you thought and that discreteness does not accommodate gender identity or sexuality very well. You will have trouble remembering how to refer to them and you will be inclined to follow your gut instinct when it tries to scream their birth genders at you. You can still be a nice person and acknowledge that it is not how they identify and that's not them your brain thinks it's seeing. 

Misconception #10
If you are cisgender anything, people don't have to ask you which pronouns you prefer.
No. See above. But also, consider that just like straight people never need to come out (but could, in a sympathetic gesture) and don't need to clarify when their girl/boyfriend is just a friend and not a romantic partner (but can choose to call them partners to stay neutral) it is only fair to be asked. It is not meant to question your identity or imply you’re not cis. It is just to say "This is who I am. Who are you?"

Misconception #11
Asexual people are not trying hard enough to have sex. We were wired to have sex by evolution. And science or somesuch. Obviously, something must also be the matter with you if you have sex n times a week where n is greater/lesser than some arbitrary number.
Do you go about asking people how often they have sex or they would like to have sex? Is it any of your business? What would you say to being told you are on the "wrong" side (any) of some ideal mean number of times per week? Would it change how you perceived yourself? Would you force yourself to have more or less sex? If you are in the mood, you are in the mood. If you are not in the mood, you are not in the mood. There's really not much more to it. 

Misconception #12
If you are polyamorous, you don't really love your partner and it's the same as openly cheating with their approval.
No. If you love more than one person, guess what it means? It means you love more than one person. There's no implied meaning explaining how much you love each of them and there is no right way to love anyone you are in a relationship with as long as they love you back and you don't hurt one another. 

Misconception #13
Lesbian women are either masculine in appearance and nature, or just like the stars of those girl-on-girl videos you've heard about in them internets.
Nope. The fact that terms like femme and butch exist doesn’t mean they cover the whole spectrum of people who identify as lesbian. Have you heard of Portia de Rossi, Ellen DeGeneres, Wanda Sykes, Ellen Page, Hannah Hart? I rest my case. 

Misconception #14
Bisexual people are just transitioning between straight and gay.
Being bisexual means you can be attracted to different genders. Having a long term partner of one gender doesn't make you more straight or gay than having a long term partner of whichever gender makes you "straight" deletes your interest for other people of your preferred gender. I.e. Just because you are happily married and celebrating your 20th anniversary being married to John doesn't mean you stopped finding other men and/or women attractive. It just means you are committed to John. 

Misconception #15
Same-sex couples are always divided into someone more masculine and someone more feminine.
I get it. Just because straight couples consist of a man with a woman, who must by default be the "manly" and "womanly" parts of the couple, respectively, it must be the same for everyone else, no? Except some men are not that masculine and some women are not so feminine and it's just fine. Stay at home dads are a thing. So are women in high positions with lots of power and influence. It's not about appearances either. A couple is sort of defined by two people in a romantic relationship who care for one another. Nothing more is required. Nothing about matching or complimentary sets in particular. 

Misconception #16
You can only be an ally if you're straight.
Even though you don't have the same experiences or challenges as someone else because you are different, if you're willing to stand by them an support them no matter what, you may call yourself their ally. That being said, sometimes there's a distinction made specifically for straight allies and they fall under an SA in the full initialism for LGBT+. 

Misconception #17
Saying “You don’t know if they’re gay” when gossip reaches your ears about someone or “You’re so good with children in spite of being a trans woman” is a good way to be supportive.
It’s not. The underlying premise in both statements is that you think being noncisgender or nonstraight are somehow a problem. The right answer here is "Being gay or trans or pansexual or asexual or anything else is not bad and should therefore not be used as an insult, nor should is it some kind of exceptional clause to someone’s good nature." That's you being a good ally. 

Misconception #18
I'm straight and cisgender. This is not my cause and I should not do anything to help support the cause of others.
I have a question for you: do you believe we are all equal and should be given equal opportunities? Why should you stop at agreeing with me? If you don't do anything at all for causes that are not your own we'll never have true equality because, unfortunately, such changes require support from the larger portions of society in the form of both accepting people who are different and helping throw down every law, preacher and politician who think otherwise. Inequality means that people who need it the most don't have a strong voice and will not be listened to if someone else doesn't step up to help. If no one does, apathy will win and nothing will ever change. 

Misconception #19
You can't both be LGBT+ and religious. 
It’s hard to believe everything written in any of the holy books and be at peace with being LGBT+, I'll give you that much. But most religions preach love for everyone, no matter what. If the belief in a higher being makes your life better, then so be it. Don't let anyone tell you that they hate you in the name of that higher being who was already making your life better. Believe it or not, there are people out there who manage to both be religious and themselves without issue. If you want to, you can be one of them.

