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?
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