Closing the Case

You have to pack.

Not so much urgently; but you just know that it's time. It's time to pack-up.

The morning sun spills in through the grand windows and onto the freshly made bedspread. You take your red suitcase off the Hotel room floor and hoist it onto the bed. You realise mid-flight that it's unzipped; so the flap on the front of it bounces a little as you bring it down clumsily onto the mattress, knocking a few clothes out onto the duvet.

You try to pack up all of your things into it, gathering any extra items from strewn locations around the room. Once you pack the last of everything in, you can't seem to close it. 

You repack, taking the top layer of stuff out, this time a little more frantically, and place them back in again. 

Still won't close.

You unpack again, taking every last thing out and laying it on the bed - this time you notice two small picture frames holding pictures of you and Jake lying at the bottom of the case. You take them out.

When you re-pack everything fits perfectly, which is just as well, because it is definitely time for you to check-out.

You lift the suitcase; now significantly lighter, place it on the floor and wheel it out to the door.

You glance back momentarily at the room. Taking it in one last time - after being here so long, its hard to believe you aren't coming back. You feel a hum of nervous hopeful excitement

You take a deep breath and you leave, glancing at the at the silver chrome numbers on the door as you close it.

"21"

-------------------

SO most of the time when I have a dream this weird I look up what it means (circa my old blog when I had that dream about Ben). Some people mock this kind of thing, but I normally find it rings true for me especially when they are this vivid. Anyway here's what THIS dream apparently meant....

Hotel 
To see a hotel in your dream signifies a new state of mind or a shift in personal identity. You are undergoing some sort of transition and need to move away from your old habits and old way of thinking. You need to temporarily escape from your daily life.

Red 
Red is an indication of raw energy, force, vigor, intense passion, aggression, power, courage, impulsiveness and passion. The color red has deep emotional and spiritual connotations. Consider the phrase "seeing red" to denote anger. Alternatively, the color red in your dream indicates a lack of energy. You are feeling tired or lethargic.

Suitcase 
To see a suitcase in your dream indicates that you are a very composed, together person. You keep your attitudes and behavior in check.

Packing 
To dream that you are packing signifies big changes ahead for you. You are putting past issues to rest or past relationships behind you. Alternatively, it represents the burdens that you carry.
To dream that you are packing, unpacking and packing and unpacking again represents chaos in your life. You are feeling overwhelmed with the various things you are juggling in your life. You are carrying around too many burdens and need to let go. Consider what unfinished business you have to tend to. Try to resolve these issues so they can finally be put to rest.

Twenty-One 
The number twenty-one represents a turning point in your life and your full transition into adulthood. It is also associated with the responsibilities that you need to own up to.

Source- www.dreammoods.com

I don't know why but I feel like this is great news?!

The definitions certainly sum up how I felt when I woke up this morning! I feel like I'm just starting a new, more mature chapter.
I felt like the past few months I've been feeling a pressure to pull my life together, (much like packing in the hotel room). Before the break-up I was desperately trying to make my life work, with Jake in it. Even though he was taking up so much of my 'space' I persisted in rejumbling my life around him - which kept causing me more frustration.

It wasn't until I took him out that I feel like I finally have room for everything else and now my 'case' feels so much easier to carry around. On some level I think I've realised that not only was it what I wanted, but it is what I needed to continue to develop.

What's weird is that after this dream I feel so much more ...balanced? (cue the gong)

It's refreshing!

I also had a dream where I was in a coffee shop trying to give my number to the girl who worked there but when I'd finish writing; it would be unreadable.

Apparently this meant I need to catch up with my old friends to help me feel more grounded in my current situation... So I've decided that on Sunday I'm heading back to my hometown for some TLC from my mates! :)

Let's face it; my unconscious seems to be more clued in on what I need than I am?!


Sam

(I promise the next one will be less cryptic ;)

Ending Understanding

SO this is how the story goes...

I feel like during the time that I've been writing the two blogs I have proven time and time again that I am a drastic over-thinker. Sometimes to the detriment of my emotional wellbeing!

I think I should start this by saying that the relationship I've had with Jake over the past 18 months has been, by far the best and most healthy relationship I've ever had. Certainly for the first 13 of them I can wholeheartedly say that it has brought me into a healthy headspace.

It's allowed me to share myself with my family and having someone who can support me during the madness of the music progress at the moment has been wonderful. I've learned to let down the wall and seen the benefit of having a 'boyfriend', sharing your intimate moments with someone (which probably why i didn't need the blog as much). I love it.