Misconception #20
Identifying with any of the letters in LGBT+ makes you knowledgeable about all the others.
Ha-ha. No. A random woman doesn’t know about being polyamorous based on her experiences being a lesbian. Why would she? Don't tell anyone I said so, but most people don't know the full string of letters that go after LGBT. And that's fine, as long as you're open to learn about them. 

Sunday, 23 March 2014

Oh, it's exactly the same

Oh, the social awkwardness!!

In case you had time to think I couldn't possibly be serious about my last post, this one is all about this girl (I'll need a name, but I'll need a good one, which will have to wait) and how she makes me giggly. And how I feel stupid about it (being giggly like a schoolgirl and having not a fucking clue how to transform "being giggly" into "flirting" or in anyway getting it across to her that I like her). 

So, she's not my facebook friend. No one in the LGBT group is. But I may have kind of sort of looked her up. Nothing much to be seen, except for a very fun profile picture. However, I've been admitted into the group. And I could see when the pictures from the drag show were posted. 10 or so minutes later, I noticed she'd liked the album, and I liked it too. I was a bit giddily excited about the fact that on a Saturday night circa 10pm we were both on facebook. And I somehow felt close to her. And then, not 10 min ago she posted a video to the group. It's a video I'd sort of seen circulating facebook before, of homophobes hugging gay people. And seeing that she posted the video kind of made me squee a little bit and swoon. I guess I find her advocacy exciting. In the girl who's my facebook friend and posts such things on a regular basis, it's cool. Because of her I know people like Kazaky and see inspiring videos and posts like the one I just described. And I look up to her and think good things of her and like to agree with her, but there's more to it with the girl I have a crush on. Her political stance, kind of like LesMisGuy's, is somehow sexy to me. Except LesMisGuy wasn't all that cool with LGBT people, so that's a few points against him. Not the point. I'm officially giggling and swooning and kind of obsessing over this girl I've known for all of two or three days. And I want to get close to her and have absolutely not a clue how. And all I can think of doing is stalking her every visible move on the facebook group and liking everything she likes and liking everything she posts and that's so stalkerish of me and... *sigh*

The social. awkwardness!!! It hurts!

Saturday, 22 March 2014

So, I guess I'm bisexual

I'm not sure how other people deal with this kind of realisation but I've completely missed out on the drama that some people seem to find attached to non-heteronormative sexual orientations. It was more "huh, so I guess I'm into girls too." It doesn't make me question who I am nor any of my past or future choices. It doesn't scare me or in any way surprise me or upset me. It was not in any way a dramatic or climactic epiphany. It was just this realisation that I was attracted to someone (for the first time in quite a while, too) and that this someone was not cisgender male. Which is to say that, to the best of my knowledge, I'm attracted to a girl.

And there is a girl. She seems shy, but lots of fun once she lets loose, smart, strong but vulnerable, and she's masculine but a bit petite and absolutely adorable in her toughness. I have a bit of a crush on her and all I managed to do was ask her name again and introduce myself again even though she's the one who wrote down my e-mail address and I already knew her name. I needed an excuse to talk to her and was inordinately excited when she sat next to me at the table but I couldn't find a way to make conversation with her and soon after our re-introduction I was having conversations with everyone but her around me, and she started a conversation with someone-other-than-me. I don't even know if she likes girls. I don't know if she likes girls like me. All I know is I like her and feel attracted to her and after thinking about it quite a bit I absolutely can see myself kissing her and being intimate with her which sort of just proves a point I made earlier: I'm also into girls.

Only some girls. And it's true that I appear to lean towards the masculine side of the gender spectrum, but if I only like some girls the way I only like some guys I reckon the right label is "bisexual." And I like at least one girl. I like this girl. 

Now, she's as screwed as any bloke would be if anything happens between us, because I'm just as inexperienced and possibly immature as I've always been, but she stands to gain everything that was ever available from me: a promise of monogamy, caring, nurturing, selflessness and general "I want you to be happy"-ness that goes into high gear whenever I'm into someone.

On other news, gender pronouns will be the death of me until I get to know everyone well. Also, I find myself wanting to be liked by everyone in the LGBT group just like I want dogs and cats and animals in general to like me. I'm in no way comparing them to animals, but rather the way I relate to them is similar because all I want to get across in both cases is "I like you! I want to be your friend and I want you to like me!" So, basically, I want to be a Disney princess. I did find some of the more "out there" people were a bit more reserved around me. I wish it weren't so but I can absolutely see that as a defence mechanism and I won't judge them for it nor feel personally targeted. I do understand I'm the new stranger in the group and that, until proven otherwise, strangers and their judgements can be a tiny bit dangerous. I also fear that sometimes my kind of irrational love for all things LGBT comes across as being a little condescending or at least somewhat awkward and it may not sit well with everyone, so I've restrained from saying anything of the sort. I don't pity them. I love them for being different and being who they are and loving who they love. I love them the way some people fear and hate them. I realise it's a kind of prejudice but I won't let anything bad come of it because that's just not the kind of prejudice it is. I wish I could talk to someone about all this and get it all sorted out. What is the politically correct way to be as into it as I am?


