Heart of Glass

He called from the other side of the world. And my heart skipped a beat. It's been seven hours and nineteen days that I've been on my own and even though it's a somehow liberating experience, I miss him. I do. Twisted, convoluted and irration as it may seem. I miss my husband.

I know he is enjoying himself. He loves the weather, the culture and most of all Thai boys. And I'm sure he's getting an eyeful. And maybe more. Am I jealous, you wonder? I'm pondering the same. I think at some level I am, because in the end, finding out that someone who could have you would rather have someone else is a blow to your ego, on the other hand I think that the experience may liberate him (and me) and maybe cause a little earthquake in our life and start a new era. Like the Miocene. Only that this time instead of new life forms our life will have an extension in life.


It's also somehow disturbing that he seems prone to tell me he misses me much more now that a friend of his was looking at my pictures and asked him how he could be away from me for more than a month. It's the second time that it takes some other guy's opinion to re-focus him on me. It's funny when some other people find me attractive that his interest in me increases. Like looling at an insect through a magnifying glass. It becomes bigger, exciting, more interesting, new.... never to last?

Oh, well. Let's see what happens when he comes back. Probably will go back to what he calls hes 'baseline'. Which means I'll be bored out of my mind at times and at times totally pissed off. But at least I won't be thinking that my life is boring. Don't you think? Meanwhile I'll keep doing my thing here. Eating starburst by the pound, cooking weird things for myself and typing silly thingin this blog. And listening to 'oldies', or the music I used to listen to when I was your age. Funny, ain't it? What for me is nostalgia for you may be just old. But it happens with must of my stuff. I think I'm way too fucking sui-generis to find someone with my same taste. And the saddest part is that I already gave up in the search. Call it comfort. Or conformity. Or cowardice. But it's more convenient. At least I won't be finding at the end that he's got a heart of glass...

Cheers, babyboy.