The weather’s not right. When I’m in a mood like the one I’m in tonight, it should be raining. Heavily and dramatically. But it’s not.
To make up for the lack of dramatic rain, I’m playing “End of the Road” by Boyz II Men really loud on repeat.
I’m having an angst.
Last night, I accidentally slept for 12 hours. And yet I don’t feel particularly well-rested. Then, with the way things went in college today, I accidentally let eighteen and a half hours go by without eating anything. I’ve made up for it since, though, having had an entire packet of chocolate biscuits and a litre of milk for dinner.
At least I’m still doing OK in college. My new exercise regime seems to have fallen by the wayside though.
Last week, I allowed myself to fall in love with a straight man.
When I was an undergraduate student in Cork, I fell in and out of love with straight men regularly. I drunkenly cornered them at house parties and in nightclubs and they let me down gently and kindly, like the considerate bastards that they were.
Or else I just longed for them and did nothing. I wallowed in the impossibility of having my love requited. And I kind of enjoyed it.
I never really got out of the habit of falling in love with straight men. But I learned to insulate my heart and not to fall too hard, to turn the crush from love to a passing fancy.
That’s not to say I never get carried away. Sometimes I imagine he’ll turn gay for me. Other times I imagine he was gay all along. And sometimes I imagine he’ll fall in love with me, but stay straight. We’ll live together and we’ll kiss and cuddle, but he’ll go out and have sex with girls and I’ll go out and have sex with boys. But then we’ll come home to each other, tell each other about our flings and climb into bed and spoon.
And last week I fell hard. My heart danced with the excitement of love. The butterflies in my tummy kept me awake and stopped me from eating. I found myself smiling for mo reason.
And then, as it always does, reality came and kicked me in the testicles.
He’s straight. As far as I know, he has a girlfriend. He’ll never fall in love with me. And you’re not a teenager any more, Connor. This isn’t cute.
2013 will be a year when I fall for an actual gay. And it will be the year when an actual gay falls for me. Because if I keep on playing Boyz II Men, I’m going to wear out the internet.