Oh well. The announcement has been made. I had no problem telling mum about the drag show and my sister actually agreed it sounded like a lot of fun (which it was), though I maybe left out the bit about the burlesque performers for prudeness' sake. I'm not sure things will go anywhere that I'd need to make announcements, but I feel as uncomfortable telling people I have a girlfriend as I was telling people I had a boyfriend. So, it's not about her gender and rather about my stupid social awkwardness/shyness/private nature. We'll see how it goes. I wouldn't be upset to see things going that far at all, but I'll point out that by now I'm already engaging in a lot of wishful thinking.

Thursday, 20 March 2014

Of animals and injuries

I've had a few odd dreams lately. I was on a frozen river with cousin S. The water was very dark, a navy kind of colour, and the top was frozen but after we slid through the first part of it we just fell in the water. This was somehow connected to a hotel's pool, which had warm water. However, just a few moments after getting in I noticed dead animals in it. First, a turtle, then an opossum and a lemur. Cousin S was unfazed. I just couldn't wait to get out of the water. I reasoned that the dead animals were there looking for warmth and the pool had somehow killed them. All I knew for sure was that I didn't want to be in dead animal water.

Also in my dreams last night, there was this dream where Gigi was doing a giveaway for fabulous rhinestone studded heels. I was participating, I think and I somehow ended up on the phone with her. However, I sustained some kind of injury in this time. I gently touched my hair, to the right side of my face, and a whole bunch of it came out, all roots attached, actually, a whole rectangle of scalp attached. A rudimentary fix was attempted with gum or some other soft material to patch the hole up but the skin from the torn scalp was like putty and nothing held. I don't remember any pain, but I do remember worrying and Gigi being a love and helping me through the whole thing, if only by talking to me throughout. I can't remember if it was this dream or another where I lost one of my molars. It was the bottom one farthest on the left and it was hollowed out, without a root, much like milk teeth. Odd.

Night before last, I had a dream where I was with quite a few women from the family, including mum and my sister. We seemed to be at a riverside, or maybe, rather, a small brook. Most notably, I remember the floor everywhere was covered in animal faeces. Dog here, rat/rabbit there, just everywhere. You could not step without stepping on shit and it boiled down to "would I rather step on little too's shit than any other animal's as I at least sort of know her?" as mum told me I could just wash my feet afterwards. 

Wednesday, 19 March 2014

Gender bending awesomeness

That was the most fun I've had in ages!!!

I had a test today at 5:15. Instead of ending at 8, I was done around 6:30. Since tango practice wouldn't start until 8:15, I figured I'd find a place to sit and wait. Except the place I chose to sit and wait advertised a drag show starting at 7:30 and I was not going to pass that opportunity. I figured that if it ended early enough I could still try to do tango afterwards but it wasn't over until after 10 (and I left at 10:20, before it was over). It was my first drag show, I must say, and I loved it.

I felt a bit awkward at first, I won't lie. I didn't know anyone, I sat alone, several seats away from the nearest people, I didn't know what to do with myself while the show (which started a good 20min late) started... I didn't even know what to expect, other than people dressed in unusual clothes. Well, let me tell you: they had four amateurs (not really drag anything, but they tried and I'll give at least two and a  half of them credit for trying properly) and two professionals, a drag king and a drag queen. Oh, and two burlesque performers. Those last two had a thing or two to learn from Dita Von Teese, though, so I won't be bringing them up. The drag queen is a love but a bit of a newbie, and you could tell because of the way she wore her wigs a bit too far down her forehead. And how she lost track of her shoe after tossing it. And how "on a dime" her wigs and outfits looked. It didn't matter. It doesn't matter. I loved her and I told her as much before I left, taking advantage of the fact that she was sitting a couple of seats to my left at that point. Share the love, right?

The drag king? He was the star of the show. I loved him. Loved him. Made me realise more than I ever had. I don't know if it's gone down in words earlier but, until today, I never ruled out falling for a girl, I just thought it was unlikely. Today, I'll say this much: I would absolutely fall for a tomboyish/butch girl, I could fall for a trans man and I can definitely fall for a drag king. He was charming. And quite sexy, I'll add. Just like I'm attracted to Raven, I'm attracted to him. Open up the dating pool!* Sorry, lousy joke. He was seriously amazing, though. What a way to be introduced to the drag (real) world. 

Oh, as for the performances? I'll just leave you a few of the songs to my favourites. 

At this point, I should point out, people in the audience just got up and started doing the time warp. I didn't actually join them (though I'll say I was tempted to, and if I had to do it again I would have), but I'll say I actually wooted, which I don't think I ever have before. What did I woot at?

