Since I’ve last written I’ve been in Bangladesh, a place that makes Manila look like a tropical Paradise, a quick trip to Australia and come Monday I’ll be in the US for the next two weeks. Big surprise, I’ve managed to catch a cold and in recovery mode.

I’ve tried to come to peace with my concerns about Scrappy. I can’t be responsible for his happiness nor whether he deems his life a success to the degree he might have or would have liked. Our breakup will be the day he should attempt to blame me for any of these thin
He’s a loyal little mop of hair and dare any other homo come sniffing about me, he’ll be barking, snarling and tail low at whoever comes near. My previous bad judgement hook-up from last year, the ultra hot Vietnamese guy (I still shiver at the thought), texted me this week as he was back in Hong Kong and “eager to see me.”  Yes indeed, fond memories of my past indiscretions. But he’s obviously still on the market, still looking, looking for something that may not in fact exist. I happy to have that in the You can’t delegate authority over your life to 3rd party.

My apartment building forces me to pass by 3 security positions to getting to my front door. Arriving anonymously is impossible and they all know who you are and are quite friendly. The chuckle was one security guard was asking me about whether Scrappy was my “son.” I still chuckle about that, I’m sure we’re the gossip talk amongst the building staff.

The fact is Scrappy continues to make me happy. He’s different than most homos and I have to say I got lucky and need to remind myself of that periodically. Yes it could always be better or most certainly different, but I’m glad I’m not out on the free market  a 50+ year old man looking for love in all the wrong places.