Loved it.

Jake has ALWAYS been a busy guy. Between running the SCUBA club at uni and Medical School and the long distance relationship (in Feb we lived 7 hours apart on the coach!) slotting his life together was like playing a game of Tetris.

The problem was Jake is the kind of person that cannot multitask and when something is on his mind it is IMPOSSIBLE for him to focus on ANYTHING else. Which meant our Skype conversations, which eventually decreased until we were speaking for 5 mins each day (which again was fine) but during which he would be emailing, answering calls. He just couldn't give the time.

But I understood.

By March it was unbearable, he was irritable, even innocent suggestions like; 

'Why don't you go for a walk for a bit to refresh your head' 

met with snappy responses like 

'Whatever... I haven't got time'.

Mid March I snapped.

"You need to find a way to better handle your stress! Your way doesn't work. If things don't change I don't think I will be able to take this anymore."

He apologised. He changed his behaviour for a week or two. Still short Skype conversations but at least undivided attention.

but by week 3, a fortnight before his dissertation was due to be handed in, it had gone back to how it was.

But I understood.

His stress was building. I offered to leave him alone a few days so he could just have his own headspace (and give me some freedom from the firing line) but he declined. He didn't say but deep down I knew he needed a sounding board. Otherwise he'd break down.

April I moved to Birmingham. 2 hours away. Made time to go and see him for a few days, a lot of waiting around while he had dive meetings and so on, but we had fun.

But even AFTER the dissertation was finished he booked up all his free time with dive club and scheduled two days to come and see me smack bang in the middle. The first time he had made time to come up to see me since January.

Of course he had to bring work with him. But he was so wrapped up in it he was one word answering me to any questions I had about what he was doing or how he was feeling and to top it all over seven days had passed since he last asked me how I was (I had been counting).

We had sex, but not like normal. Before it would be intimate, but this kind of felt like 'stress-sex'. He would only stop typing on the laptop long enough to let off some 'steam' and within seconds of it being over would get his phone out and check what emails he had missed in the brief moments he had been 'off the clock'.

But I understood.

I suggested going out to eat to get him away from the laptop and he reluctantly agreed, taking his registration forms for the divers out with him "incase they ring so I can tick them off". But even when sat outside the pub in the sun, he couldn't relax. He didn't ask me how I was and secretly I think it was because he was scared of what I might say. Either that or he was genuinely oblivious to how I felt. Which is much worse.

We went to eat and we talked a little, again about his work and my family logistics (my parents are going through divorce). After finishing the meal he turned to me and looked at my t-shirt. It's white and has the phrase "BLAH BLAH BLAH I'm just here for the ride" written across an image of a pier at sunset.

"What do you think about what it says on your t-shirt?"

I look down. I look up, I'm relieved to be talking about something other than work, but still I'm a little confused.

"Erm... I dunno. I think its the kind of mentality that I wish I had. Sometimes I think I obsess about where everything is going all the time, when I should probably enjoy the journey more"

"Hmm.. okay"

Why?

"What do you think?"

"I just think THAT mentality is the reason why there is so many people on jobseekers."

He looks off to the right of me into the ether of the restaurant bustle.

This time I didn't understand.

I put in all my logical energy and arguments to explain to him why and how people ended up on jobseekers allowance (its a benefit given by the government to people out of employment that are searching for a job. It's usually about £50 a week. Not enough to live on, but could probably keep someone going for a bit in a desperate hitch). But he wouldn't budge.

He refused to accept that anyone on jobseekers could be respected, regardless of time on JSA, and claimed that the majority of people on it were just being lazy and 'sponging off the government'.

Which led onto a discussion about benefits in general.

"What about child benefit?"

"What about it? I say if you cant't finically support your own children either learn how to use contraception or abort."

It was shocking me. Worse it was hurting me.

How had I managed to be dating someone so close mindedly conservative. Without any evidence or experience of what he was hammering on about?! Was he aware that he was slagging off decent people? People who were down on their luck, or just needed a little extra help.

How could a gay student be SO closed minded?!

How was I only just discovering this is how he felt?!

In that moment I flashed back through all of the similar, less alarming conversations that we had in the past. Deep down. I'd known this about him. I had just ignored it.

The worst thing was realising that it all made sense. I understood how he got there.

I just wasn't okay with it.

And recognising I wasn't okay with that made me more aware of what else I wasn't okay with.

