Guys Map

Near my dorm, there is this big hospital.
It means, lot of doctors.
Medical doctors.
In white uniform.


Across the hospital, there's this police office.
Polices there are all young and hunky.
Well-shaped.
I've seen them doing morning report.
They're all in tight uniforms.
Young police-men.


At my working place, there are tons of caucasians.
Cute. Young. Blue eyes. Hazel eyes. Tall.
Great smile.
Expatriates.



Now, the ultimate question
.
.
.
why the hell am I still single?

JEALOUS!

Seriously.

WHY DOES THAT BITCH OVER THERE HAVE A BOYFRIEND ALREADY AND SEEM HAPPILY EVER AFTER?




Grr!

They're Together.

It was a nice morning. It was quiet, and I was in peace. Everything was like heaven. I checked my facebook, my personal e-mails, my professional e-mail, and then started doing my morning report. Have I told you that my boss is a married hottie?

Anyway, I was struggling over a small thing at my facebook when I saw today's Highlights. I saw a picture of two guys, topless, hugging each other. The top was pretty cute, by the way, but A'a thought that the bot guys was more okay.

So, out of curiosity and being a busy-body a bit, I clicked the picture. Guess what? It was not only a picture. It's a whole set album of the two guys, consisted almost like 20 pics. I was silenced. I was shocked. I was bothered.

Silenced because I didnt really see that the top guy would choose this sentence for the album title: My Love of My Life. Ignore the grammar, though, as we know that he was trying to be cute. And adorable. And he succeeded.

Shocked because it was FACEBOOK. Hullo, people! I know social networking is THAT practical, efficient, and effective, but do you really need to go in public just like that? That you really need to burst out every detail of your private life to millions of strangers out there in the world wide web?

And eventually, bothered, because THEY'RE TOGETHER. THEY'RE HAPPY. When was the last time I ever saw anybody that happy? That completed? That protective? That contended? Frankly, I don't know. I don't remember..

It was time before I looked at myself. It was also then that I realised how I am not okay. How I have been trying to find excuse to compensate my being single. How I choose the 'reserved' or the 'date high' and then blame it all on chemistry just to get an easy exit. How I simply said that I am not an insecure person who prefers to wait for the fairy tale to come true. How I twist every words and accuse every men of their unfaithfulness.

And there I was: sitting on my desk, feeling HOW STUPID I HAVE BEEN. HOW PATHETIC I HAVE BEEN. I shaked my head. I let the simple yet sweet picture ruined all my morning. Gee, guess I do have a lot of lesson to learn.

While I should have been looking at the bright side, I actually almost cried.
If they can make it, if they can show to the world that they're happy, why can't I be happy? Why can't I find someone for me? Someone who would take me as I am even when I am just a freak or a total loser?

Question is, WHEN? And HOW?
Promise. When I found him, I'd stand up being a witness to the existence of love.
So, dont be afraid or shy to share your stories too.

Date High

Honestly, and seriously, I have never done drugs before. And I dont plan on doing that in any near nor far future. So, I dont really get to say nor comment nor judge anything about getting high. But, I do know things about serotonin and dopamine. Relax, I wont depict anything scientific here - my point is that I get a picture about being high.

And that's what I feel whenever I begin dating. Whenever I am out to meet my soon-to-be date, or whenever I see him naked for the first time. The first kiss. The first touch. First sex. Anything that comes at the first time. It gives me anxiety and basically makes me forget where my feet are. It's like when you're getting drunk. You forget everything else - your life, your lousy love, your problems, anything.

I am not saying that I am being another escape artist who fears the commitment. But really, first dates, first kisses, all that come first, really give me this much fun. I dont have to worry anything else. I dont have to get jealous. I dont have to be insecure about myself. I dont have to be any other person but myself. And probably that's why I enjoy more any open relationship.

