For the last week, I have been anxious and desperate to call B, just to hear his voice. I’ve been able to distract myself, knowing that it might not be such a great idea — I just miss him so much.
This morning, I got as far as reaching for the phone, pressing the buttons to find his number… and discovered that it had aged off the Caller ID log.
Of course, I have his number elsewhere. But I took it as a sign from fate that our time is over.
For the first time since I arrived in California, today was cool and completely cloudy — I enjoyed it, it reminded me of an April day back home. And just a few moments ago, I heard a familiar sound, but [more...]
In less than a week, I’ll be so close to 40 that, especially in gay terms, I might as well be dead. I can feel the twinges of mid-life crisis beginning to creep into my doddering, graying head. For instance, it [more...]
I now know what the next step in this mourning process is: laying in bed alone getting drunk on cheap white zinfandel.
Yum!