I wasn't okay with being neglected, I wasn't okay with being some submissive, house bunny, waiting to hear about his day and not getting asked about my own. I wasn't okay with the bottom shelf.

I wasn't okay.

I took a week to reach my decision. I thought about it hard. But I'd realised that this, much like his view of the world, was something that wasn't going to change. It was part of his nature.

If he can't change and I don't like it. Somebody's going to end up unhappy.

and so, on the 5th of June. I decided to end it.

I braced myself, and told him over Skype (not ideal, but I couldn't afford to go down and it took me all day just to convince him to give me time enough for a Skypecall!)

I knew he was going to be shocked. He was going to take it badly. He was going to be angry. He was going to be sad. He was probably going to want to bargain with me, ask which hoop to jump through. 

He was probably going to hate me.

But I understood.

On reflection we've had great relationship. All things considered it's been great for us both. But this is exactly why I didn't want to end up dragging it through the dirt to point we would hate each other. I think he kind of gets that now. I'm beginning to feel lighter and better each day!

Of course I have a lot of residual emotion to deal with; but hey...

What are blogs for? ;)

Sam In Real Life.

The Latest Beginning

"Ending a relationship is hard"

Boy ain't that the truth.

But without dwelling on the ins and outs (just yet) I'd rather just focus on starting afresh for now.

I'll divulge the main story to you when I've got a little more time!

But at the moment I am just letting my head clear out.

I've missed the blogging world!

There's so much to update on but I guess that I will have to drop bits in as I go-on. (else it would be a legendarily long post... even for me!)

But Hi, I'm Sam.

I'm 22. Male. Single. Out. - The rest indefinitely changes ;)

(Sorry it's been so long)


Sam In Real Life

The L Word

There's nothing quite like a drunken phone call.

We were 2 months into our relationship when Jake started calling me on the walk home from his SCUBA socials. Wednesday nights at 2 am, listening to him attempt to engage in regular conversation with me on the stumble home from the pub.

I was laughing at him slur through the details of his evening.

This was the type of conversation I generally didn't mind being woken up for; partly because he is his most cute when catastrophically drunken and partly because it meant I had ammunition for the next time I was mocked for being in a similar state.

"Well, I'd better go... Yeah I better go cos I think I'm starting to sound.... drunk"

I laughed.

"Yeah... okay!"

"I'm so sorry...Love you though"

"That's fine haha, I'll speak to you tomorrow!"

"(stumbles through door) Okay, Niiiiiiight"

It takes until I have put my phone back on to charge before I realised what he said.

Was that serious?

Probably not.

A few days later and he's out for his friends birthday. He rings me from the takeaway.

This time I was actually asleep.

"Jake it's 4 in the morning!"

"Shit; sorry! night Sam Sam Sammy Sam Saaaam... Love you *mwah*"

"Okay night *mwah* I'll ring you tomorrow okay?; enjoy your takeaway"

There it was again?

I should probably explain myself a little here.

In my past relationships I have always said it first. When I felt it of course. I make a point of saying it; letting them know how I feel. I lay it out plain and simple "I think I love you".

No confusion. No misinterpretation.

Blunt.

What was confusing me about Jake was that he was so casually dropping it in to conversation. Like it wasn't really that big a deal.

Maybe he didn't mean it in the serious way; perhaps it was more "I have love for you" than "I'm IN love with you"?

(When did I get so much oestrogen? Jeez!)

The following Wednesday and he was out on the SCUBA social.

I got the drunken call again. This time he was acting funny.

The conversation was stinted and he was all grumpy. Not rude, just moody for some reason.

"So did you have a good time?!"

"Yeah it was fun, we played some games."

"Are you reeeally battered?!"

"Nah, to be fair I was a little tired."

I'm not very good at ignoring it.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing"

"What. Is. Wrong?"

He pauses.

"Well, If we were on the wavelength I thought we were I thought you would know..."

Of course I know. I'm a dickhead.

"Is this about the conversation we had the other day?"

"...mmm"

"Is it about the Love you thing?"

Silence.

"I'm sorry I didn't realise you were serious... I just thought you were being casual, like joking or ...."

I ramble on.

As I continue I can hear how ridiculous I sound. I mean what did I expect from him? To get down on one knee and have it written in the sky?

He said it didn't he?

I was thinking about it.

"...I'm sorry.... I do love you too."

Oh shit. There it was. I'm surprised how easy it sounded. I hadn't really thought about how I felt about him properly; but there it was.