By saying open, I am not referring to you-can-see-other-people-because-I-do-see-other person-too. My selfish version of 'open' is that hey-lets-get-intimate-but-please-dont-say-you-want-a-relationship-with-me-nor-you-love-me. At my previous posting, I'd refer it as 'reserved', instead of 'in-a-relationship'. But those skeptical and cynical people - well, I think they would simply say 'engaged-with-a-fucking-buddy' - that is, someone you regularly sleep with, without string attached. A mutual relationship based on sex.

I am not proud of what I am writing here. But I do think that we - male species of Homo sapiens, are created with the need of challenge and adventure. We need the adrenaline. Moreover, unlike the female species, we're not created with the ability to endure pain and anxiety. We might have the 'durability', but we're not good at it. In my opinion, females are created with better emotion management, thus they can handle any baggage that comes with a relationship better. Plus, they have better moral compass.

We? The male? I am not giving excuse to justify our unfaithfulness. Admit it, we're not created to be faithful. But so what? It's not time to be a drama queen. So many people are being single out there, and they're fine. They may look around and wondering how happy any couples are, but believe me, dont ever cross the line just because you're lonely. And who said that couples dont have their own problems?

Truth is, everything around us is messy. Being single is messy sometimes, but it has its perks. Being in a relationship may make you seem completed, yet it comes with problems too. Having a fucking buddy? Is it a win-win solution for being semi-single and semi-taken? LOL. You tell me.

Desperate Gayboy

A friend of mine once told me that I'd make a good actor if there's a gay version of Desperate Housewives. I didn't give a damn about it, because at the time, I was not a fan. I didn't watch the show regularly. I thought that watching the girls struggled for love and relationship was a bit of out-of-my-league.

But I do now. In fact, that's one of the many reasons that I don't update my blog regularly. *grin*

Well, I used to be a person who considered himself as 'not-desperate' enough to do dumb things. Hey, I might be dark and twisted, scary and damaged, drama-queeny and in-denial, but at least, I am not desperate enough. But after watching the five seasons of the show, I could really tell that I AM DESPERATE.

How so? Lets see.
I am the gay version of Susan Mayer (Teri Hatcher). I am clumsy, I believe in fairy-tale, I am not really good in handling people, and at the top of all, I am not capable of being happy. I have a tendency to sabotage my own relationship. If everything is going too smooth, I would find another reason to bitch around, to not feel contended, and then looking forward for another drama to come. Then when everything is too late, I'd feel sorry, I'd regret all the things I've said and done, and I'd dwell in the past. I am insecure all the time, because everyone just does better than me. The worst? I keep sending mixed and wrong signal that most of the time, I drive people I like away and people I dont really like closer.

Now, on difference worth-mentioning here is that in the show, there were 5 guys (five, right?) approaching her. Karl, the first ex-husband, a lawyer who cheated on her but then realised that she was the love of his life. Mike, the second ex-husband, a plumber who loved her more than himself that he understood her that much, a gentleman who'd look after Susan from afar. Ian, an editor (editor or publisher?) from England - Gosh he had such a lovely dialect - who fell in love just twice. Ron, a medical doctor, who finally left her for he realised that her heart couldnt contain another man than Mike. And finally, Jackson, a painter who asked her to marry him so that he wasn't deported back to Canada. Obviously, Susan chose Mike. But you know who I'd choose? Either Ron or Ian. Ron, because I have a silly obsession about doctor things, and Ian, because he has a sexy dialect.

I am desperate, aren't I? Childishly desparate in a dreamy manner. I hang myself so tight to my silly fairy tale dream, seeking excuse that it's okay to believe in a fairy tale, that there really is a 'happily-ever-after' awaiting in the end. It is okay, let me be clear. But it's not right to throw away any chance to be happy right now, at this very moment, just because the person we're with right now can't live up to our dream.

The very same friend -who told me the desperate gayboy thing- also said that it's better being alone than badly accompanied. But I am not Edie Britt. Nobody's perfect. Nobody can be like what we want. And now it's time for me to compromise.

How about you? Which desperate housewives are you?