Now, I hate the lyrics of this song and everything they stand for. But the drag king did his first performance to this, and I have a bit of a crush on him. So I don't care. The drag queen also danced to this song. It was also her first performance, if I'm not mistaken, but my favourite by her was

(Sorry that's the live performance, I can't be bothered to find an official version that's not this one.) During this song the drag queen had so much fun interacting with the audience, it was a blast. 

Lastly, I talked to the girl organising the event and asked how I could get involved. I may be attending a meeting tomorrow to meet more of the people doing this. It should be interesting, albeit a bit nerve-wrecking.

The person I want to talk to the most, though, is SmTn. He answered my message of Billy Joel with a smile and this:

I'm deliberately choosing not to overthink it here because I already have. And I'm too happy from the drag show to worry about such things right now. So there.

* I suppose there are people such as will be a bit surprised, to say the least, by how offhandedly I made that admission. The truth is that if I'm attracted to something other than a cis-gendered male (as has been the case up until now, for the most part) I will just take it as something more to like and not as something to raise questions about my sexuality or identity. I'm open minded like that. To me, it's not unlike trying sushi for the first time and deciding I like it. I may like it better than other things, I may only like it as much as other foods. Either way, it brings more choices when the time comes to choose something to eat and that's always a good thing in my book. 

Tuesday, 18 March 2014

Sins, part two

I just did something stupid. I knew it was stupid before I did it. I even asked EBF to tell me it was stupid (which may have been a fairly stupid idea in the first place... EBF! of all people! A few lines of text and he disappeared... why am I shocked?).

I texted SmTn the link to "For The Longest Time." I've had it stuck in my head all day yesterday and today. I've known for a few hours now I'd be sending it to SmTn because I couldn't resist the urge. I knew it was stupid. I thought maybe EBF might try to persuade me not to but he stopped after saying it was stupid. Not that I was hoping he'd stop me, but I guess I at least wanted to talk about it. And I didn't get to, so I'm writing about it.

Stupid as it was, the question to ask is: why couldn't I resist the urge to contact SmTn? Besides the fact that I had a dream about him recently and can't get him out of my head, besides the fact that I miss him and miss talking to him, besides the fact that he was a very good friend and I normally would have sent him the song just to say I had it stuck in my head. I could have helped myself in spite of all that. I could have helped myself in spite of knowing he lives with his girlfriend. Happily. And I have no place in his life. And I was strong enough once to be the bigger person and should manage to stand by that. Never mind that he's contacted me. Never mind having or not having alcohol as an excuse. Never mind stupid hopes and dreams and nonsense. Do you want to know what the problem is? I'm all out of romance and I apparently can't live without it. 

The closest I've been to anything even remotely romantic was the guy from tango rubbing his leg against mine and not-at-all-smoothly asking if he'd done the new step correctly (actually insinuating "was I okay with him rubbing his leg against mine?" if I am good at reading such things and I do think I'm fairly good). The closest I've been to romance is a horny idiot with no sense of personal space boundaries or when to give the fuck up. He's disgusting and I feel defaced and I want SmTn, so bad

I guess it's bad enough that, for all I know, SmTn could have been not so unlike this idiot, just drawn to my looks and looking for some strange. I don't know! All I know is that he wasn't quite like that for the two and a half years we were friends and I adore him and I miss him and, would you believe it? I sent him the fucking message with the song. And I don't even regret it. I can find excuses for it, even if SmTn writes back and tells me never to contact him ever again and is actually mean to me. Not even then. 

Monday, 17 March 2014

I'm sorry. I hate myself a little right now. You may be excused, you don't have to read this.

Forgive me, blog, for I have sinned: I have facebook stalked SmTn. I may or may not have an exam tomorrow. I didn't sleep very well last night because working in groups is just awful in that goodness forsaken university. In case there is an exam tomorrow, I bothered downloading the documents I should read to study. But, of course, I didn't read them. I played hashi. I didn't even play hashi properly. I toggled between checking numerous websites for updates (there were none) and playing hashi. And then I opened facebook and thought to type SmTn's name and... I clicked on it. I realised there were pictures of him visible now that were not visible when we first became facebook friends. Namely, pictures of him and the girlfriend. I'm not sure it's a coincidence they're all of a sudden visible... Then again, maybe I'm trying to make sense of that which makes none. I attempted to make sense of the comments on the pictures. I gawked at him and played "find SmTn" in the pictures where he wasn't obviously visible. However, I said I had sinned and facebook-stalking SmTn is not enough to constitute a proper sin. Not when I didn't do it for so long, at any rate. I think... The true sin was staring at the girlfriend and judging her, based on absolutely nothing. I had fuck all to go on, and I judged her looks. It's so low of me. I'm actually a little embarrassed. But I did it: I saw her and thought "she looks so old in that picture," "her make-up choices were not ideal there," and even *gasp* "I'm prettier than her, aren't I?" And that, right there, is the lowest of the low things one can think when comparing oneself to the girlfriend of the man you have feelings for. Don't question me. It doesn't matter if it's true or not, because that's not the fucking point. The point is that she's the bloody girlfriend and I'm the friend who was kept a secret for two and a half years and lives halfway across the world and what's a bloke to do? What's a gal to do in such a predicament? And why must it be that often enough that I can't focus on anything for five minutes straight, I remember that disgusting rubbing of thighs and just want to dig a hole and hide in it?