I was getting a little nervous at the thought;

"Hallelujah! He finally says it!"

I laugh.

I've said before; I always hold men at arms length. It doesn't surprise me that its taken this long to get comfortable with a guy; I've never given them a chance.

I always come up with excuses to not be vulnerable and in a way perhaps its why I like to see it in the people I date; it assures me they aren't infallible.

Insecurity is a treacherous thing.

But I've done it now. I'm open to care. I'm open to attack.

Now to stay sane...


Sam

Flash Forward

My God it's embarassing how long I've been away

I guess I've been out there doing what I imagine most people do when they just come out...

Enjoy it!

Instead of updating you on every detail I'm just going to talk about the current situation and continue from here... adding updates if necessary (Hopefully this will minimise the length of my posts...)

After the Red Herring incident I dated pretty unsuccessfully into August, but then due scheduling (music and last year of university... argh!) up to November last year I hadn't really been going on dates.

A week into November I started meeting up with this guy (A director, I showed him round Leeds on his first day here... He invited me back to his... etc.) but this was an entirely physical relationship... A similar situation to the way it was with Alex

However after a week of him pestering me to go and take part in some random orgy I decided it was probably time to stop. I don't think I was being honest with myself; I'm not built for long term NSA fun (by this point I'd still never had sex with a guy).

Saturday night on the bar, one of our regular customers, Steve, approached me as I was clearing some tables.

"Sam, You're single aren't you?"

I nodded. He stepped to the side and pointed to a guy sat two tables over next to Steve's girlfriend. He was in full flow conversation unaware we were both looking back at him

"What do you think about him?"

Short blonde hair, slightly muscular build and blue eyes. Really blue.

"Yeah, nice" I nodded "Why?"

"Well he's gay and, don't say I said anything but, he thinks your fit"

I wasn't used to this. Steve was a regular, but we normally discussed the films playing on the bar screens or the latest episode of Heroes... I don't ever remember telling him I dated guys...

"Oh right..." I smiled

"I reckon you should go talk to him"

"Haha - You're drunk Steve"

I declined. I was at work. And frankly tired of chasing/being chased politics. If this guy was even interested; Steve is pretty much the straightest guy I know so I wasn't going to instil much faith in his gay matchmaking.

Of course this meant that everytime I passed their table I found myself sneaking looks at the guy.

He was funny (Steve and Lisa were both laughing), He seemed normal (T-shirt, jeans, no 'scene' branding anywhere) He made eye contact.

It was brief but flirty, the kind of look that holds a conversation. It made me a little nervous.

I smiled and carried on walking past...

...UGH

I got on with my job. At the end of the night he came up to me as I walked out on the floor

"Hi"

"...Hi"

"My friend Steve just told me that..."

"He ratted you out??" I smiled

"Yeah..." He laughed. Really nice smile... framed by dimples... ARGH!

He introduced himself; Jake

"I don't want you to think I've been too scared to talk to you, its just I'm up visiting Lisa from Bristol and I go home tomorrow..."

"When do you go?"

"Early afternoon"

We exchanged numbers anyway. We ended up arranging to have a breakfast date (Which nearly killed me having been up till 6am working!)

He was a student, training to be a doctor. He SCUBA dived in his free time and has the intention of becoming a doctor for deep sea divers and submarines in the Navy. (which explained his build...)

He was doing a calendar shoot in Bristol for the lifeboats charity that afternoon (which is why he would have to leave) and the following week intended to run the 'Hell Runner Marathon'... (Which explained the runner legs)

We had breakfast, which lead to visiting the German Christmas Market (Where he explained he was half German himself) we walked round town, by the river, back up his car. We talked for this entire duration, uninterrupted.

"What time did you say you had to go?"

"We I was supposed to leave at 1"

It was now 3.30... Shit...

"But I knew I was running over... " He smiled.

The date ends with a hug. Awkward. But it seemed too perfect to ruin with a kiss. The hug said more. I don't really know how but it did.

I walk home smiling, reliving the epic conversation.

He loves to travel, he SCUBA dives, he speaks russian and above all;

He's nice guy.

Not manic depressive (Mike), Not closeted (Ollie). Not angry at the world (Chris). Not overly vindictive (Mark). Or overly sensitive (Josh).

Just honest, independent and a little vulnerable.

That's always been the winning combination.

We kept our relationship going through Skype. Speaking every single day, without fail.

A month passes and its December. He invites me down a few days before Christmas to meet his friends in Bristol and his parents.

