Not quite sure how I ended up here, but turns out that neither of the flats are to be sold. Bromance no longer wants to buy me out, at least not at the moment, and boyfriend decided it was all good all of a sudden. And me: I’m easy. Truth be told, bromance is better behaved nowadays, more reasonable, and he’s got a girlfriend. A woman’s touch has softened him. But. Still a jerk and will end up in a book (he desired that too much for it not to happen).
So if anyone needs a book on how to manage two lives, two men, living in two flats, working almost full time, and studying full time, I’m the man to ask to write it. Call me the polyamorous super manager. Oh yeah, please let all lovers be in denial about being gay/bisexual too. I’ll manage that too. ‘Cos I’m easy.
In my next life however, please remind me to just be poly about cheesy doodles and cava (Spanish sparkling wine) – in that carb filled relationship at least I’d be the given power top.
The world is an awful place. You’re just not safe even in your safe places. Like the Pulse shooting. Fuck homophobia and fuck heterosexual male fragility and fuck the racism that always follow in the discussion afterwards. People die of terrorism everyday, people die from mass shootings every day, people are killed for their sexuality or gender every day. We must mourn and remember, but we must be strong and party on claiming our rights. Human rights and equality are fragile things, and are easily withdrawn come the wrong regime to power. Things we take for given as we have won them ages ago, can easily be revoked or be given less importance.
Bromance be gone. Harder than I thought. He sent some hurtful hateful messages and I blocked him. We still have to talk I guess as we must sell the flat or have one of us buy the other’s share. And husband, well, on is off is on is off is on. We just can’t decide. Plus I had to have a minor surgery in my stomach so I haven’t been able to work or do anything for weeks. But at least I now have less pain than before, which is good. They both behaved rather nicely after the surgery.
So. Perhaps me and my husband and the bromance shouldn’t have fucked it all up. Perhaps we should have.. It’s such a coincidence how every time I make poor choices I end up with bad luck.
These last two weeks I’ve been arguing with everyone. Husband decided he was just fed up with me, and bromance called my feelings a kind of cancer. Lovely. Yes I’m strong willed and can be a pain in the ass, but there’s a heart of gold on the inside. I’m just freaked out over a surgery I have to go through mid-june. Life’s like a dick, if it gets hard: fuck it. I’m done with these two.
Some things go nowhere. Apparently bromance is one of them. We were on again for a few weeks, and off, and on and off again. I’ve been halal in the streets and haram in the sheets.
I’ve been too haram for him. I’ve been perfect. And now it’s off again.
We were off business wise, then on again. And even more on. Then he found a great project to work with, and didn’t ask me – which basically means – if not my friend, he’s my enemy [that’s how I work]. Sadly he couldn’t go on with that project as he didn’t get to work with my money. Sadly, gladly, what ever. I guess he resents me for having demands about my money. I would invest in the blink of an eye if he just said the word, but he won’t.