Sunday, 16 March 2014

And then again...

It's not every day I have a sex dream. It's not every day I have two sex dreams. It's not every day those are about SmTn. 

So, If that first short set of lines was not enough warning, mind the labels.

If his absence in the last few (or not so few) posts is any indication (hint: it isn't), SmTn has not quite left my thoughts. I still think of him a lot. My feelings for him are still where I left them the last time I brought them up, I don't feel as warm and fuzzy inside when I think of him. If anything, as time goes by, I'm more and more tempted to think of myself as his whore and little more than that. I'm ever more... disappointed in him, if you will.

I may have been reading advice given to people who've considered cheating on their significant other with someone they were infatuated with over a vacation period and the chorus agrees: they're scumbags who had one foot out the door if they even considered talking about their feelings for someone else. I can't bring myself to think so lowly of SmTn, but I'll agree it's not fair on anyone and it's a shitty situation all in all. Truth is, I still think only nice things about him. I still care about him. I still think of him. And, if you read carefully, I still have dreams about him.

The dreams I had took place this morning, just before I woke up. I actually woke up from one and still managed to go into the other instead of waking up. They were basically the same thing (well, maybe they weren't but I can't remember distinctions now so I suppose now they are). To be honest, I now only seem to remember one of them. That's what happens when I procrastinate so long.

The dream I remember, then, though I know it was only one of two, has SmTn and I kissing. Sweet, slow and passionate kissing. The kind of kissing that's only foreplay. For sex. We were about to have sex and it was clear to both of us. It was also the first time, as I remember it, because I remember asking him if he liked it when I kissed his shoulder. I also remember what it felt like to kiss him, and what his kisses tasted like (though I, of course, have no reference for it). On to actual details of the dream itself, I'm afraid I can't give you many. I know I was on top of him, and I know we were naked and in the middle of foreplay. I remember teasing him and kissing the inner part of his thighs. I don't remember any actual thrusting, but it could be that we didn't get around to it before I woke up for good. 

Ok, you know what's really starting to get to me? I'm trying to channel the feeling of being with SmTn and trying hard to remember the other dream about him but all I can think of is the guy from tango rubbing his leg against mine. Blegh! Damn him!

Wednesday, 12 March 2014

Blue Jasmine

In case you couldn't guess from the title, I just watched the film Blue Jasmine and it prompted me to write. More precisely, it broke me down and I have no outlet for it other than to write and I have no one to write to, so I'll just write.

I could see the other tales being told there, but I was affected by the story of a mentally ill woman whose medication and attempts at making life better fail. SPOILER ALERT. Sorry. I broke down. It could be just anxiety. Or hypochondria. I don't know if one can fuel the other. I don't know if I'm deliberately making myself even more ill (some form of opposite to a placebo effect). All I know is a growing suspicion that I cannot be fixed is creeping up on me. I sometimes fear I tell the psychiatrist it's quite all right because I don't want her to be worried. And she's the one person who has to worry. She's the only person who can worry. There's no group meeting this week. And even if there were, I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to bring myself to talk about this.

My problem in group meetings is that I don't like to take attention to myself. I don't like to ask for help with my problems when others have problems of their own that also require help. It's bad. I should know. It means I've given up all hope for myself.

I've had a couple of heartbreaking conversations with mum. Conversations where she tells me to find out what the admissions process is like for actually good universities. No, not just good universities, the best ones. She thinks I'm good enough for them and encourages me to try and apply for a scholarship. A scholarship. It breaks my heart to tell her they won't give my application so much as a long glance. There's no way they'll give me a scholarship. Mum is trying to encourage me to dream a dream of my own and the truth is that I have none. 

I can actually tell you why I can't stop playing hashi. I feel that those are problems I can solve and those are problems I get some form of gratification for solving. My real problems? Well, they've led me to exercise control over my life by solving hashi puzzles. 

Tuesday, 11 March 2014

The things I haven't been writing

It's about time. I'm already late as is, and I probably won't be able to write everything I should but you will know, if you've read previous posts, that I've been feeling off and even writing blog posts seems like too big a task to take on.


Where to begin...?

Let's see, I haven't written anything in a week. Which means I left out last Wednesday (no tango practice session but major fail by the biostatistics professor), Thursday (... I have no memory of Thursday... or Friday, for that matter), and Saturday through Monday. Here's hoping I can catch us up a little.

