It would seem that the deadliest traps in life are the ones you set for yourself. I’m parked in steaming Hong Kong, the place is crawling with tanned brown black haired boys who love white guys and with few white guys here, I’m the hit of the season. I took down my online profile, but that hasn’t stopped those who saved me from repeatedly contacting looking to get together. They don’t care if you’re married, partnered, looking for whatever, they just wanna get a sniff at you because inventories are limited.
On my side of the fence, I’m just lonely, I’m busy and actually tired, but there is something missing in my life. That something would be Scrappy. Much as he growls and does some of the most incredibly stupid things, he does keep my life interesting. Where is he you ask?
He is supposedly tending to his sick mother back in Toronto. His mother had fluid on her brain, it had impaired her ability to speak and walk. Clearly a 911 situation. Scrappy went home as a good little boy. The removed part of his mother’s skull (not sure how much) and she’s better at home, but the doctor’s remain unsure what caused this. Scrappy hates being back in his home bed and battles with his hapless father. His mother is, barring any complications, scheduled to see the doctor again mid-September. Taking care of his mother? His mother has 7 sisters who seem to constantly be in the house, cooking, cleaning, yelling at his hapless father. Scrappy hides in his room.
Scrappy is telling me he is unsure when he can return to Hong Kong probably not before the end of September. If they operate on his mother further, perhaps longer. He’s not working, not making any money, out with his friends, living life like a teenager.
His mother is not deathly ill now, but she had one relapse previously, so Scrappy is worried and wants to stay close. As an adult, I understand fully. But as a child (my 90% mode), I want him back in my doghouse lapping up my attention. For the life of my relationship, Scrappy has always been leaving me (Toronto, New York, London, cruise ship), I’m always saying good bye with no clear return date. I recognize that when we are together it’s nearly 24×7. He didn’t so much sneeze in Sydney without me knowing about it. Still.
It’s not the sexual temptation that’s my problem. It’s the lack of attention. I am needy. OK – I said it out loud. You fruits all happy now right? I am a needy man with Asian snackie toys circling my feet, it’s not a good combo.
I’m not getting any younger, my mousing days may well end suddenly and I won’t have a mouse. Then WTF do I do?