I am very, very bad at relationships. I know that, we know that and the cows with 6 eyes on Mars probably know that too.
Being nervous about not fucking up would probably be an understatement now because my head is filled with question marks of all sizes. I have no idea how much I truly like him and what if all these that we are doing now is a mistake?
The problem with romance is that everyone expects a fairytale- a soulmate; a perfect fit; someone who will act upon your thoughts before you and life becomes this rosey sugary cotton floss scented land where you wake up feeling like sunshine. I have seen enough and heard enough to know that this is perhaps as true as your 500 days of summer and every word written out of Taylor Swift’s blonde head.
Being gay makes life so difficult sometimes and all I want, all I need is just a person, an un-cynical person who still believe in all the thrash I no longer believe in and in everything that I believe is sacred and important. To find someone like that is more difficult than uncovering a fossilized baby dinosaur in the world I live in.
I don’t know him long enough to want to be with him but I am extremely comfortable around him and I miss him when he isn’t around.
But as of now, I am happy- something which I haven’t been for a long time and I think to at least see the world now with a little less monochrome is enough, knowing that he is around.