After I arrive he guides me round his house, introducing me to his mum and we conveniently finish in his room.

Our first kiss.

It's a matter of hours before he asks me to be his boyfriend.

It's a matter of weeks before I get comfortable enough to have sex.

It's a matter of months before we go through the 'I love you' fiasco.

A few months more and we've landed safely on... well June 2011.

--------

Phew!

I hate that I've been away so long. I don't like telling stories like this! but that's just the way it is. It's good to catch up!!

Jake is currently SCUBA diving for the week in South England. Which means limited time to talk. (he pretty much runs the whole week trip for the dive school).

But I'm sure I can update you on him as we go on.

-------

SO enough about my year... what about you??!

The Red Herring

I went down to the bar I work at yesterday to catch up with my other workmates. Specifically Sam, who is gay, who I meet nearly every week to update on our *very* interesting lives. (A 'Samdate' if you will)

After sitting at the bar for about half an hour it started to get busy and Sam had to stop the conversation and focus on serving. So I just drank and waited.

"Can I join you?"

A customer had approached me with his pint. He was about my height, with spiked auburn hair and blue/hazel eyes.

I said yes obviously.

We were talking for ages. His name is Steve, he's a chef (at one of my favorite restaurants weirdly), he loves film and hopes to become a shorts director, he's moving to an apartment on the other side of town to get away from his shared housing nightmare.... Oh and he speaks French.....

:-D

We were buying each other drinks and even when other people came over to join us, to speak to him, or to me - he would casually deflect them and begin talking to me again.

He went to the bathroom and my workmate Suzie grabbed me by the arm...

"That guy was really checking you out..."

I smiled. I thought so.

I have previously highlighted my distinct lack of Gaydar, but recently I feel like I have been getting a little better. A little...

Suzie's comment gave me a little more confidence in my analysis.

When he returned we continued to talk. About my degree and him spending all of last year in France. I talked about my favourite French cities. Eventually we got onto the subject of La Rochelle...

"Yeah my girlfriend is obsessed with that place"

Shit.

I found my head suddenly rewinding through the whole conversation. Trying to understand how I didn't see this before. Attemping to reassess all of the flirty banter.

I felt cheated. Lead on....

But in all fairness this guy had just been speaking. He was talking to me. Maybe he wasn't interested - just lonely at the bar and wanted a chat.

And then came that sickening feeling where you realise you may have just become 'that' gay.

Incapable of holding a normal conversation with a guy without thinking they are coming on to you - Translating innocent phrases like 'Can I join you' into 'Your house or mine?' like some tragic sexual desperado. Ugh.

I pacified myself eventually and today went on with my life.

On my train back to town, Sam (who was working again and wanted us to finish our Samdate) text me to tell me 'That chef guy' had come in.

I got off the train, rushed through the station, practically speed-walked to the bar...

(What am I doing?!)

It was SO strange. Why was I excited about seeing him?! Why was I acting like this...?!

I (casually) walked in, met Sam, spoke for a little and scoped the place for Steve from the bar but I couldn't see him.

Sam explained he was with his group of friends in the corner. We joked about him, carrying on our conversation.

Steve appeared next to me, I greeted him

He was wearing a shirt this time. A formal black shirt. (FIT!)

He started talking to me about what he'd been up to, he asked me about my day...

Banter.

Right?

My manager and Sam kept indicating that he was flirting, my manager point blank refusing to believe he wasn't despite the girlfriend factor.

After two hours (which passed TOO fast?!) I decided I needed to go home.

He agreed. He was tired too.

It was then that I realised he had left his friends to come and speak to me for the whole time I was there?? (Is that... normal? Would I do that?)

His taxi arrived and he waved goodbye and awkwardly placed himself into the car. (he's tall like me... low vehicles are a piss-take, as are public transport seats weirdly...) After he was seated I waved and smiled...

and watched him drive away?! UNTIL THE CAR WAS OUT OF SIGHT??!

UGH! UGH! UGH!

I may fancy a straight guy. I have SEEN him TWICE?!

It's like being fucking twelve all over again!!

What is going on?!

11:11 PM

You stand in the kitchen.

Removing the cap from your beer you lean, uneasily, against the sideboard.

As you throw the cap across the room into the bin; your father enters hastily, across the space, into the the bathroom.

You hear the ker-snick of the lock.

Having travelled down to home with the sole intention of coming out to him... finally... it seems a shame that three days have passed since your return and you still haven't even attempted to bring it up.