I can't remember any of my dreams from those days and I'm afraid my catching up will heavily rely on what I told A and EBF (yes, EBF) about those days. But we'll make room for commentary because I've had thoughts brewing in my head for some time now that could probably use an outlet.

Saturday afternoon and night were spent in a barbecue hosted by the president of the tango club. I talked myself into going because... well, I might as well try to socialise and I couldn't keep the fear of being ambushed by a drunk college boy be a problem. He did drink too much, as I anticipated. However, he was not stupid enough to try anything which means he gets some credit for the restraint (though I reckon he may have switched targets) and I get credit for sending clear enough signals. I suppose. I don't know. You'd think I was bored, staying there for all of six or seven hours, hardly talking to people, not really dancing and doing little other than observing everything from the comfortable sofa in the corner, but I actually enjoyed myself. 

Oh dear, I've gone ahead and left this alone for over an hour instead of writing to play hashi and look up nonexistent updates in the usual websites...

As I was saying, I actually enjoyed myself. The less-than-keen eye would have just seen me bored and not doing much but, as I mentioned above, I was carefully watching everything that went on around me and meditating. I could see the truly bored people. I could see Mr. Tall having had too much to drink, trying to sleep it off, stupidly fighting dehydration by wetting his lips in the kitchen sink and drinking coffee to counter the effects of alcohol (kids, don't do this: fight alcohol with lots of water, not depressants with stimulants). I could see the dancing, both amateur and enthusiastic, naturally good and actually quite talented. I saw the music. I know it sounds a bit trite to bring up synesthesia like that but there were numerous musical instruments (mostly percussion) that quite a few people played around with and tried to match to the background music, which meant you could actually see the music playing and see people's musicality (or lack thereof). 

Sorry again, that was a few hours' worth of not writing. I don't know what's wrong with me.

What I was saying is that I liked it. Just like you could see music, you could also see youth. It was present in the way they burned the sausages, and maybe weren't the best cooks, and even did something dangerous trying to cut through corn with a knife. It was staring me in the face when I used the guest's restroom and it was so dirty I found myself not only aiming into the bowl (no way I was sitting on that), I was aiming for the crusty filth at water level, hoping to make the restroom at least marginally cleaner. Youth was in the way the fabulous gay friend was introduced, in the willingness to learn new dances and teach them, in the free spirits that danced to the feeling behind a song in an unfamiliar language. You could see freedom and freedom of thought and all those vague ideals so commonly associated with college students that, at some point when they become proper grown ups, seems to disappear. It was hard to believe these were people who would one day have to file taxes, make mortgage payments, pick up their kids from school and argue about politics and what they see on the news the way older people do. When I saw them, they were the future, or everything I hope the future is full of. I didn't see nurses, doctors, engineers, lawyers or any other kinds of professionals. I saw young dancers and musicians, childish and free. I realise now I'm starting (starting?!) to sound like an old woman. And a cliché one at that. I am sorry for that, it's not my intention. I only meant to capture the long moment I chose over laying on the bed at night, worried about having made a noise when my water bottle fell off the bed which would be interpreted by aunt A like a burglar. 

Sunday... Sunday... Sunday cousin S and I worked on the car and then I was stuck at a family reunion. Then yesterday was rather uneventful, except for the chance I got to watch Mr. Peabody and Sherman, a wonderful children's film which almost seems to be in favour of gay marriage and the adoption of children by gay couples. Though maybe I was reading too much into it.

Oh, and this morning I had a dream about school1. One of the queen bees was getting married and had included wedding invitations in the last page of what I assume were our yearbooks. I'd seen her horribly bully and harass a young man and was so disgusted at her I sneakily tore the lilac page with frilly flowers off of her book and hid it in mine. This event soon caused an uproar and a huge fight between the girls. NtP was oddly in my dream and gave me a call when he heard that I'd been the one responsible to congratulate me. I was a little afraid he'd tell others about it. I don't know how close I actually was but I remember standing up for this young man being harassed, sandwiched in between huge foam mattresses and being stood upside down by the girl's boyfriend(?) at her orders. Another girl and I stood up for him. I think it's particularly cruel that this young man was willingly being subjected to this torture because he fancied her. I still thought they should be more humane about it. I remember being proud of standing up when no one else besides the other girl would in a bus full of people. I can't say I was particularly proud of my vandalism, but I was quite pleased for the ridiculous uproar it had caused when all I did was tear a page out of a book. 

I suppose I'm missing a few things. I'm missing a more detailed recount of Friday night stuck at BCM's and watching The Truman Show. I'm missing "The class that should have been," a post about everything my professor should have said and didn't, or how I would have taught that lesson. I'm missing a post about mum's hopes and dreams. I'm missing a huge post about justice and fairness and associated fallacies. I'm afraid I can't do them justice, so I'll just leave this stub here for now. So long.

