More on my Mexican fiasco. Are you in tune with yourself? Do you listen to yourself? My brown eyed Mexican had some sort of deep pull on me. I can’t explain it. It’s not like I know the guy all that. It was my heart tugging and it was not something I was in control of. It’s like that little clicking sound you hear when you ignite a gas burner. It’s electricity.
Yes, I was love struck. No doubt about it. Was he Mr. Right? What about TC? What to do? Being the big goofy dope that I am, I went home and the next day I wrote Eduardo a very sweet email, “nice to have seen you, appreciate your warmth, you have a lot to offer”. I meant it sincerely.
But the minute I hit the SEND button, I wish I hadn’t sent him anything. What was the point? What was I looking for? Why was I even looking? What did I expect him to do? But I felt something and homos walk around with all kinds of bottled up shit. Life is too short in my opinion, if someone has an impact on you, let them know. Risk and progress are highly intertwined. So I sent the email, fool that I am.
Then I waited. Waited for a reply. I started playing the theme song from Jeopardy. Still nothing in my inbox. Days go by. Fucker, let me pour my heart out and leave me in the cold. When you have no intelligence, you start inventing it (witness George Bush). Since I didn’t have Eduardo’s email address, I had simply guessed at it vaguely remembering it was his name at gmail (how unique).
With no more will power, I sent him another note with the very lame “..hey did you get my email, is this the right email address.” I might as well as closed with “your loving doofus”. Once again, I hit the SEND button. Once again, I felt like a total moron.
Only this time he quickly replied. Yes, “handsome” he called me. Now that’s the way to stroke your daddy. I got your email, how sweet. A little firmer on the downstroke. I appreciate your email, please keep writing. What am I some porn writer? I am drafting my reply. I sure hope I’m in his will.
I’m not sure what dark alley I’m driving down here. I’m following my emotion and as we all know, men have stupid emotions. The reality I have TC (who I’ve decided to nickname for this new blog Scrappy Doo). He loves me, shows me his feelings, is highly attentive and will get naked on demand. Plus he’s fun to travel with and we’re generally good together 24×7. So just WTF am I doing?
Meanwhile all these other bloggers, love is illusive, unhappiness abounds. I should consider myself lucky.