It's a big deal. It was never going to be like telling Mum, or James.

You and Dad haven't always been 'tight'. In fact. You used to treat each other like strangers.

It was horrible.

Luckily; as time went on, you discovered that you shared a love for the same bands and films.

Your first concert experience was with him. You stayed up till three in the morning talking about Pulp Fiction. Before you went to University, you got pissed in the dining room and he ended up advising you which illegal drugs to experiment with...

Suddenly you understood each other. It was like discovering you could speak Parseltongue.

And years later - here you are; before the Basilisk and speechless...

.....But it has never seemed like 'the right time'!

You were alone together yesterday morning eating breakfast. It was too early.

You were alone together at lunchtime when he came home for a sandwich. You didn't want him to go back to work with it on his mind.

You will be alone together in a few moments when he completes his bedtime routine by making himself a cup of tea in the kitchen before retiring to his room. It's definitely too late in the evening.

...

You plan to tell him. Before you leave.

You calculate when you will see him tomorrow and realise that you will have to leave for your train before he gets back from work. So unless you get up at 8 in the morning to speak to him then it's too late

You've had all day! What have you been playing at?!

You can book another trip down next weekend and tell him then? If you can get work off. Which is unlikely. He goes on holiday the following weekend for three weeks so it will actually be next month before you see him again.

Shit.

The lock clicks and he comes walking into the kitchen, redoing his belt.

"Well... Goodnight"

he mumbles as he shuffles toward the hallway.

What about the tea?!!! Shit. Shit. He's going. Shit.

"Are you okay?"

He's looking at you. He looks confused. You become aware of just how panicky your face must look...

Fuck.

"Nothing"

That answer doesn't make sense!

"I mean, yeah I'm fine"

"Are you SURE...?"

No.

...

"Dad I need to talk to you about something"

Wait. WAIT. NO! SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT

"Yeah...?"

SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT.

....He's waiting....

....

"Well..."

-You know ages ago when... nah...

"Basically..."

-I'm attracted to guys? Urgh no...

"Well, the thing is"

His face has dropped completely, he looks serious. Negatively so. Shit.

"It's nothing bad or anything."

"Just spit it out."

He has stopped moving entirely and he is looking straight at you. SHIT.

"I'm bisexual. Basically."

URGH! No No NO! - That came out far too blunt! CRINGE.

"Basically... Well; Yeah... Basically.... Yeah."

STOP SAYING FUCKING BASICALLY.

Silence...

He hasn't spoken. OH FUCK.

"Riight...."

.......

...?!

A million years pass...

"Have you told your mum?"

"Yeah"

"Right... What did she say?"

"Well... nothing really..."

"Right..."

You have to speak. He has to understand. Why isn't he asking more questions?! Mum had plenty! Shit. DIS. LIKE.

"The thing is Dad. I told mum and James ages ago. Like in February"

"Okay... well that's not AGES ago..."

Why is that relevant?!

"And I think I have been putting off telling you because..."

Oh Jesus.

"Well, I think we haven't always been close like you and James are. 

But I think we have got more in common and got closer as I have gotten older..."

"Yeah. I think thats true..."

"And I just didn't want this to be something that fucks it up basically"

You just swore. Did you just swear? YOU JUST SWORE. AT YOUR FATHER. AND YOU JUST SAID BASICALLY.

He's looking at you. But he looks...

He looks like he might cry?!

Jesus. Please don't. You can't take it... Your heart is beating so fast you've have gone deaf. He's definitely saying words as he walks over to you but you can't hear him.

He hugs you.

A hug? really?

"Don't worry about it"

You discuss. Well he asks questions. You talk. You give him only the answers. You don't elaborate, or over describe. You keep it minimal. You don't want to accidentally scar him. Eventually he stops.

"Well if it's alright I'm gonna go to bed."

Really? That's... That's it?

"Okay... Goodnight"

He leaves. Your knees feel like someone has wedged soft cheese into the joints. You lean on the sideboard for support. You look down at it to discover during your talk you have, unknowingly, torn the label off your beer and shredded it into small pieces all over the counter.

You clean it up and then you just stand there.

Something doesn't seem. Normal.

Where's the buzz? The 'woo-hoo he knows' feeling? Everything feels off angle. Disbalanced.

James comes in and you start to update him.

He doesn't say anything helpful.

Great.

Mid-conversation Dad returns. This time in a towel:

"So wait a minute...
If you're gay; then how come your room's always so fucking untidy?"

...And the balance is restored.


Sam