I lost Joey.
He always encouraged me to communicate, to show how I feel, to understand each other better, but I was always afraid if he saw what wasn’t beautiful under there, and retreated, like many had done, or like what I had done to many. He wanted me to show him my writing, I did not. He wanted me to sing for him, I did not. Last night I followed the advice and let it all out. My mistake was I let it all out on him.
For the past 2 months, he has been the thought that stayed in the back of my mind and kept pushing me through the most mundane tasks. My income and sleep pattern was volatile, “he would be here in no time”. My students underperformed, some dropped out of my class, “he would be here in no time”. Office people acted with artificial politeness, military call awaited for the 2nd time, “he would be here in no time”. All of my friends were getting married or celebratory of their relationships, using mine as a comparative platform, “he would be here in no time”. Bad sex, “he would be here in no time”.
Did I grow dependent? I never knew, but I knew I tried not too. Maybe hiding things away from him would do the trick. A few days ago he dropped me a random message saying “I’m glad you’re mine.” I texted him back in my language, laughed it off when he asked if I had just used the four-letter word.
Last night was sore. It was my birthday and yet I felt so out of place. I asked a girl, from a long time ago in high school, whom I had a small crush on back then, who remembered the date, out for drinks. We just sat there and talked and drank until almost midnight. That’s when things happened. I started to lose control of my mind. Damian told me about this, twice, that I was good at pushing buttons. This time I was too good.
It hit me at 3am. I didn’t know what to do. I tried to contact Damian. I tried to sleep. I cried and jerked off. That’s what I knew best.
The early morning when I knew I had him, somebody sent over a newly released Lady Gaga’s song. I went to the restroom, listened to it in the dark, leaving him still sleeping still in bed. It was mellow, a bit country, the lyrics could have been better in some parts, especially when Hillary Lindsey & Mark Ronson helped pen this. Upon one complete spin, I returned to bed, put his face on my chest, and laid there again. This morning, I woke up to the same guy sending over the official video and a halfway dream about how my relative become Gaga’s manager. But after watching the video, I returned to bed, writing this, with the bitterness in my mouth and my thought instead.