Tuesday, 4 March 2014

The dead are dead. Pretending they're not only makes it uncomfortable.

This may be a different form of procrastination. I've put off writing this post since Sunday. And I'm pretty sure there was more to talk about then but right now I sort of only care to write about the one thing: EBF and I talked. More than ten lines' worth of dialogue, too. I've been putting it off both because I'm still in no mood to write and because writing this post will require me going over the conversation, which I feel I may still be too weak to do without crying. And crying at 11:30 the day before a biostatistics test I have not at all prepared for, the day I decided to cook myself some onigiri, the day I spent 80% of playing hashi, the day Pf2 asked for data I had not been able to retrieve both for lack of trying hard enough and frank incompetence. I'm still not able to get the data. I stopped playing around with the code when I broke (maybe) the system on a MATLAB loop. Well, it's unlikely I broke it, the whole thing was iffy even before I fucked up, freaking out whenever I typed too fast and I'm quite sure closing down MATLAB should have solved the problem. At any rate, I still haven't done it and I feel awful for lying to Pf2. And for not studying and doing bare minimum in everything. I guess it's both good and bad that I can get away with it. Be that as it may, I bought myself lunch today, a rare luxury, as well as some ramen cups, chocolates, vitamins mum recommended and a little bit of wasabi sauce for the onigiri.

It's worth noting at this point that I actually, for the first time in a very long time, felt like cooking. If I lived by myself I would have baked myself a mint chocolate cake, but I suppose mint chocolate will still exist when I manage to live by myself. *sigh*

It's also worth noting I started writing about how I'm going to write about talking with EBF and I've put that aside by writing about other things.

I guess I should give him credit for actually talking to me before the week was completely over. I'd sort of made up my mind to send him a message quoting his promise to have time to talk in a week by Thursday if he failed to keep it. He technically did, since he made the promise on a Thursday and Sunday is well past a week after that, but he said "next week" and the week doesn't end until Sunday, so there's that too. Technicalities aside, on to the actual talking. 

I take issue with the way he talked. He started with an excuse "I said I'd have time, I didn't. I'm so busy" and then gave me a news report of his life in the last year or so. Which, if you've tried talking to news reporter when they're on television, makes it impossible to hold an actual conversation. So, when my time to ask questions came, I asked him how he chose what to tell me (i.e. why a report when what I pointed out was that we hadn't had a proper conversation since forever?) and then opted for asking about films or books he'd seen or read lately. There were none. When I tried to talk about the problem that was really bothering me he started making excuses. "Would it kill you to say 'hi' every once in a while?" "It's hard talking to you because I don't log onto Skype very often." "We haven't had conversations because all we talked about were art, literature and cinema and he hadn't had time for either lately." It angered me. I visit facebook often enough that I would have seen his messages, if not immediately, within a few hours. Skype is not that hard to log on to. It fucking kills me to say hello when every conversation dies, yes. The conversations have been dead a lot longer than the span of this starting year when he claims he's been the busiest. Why wouldn't he have told me about any of the shit going on in  his life any earlier? Why the fuck didn't he asked the more important questions to find out about my life?

I told him I quite frankly would be spared a great deal of trouble if he completely forgot my birthday, New Year's and Christmas (the only occasions, if at all, when he sort of bothers keeping in touch). He said "no way." And I see where he's coming from but he didn't quite seem to understand me. I'd much rather let go altogether, you know. And yet I have half a mind to leave him a message (he promised he'd read anything I sent, even if it took him days to get back to me) telling him the things I've told no one. Damned Pavlovian response. Damn it. 

Sunday, 2 March 2014

An engagement

I had a very odd dream last night where R1 and I had sort of gotten engaged. The actual arrangement was that if come a certain time (I think it was if I turned 28) and I had no one else, I'd be married to him. For all practical purposes, though, I considered myself married to him already. I'd happily agreed to it, too. R1 was very proper about the whole thing and made contracts for me to sign. This is important, because later on I met M1 and he asked about my engagement. First, he asked what I had felt like on the day I got married, which was when I explained to him that I wasn't actually married just yet. He then started asking all these questions about whether or not there was a physical contract (beyond the verbal agreement) and I went out on a quest to find them. 

Elsewhere in a different dream, or perhaps in the same one, I was sort of being hazed by N1 and L1 on the way to the hairdresser's. I was exhausted from all the running and jumping and whatever else it is I had to do to get there after they put crazy obstacles in my way. 

Then there's another dream where I was watching things unfold much like on a television show or a film. There was a couple I was rooting for and it's exactly the couple that worked out. However, others around me were rooting for a different pairing and were upset. I was just happy that the one I was shipping for worked out.

