I haven’t been around much this week or so, beyond reblogs from my phone when on the toilet at work pretty much. But tumblr, imma get real with you.
I’m not on tumblr much anymore. Anyone notice? Probably not given that I still do reblog shit randomly. But it’s true; my laptop is now closer to five years old than four, so I’ve been giving it breathing room and using my computer a lot less. Work’s network updates have caused me to not be able to load tumblr unless I repeatedly force group policy updates, and since it’s only affecting tumblr, I just don’t do it much.
And on the actual tumblr-experience side of things, I’m getting kind of tired of just reblogging things, occasionally bitching anonymously, having the same five people like the same entries, and not getting much feedback. Though, I haven’t really posted anything original in eons, so I don’t know what feedback I’m expecting. I don’t really wind up with new followers that reach out, don’t get messages or anons or anything.
Mostly tumblr has just become that app that reminds me that someone else is out there liking a picture of me that wisforwonder took when I was a pup. Which is bittersweet because I have seen that boy once since January 1st, and have been describing him to my friends and therapist as one of my best friends and most meaningful people in my New York life. The day that I found out that his long term plans could involve leaving NYC, I took that to my therapist right away and talked about it for half an hour. About a lot of things, really— how my first two years in NYC have engrained me so deeply with a fear that everyone is going to move on from being an active friend of mine to a passive occasional messanger-on-facebook-only who says things like “*hugs*” randomly but doesn’t do much more, until they stop texting me and only reply instead of seeking me out and so many things.
So naturally when he started spending a lot of time talking to Paul, I got a little jealous (a lot jealous actually). Really conflicted though— I recognize(d) that the jealousy was entirely involving me, and that I was happy that he and Paul were hanging out and talking, because I knew already that their shared interests and snark were more than enough to form the basis of a solid friendship. But, I also knew that in NYC, friendship is time, and we ration that time out carefully.
And Paul, who has really only spoken to me once or twice politely since a failed threesome the first and only time I managed to hang out with him, causes me a lot of anxiety. I used to have a hypothetical crush on him, at least a friend crush, and see him as a better version than myself (he was Midwestern, into leather, had a lot more experience than me / still dos, had a better paying IT job in our major competitor’s headquarters, etc), and so when he stopped messaging me back and it became clear that he was uninterested in me both as a friend and a fuck, I moved on. Though I saw him constantly at the Eagle, with a lot of the same people who I would smile at and give shy eye-contact to (because in person, alone, I am really shy and get bad social anxiety, even if I am able to stand out wearing just about anything/nothing) who would see me briefly and then work to look away all night / tighten their circle of bud-drinking friends.
So now both of them are dating, which is wonderful for them both (and I am really jealous of Paul, because Wisforwonder is capable of some pretty spectacularly beautiful love / even though we never really hooked up, I count him as having been one of my most intimate friends since Aaron and I broke up two and a half years ago). I feel sad by it— really sad, but know that the sadness is involving myself, and not their situation. In that same way that jealousy is almost entirely self-centric.
Meanwhile, in the past few months, I have stopped going out. I don’t like going out alone—I have finally decided that, and am not putting myself in that situation again often. I spent too much of New York going out and getting completely wasted as I progressively tried to hide and hide more, and then spending the late hours crying profusely, texting anyone who spoke to me still, and finding my way home.
I haven’t hooked up in a month or so too, and haven’t really had a random hookup beyond a sex party or two (just to get off) this year. Scruff, grindr, recon…all of those things are less and less interesting, and people find the real me less and less appealing on their menu of quick fucks and distractions from their open relationship (I get frustrated so quickly that “open relationship” or “polyamory” in the gay community is mostly just a euphemism for “one night stands with people beyond my long term boyfriend”).
I haven’t had a date in longer. I haven’t had a real date in eons. Except with Wisforwonder, at restaurants, maybe, but I still can’t tell if that is what it was or not, and if I was oblivious. We were friends going to dinner because we hadn’t seen each other in so long. When it comes to blind dates or dates with someone I’ve recently met or anything like that…the last major one was Jon, back when I was still living with Aaron. Two years ago.
Anyway I’m tired and have work coming up, but that’s why I’ve been on hiatus. I’m falling deeper and deeper into a really antisocial, anxiety-ridden place, and apologize if that means I’ve disappeared or fallen out of touch or, for you H, become really difficult and abrasive sometimes when we do speak.