I had a dream the other night in which Milo came to presence. He was showcasing the worst part of himself, manipulating, reasoning, making me helpless, as he was competing with me for the same guy. Just like the ending period of our 1 year together in real life, I couldn’t do nothing but to hide from it and just let him do all the damage. I was weak.
The funny thing is, the guy whom we both desired in the dream looked just like Milo, but kind and gentle, like the part of him that I was in love with in the beginning.
The past week was crazy with all missed deadline for a scholarship, the logistics work and office regular mundanity. But in big events like this, I actually quite enjoyed being able to run around and try to solve immediate tasks, meeting new people and showing them the best of the country. Another perk is the quickies on the side.
I let a Filipino give me a blow in a fancy restroom and a followed a Hong Kong guy into his hotel room between sessions. He wanted to kiss but I said no. I wanted to cum on his mouth but he said no.
Those experiences allowed me to go back to the room with a victorious smile, like being aware of a secret no one knows, but apart from that, there was nothing else. The physical pleasure wasn’t that great. And the emptiness was growing with each road that I took on the way home.
Speaking of the event, there was a girl there that I hadn’t known before and became really fond of throughout the course of 3 days. She was smart, talking in wit and comebacks. She said I had a perverted cat smile. She saved food for me when she knew I was hungry. And she was willing to throw her professional esteem aside to put on a little play with me to sneak one hamburger away from the delegation.
She was conscious of my space and was considerate enough to draw conclusion only enough evidence gathered. She entered the room with eagerness in her eyes to tell me something and then retreated upon seeing me falling asleep. She painted me a picture of thousands of colors in India when I said I was about to embark on such trip.
She texted me after the program, saying she just had a crush on somebody. I don’t know if it’s me. I like to think it is me, for self-pleasure purpose. I like to think it isn’t me at the same time, for guilt and, again, helplessness.
It was cold today. I was taking pills again. After driving 1 of my students home, I took a detour and had a light night snack at this popular spot I used to go to a lot. I could only text her about the tiredness, the hunger, the state of having no company and the sleeping disorder. The only thing I left out is the sex cycle. None of such things I told Joey.
In actuality, I did. It usually started with a hint, here and there, to test the water, to see if it could be a suitable subject to discuss via text messages, to see if we had got to that part of comfort-ability. Again, he always encouraged us to exchange, to communicate, which I wholeheartedly agreed. But again, it was always halfway, those conversations. I told her about it.
“Are you really being true in such occasions?” she asked .
I didn’t know. And I didn’t know either if I should be surprised, or sad, that I could talk to her about things that I didn’t know how to talk to Joey.
Later that night, her message came, saying we shouldn’t contact each other anymore. I knew at that moment the confirmation to my thoughts. If I want to save it, I need to come clean – thing I couldn’t bring myself to do with the high school sweetheart and AM, even up till now.