Aug. 12th, 2007 01:08 am
An in-need friend
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muckefuckI feel like coming clean about an awkward moment late in the evening. Early on, we (Nuphy, Blondie, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
monshu, and I) took up seats in front of Buck's so we could watch the passing parade from the comfort of the shade and cups of watery gin. When I spotted Evil Santa coming towards us, I tried to sound the alarm, but no one took heed until he was upon us. No sooner had he disappeared into the bar then we began to talk about him.
A little background: Evil Santa is OWILGA. I met him ages ago and was hooked by his retiring shyness, perfectly spherical belly, and incredible covering of hair. The next time we ran into each other culminated in moments of pleasure at a hotel in Boystown. Regrets? Not at all. Blondie opined that he's happy he passed up on a number of orgasms in the past because, "I don't have to look at that person today and say, What was I thinking?". But I defended my dalliance, "I know exactly what I was thinking," I retorted, "and I don't regret it. He was a lot different back then." Then I milked it for humour: "Besides, he doesn't talk when you're doing it."
Nuphy demurred; he always thought Evil Santa was bad news. In the entire history of our relationship, he's the only friend he ever specifically asked me not to bring home. But take away the hormonal clouding of vision, and I still saw something different in him then. I felt that we were at similar stages of our lives and had similar romantic challenges. Of course Nuphy, being twice my age, never shared that. So it was a sad moment when, sitting apart from ES on a crowded bus one Bear Pride, I realised he'd become the person people move to be away from. Who knows how? It was also around the time when, my love life finally sorted, I felt we didn't have much in common anymore. As the saying goes, we'd grown apart. From my self-satisfied vantage point, I feel I've grown up but he's still living the same marginal, chaotic existence he always has.
Ironically, Blondie had been commenting on our 13-year friendship earlier that day, questioning how we'd held it together for so long, and I told him, "I've learned that there are two kinds of friends: Contact friends and friends-for-life." So I was startled when, at the end of evening, Evil Santa took me aside and told me that--even though we rarely see each other any more--he still considers me a "good friend". It felt like, as Margaret Cho puts it, that moment "when you realise that the relationship is over, but only you know." But there's no humour to being in that place, only tragedy verging on farce.
monshu, and I) took up seats in front of Buck's so we could watch the passing parade from the comfort of the shade and cups of watery gin. When I spotted Evil Santa coming towards us, I tried to sound the alarm, but no one took heed until he was upon us. No sooner had he disappeared into the bar then we began to talk about him.A little background: Evil Santa is OWILGA. I met him ages ago and was hooked by his retiring shyness, perfectly spherical belly, and incredible covering of hair. The next time we ran into each other culminated in moments of pleasure at a hotel in Boystown. Regrets? Not at all. Blondie opined that he's happy he passed up on a number of orgasms in the past because, "I don't have to look at that person today and say, What was I thinking?". But I defended my dalliance, "I know exactly what I was thinking," I retorted, "and I don't regret it. He was a lot different back then." Then I milked it for humour: "Besides, he doesn't talk when you're doing it."
Nuphy demurred; he always thought Evil Santa was bad news. In the entire history of our relationship, he's the only friend he ever specifically asked me not to bring home. But take away the hormonal clouding of vision, and I still saw something different in him then. I felt that we were at similar stages of our lives and had similar romantic challenges. Of course Nuphy, being twice my age, never shared that. So it was a sad moment when, sitting apart from ES on a crowded bus one Bear Pride, I realised he'd become the person people move to be away from. Who knows how? It was also around the time when, my love life finally sorted, I felt we didn't have much in common anymore. As the saying goes, we'd grown apart. From my self-satisfied vantage point, I feel I've grown up but he's still living the same marginal, chaotic existence he always has.
Ironically, Blondie had been commenting on our 13-year friendship earlier that day, questioning how we'd held it together for so long, and I told him, "I've learned that there are two kinds of friends: Contact friends and friends-for-life." So I was startled when, at the end of evening, Evil Santa took me aside and told me that--even though we rarely see each other any more--he still considers me a "good friend". It felt like, as Margaret Cho puts it, that moment "when you realise that the relationship is over, but only you know." But there's no humour to being in that place, only tragedy verging on farce.
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