13th of the Month for the Gay Guy

**I'm writing this as a sequel to something I wrote before and this explains my what I feel about the situation in full detail. Anyway, I'm getting sick and tired of what the two of us have in here, and talking about it twice already calls for a conclusion. And a pack of Marlboro Lights. And maybe even uninhibited sex with a complete stranger, but that's a different story. Anyway, I need to finish this once and for all, and I'm sealing the lid on the coffin with this one. And for the record, with what I'm feeling at the time I wrote this, it might as well be a Friday.


We agreed to not allow any extra-curricular motherfucking bullshit mush to take place in between us. Call me unlawful, but I'm already missing him the last time we talked eight hours ago.

See, here's the thing: I'm gay, he's straight. Parameters have been set to avoid getting uncomfortable with each other, and those preventive measures are working like a goddamned charm. It's sometimes unbelievable that we didn't have to talk face to face to understand that we have this lovely conversation taking place for a full ten months now. As a matter of fact, the communication's so terribly freeflowing that we find ourselves talking for four to five hours straight in the early hours of the morning with not as much as a clue that it's already taking that long. And yet, it's this developing ease of conversation that tends to raise ugly hell for the gay guy involved.

Maybe you're not understanding what I'm trying to say here, but it's just that the more we talk, the more interested I become, and the longer we talk, the more unbearable it appears. Recall that we talked about setting boundaries where they see fit, believe me they couldn't be any more appropriate in between a straight guy and a gay guy, but I have to admit that there suddenly are things which are less difficult than fulfilling my end of this agreement.

Compared to this, a root canal without the anaesthesia is singularly bearable. Twice all over.

I know it's fun and easy and full of all that creamy goodness, but his being straight is a disappointing loose end. And for that matter, make that two loose ends. Newsflash, he has a girlfriend, and in this equation, that is a BIG minus. See, I've always had the worst luck as a housebreaker. Thankfully, I've long since abandoned that post.

Yes, I'm glad that he's happy talking for hours on end. But when will I be happy, REAL happy, for a change?

I agreed to not let myself get a little with him on the understanding that it simply is the right and the only thing to do. It's such a beautiful correspondence that anything even remotely resembling a threat deserves to be eliminated as soon as possible. But how can that be be when sometimes, I just can't help myself?