At 9.15 a.m., TC dragging a 8000 pound suitcase, broken rollabout, huge brown leather bag filled with every airline boarding pass he’d every gotten, notes from people who want him to email and enough haircare products to open a salon, climbed onto the bus to New York. Snarling and bitching as he went.
Walking back to my car to drive to work, he immediately called to see what I was doing. That would be one of the more than 10 phone calls he would make to me today. The brown tiger is gone. I am alone. He is alone, too.
Riding to the bus, we talked about a mutual friend having a relationship issue. It’s fun to talk about other people’s issues. You always have such clarity in what they should do and equal clarity about what they will do. Lacking, as we do, many missing element. In the end, we mainly just hope our friend is happy with whatever the outcome will be.
It you’re a big fruit, established, own money, own place, own everything. The odds of you allowing someone totally into your life, allowing yourself to develop some since of dependency is probably not going to happen. Equality is a bunch of bullshit statements made by ugly woman. At least not on the same terms. TC relies on me more than I do for money and shelter. But I rely on him for emotional support, something I’m great at taking, but not giving. It’s not equality, its balance. I see this often in gay relationships. They want, but they can’t give. The good news is, when it sticks, both partners are loath to let it go.
We are not broken up. In fact, I think it’s impossible to break us up. We like being together 24×7 and need no other entertainment. Yes, sparks fly, hairclips snap and claws arch and drama hangs constantly in the air. But we need each other, our love, companionship and sex boxes filled each day (twice on the weekends).
It’s now 9.30 p.m. and I’ve run out of things to do. The normal Tiger Cub night is now gone. I will try and enjoy my alone time.