For the last week or so, I've had this song stuck in my head:

Saturday, 1 March 2014

The void

So, er... I owed you a story about social awkwardness. I'm still not in the mood to write about anything but I had better write a bit before things go without being written. I don't like the idea of that silence or what it would mean.

The story. On to the story. It's not so much a story, it's rather just a re-telling of how awkward it was on Sunday dancing with him again. Right off the bat, before the explanations were even over and actually as soon as the mention of "finding partners" was first brought up, he was already giving me Joey (from Friends) eyebrows from across the circle. Quite insistently, I might add. Slightly uncomfortable, you know, looking away from him and at the girl in the middle of the circle still explaining a few last things and having him right behind her very insinuatingly raising his eyebrows. While we danced he mentioned having seen me close to where my office is. I pretended not to have noticed him then but I guess I felt caught so I just said "I think I remember seeing you, that's close to where my office is." He was a bit taken aback when he realised that made me a graduate student. The dancing itself was a lot less gropey than before but I could feel his lips brushing against my forehead a few times and it made me uneasy. Then, using the lack of partners for the intermediate class, he invited me (against the others' wishes, from what I could tell) to join the dancing I intended to just observe. I think the absolute worst moment that night was when he raised his arms and stood still for me to practice my giro around him. When he did so it revealed quite a bit of hair going up to his belly. 

By the time I left he'd already decided to sit down and play on his phone. It may well be the case that I was not completely stoic and he caught on to me and felt (rightly) offended/self-conscious. He didn't go to the practice session on Wednesday night. I guess that what bothers me the most in this whole exchange is that, while very much against the idea of getting involved with him, my lady parts seemed to respond to his advances, heavy breathing and sweating from (unnecessarily and pointlessly) trying to do pull-ups. I think it actually adds to the disgust. 

I do realise that last sentence could very well mean I have issues with sex. I don't think I'll go into those now.

On another note, it's Friday. And I haven't heard from EBF. Not that I would. But I just thought I'd bring up the fact that I had a dream about talking with him and meeting with him or agreeing to and fearing he wouldn't keep his word. Because before I talked to him in dreams the way I can't in real life, and now even in dreams I'm afraid he won't keep his promises. 

Speaking of promises, I'm honestly still a little upset about the whole living situation. I'll elaborate. For one, there's the expenses I shouldn't be making but are not being covered because of broken promises. Then, there's the fact that I didn't get a birthday cake, or a birthday song being sung and that it all felt rather... bland. I swear the psychiatrist's realisation that my birthday had just gone by and her congratulations conveyed quite a bit more excitement than what I've seen from everyone here combined. Whatever I'm doing, the question keeps popping into my head: "Don't you just want to go home?" And then Pf2 really drives the point home. I asked him if he had time for me to ask for some advice regarding a project. As soon as he had time he came around with a "So, you said there was something you wanted to talk about?" and was all ears, as if he were saying "You asked for my time, you have my attention." Except in a very friendly way. I'm not sure this is coming across exactly the way I intend it to but, again, he was quite the father figure and I don't suppose he'll ever know how thankful I am. 

Also speaking of promises, this time a sort-of-unspoken one, that L-word. Love.

I have completely failed to document it, and it was really quite sudden. I can't explain it, but I'm not thinking of SmTn all that much. It's odd because I'll still whisper his name and speak it in my mind but more so out of habit than endearment as it used to be. I've even surprised myself calling out LesMisGuy's name instead of his. To be honest, I don't even miss talking to him all that much anymore. It's the strangest feeling, really. There's not so much left as the ability to dream, daydream, fantasise or even make a wish about SmTn. It feels as though I'd realised somehow that I had not a very small, infinitesimally small even, chance of being with him: I have absolutely no chance at all. It's as if all the alternate universes that I saw in my visions where we can be together suddenly collapsed out of existence. Worse still, I can almost sense that the feeling is mutual and that he's forgotten his feelings for me and now lives his ordinary, happy life as it was with his girlfriend. And instead of feeling sad, I feel nothing at all. I wonder if it's the medication at work but I think that's not it, given I still feel sad about other things. It could be nothing at all, and should have no great consequence but consider the fact that SmTn was my mantra and the thing I thought of when I wanted to conjure up happy thoughts. The happy thoughts are gone. The endearment is gone. The smiles that so naturally appeared on my lips at the faintest hint of him being seen by the corner of my mind's eye are gone. There's absolutely nothing left there, as if he'd never been there at all to begin with, and it all happened over the course of a couple of days. Literally. 

I don't know what to make of this. I wish I had someone to talk to about it. 

Speaking of promises, I think that paragraph about SmTn may sort of explain why I'll have to put off writing about love for quite some time. At least until I can go back to feeling something because SmTn is the last person I had feelings for and I feel too empty to write anything that can do such a strong word and concept any justice. I promise I'll write about it. I just don't know when.