Tonight I watched "A Single Man", a film which, despite the utter pretension of Tom Ford, succeeded in the way any good film should, in that it actually made elicited emotion from me. It didn't really make me feel sad, but it did make me feel...or rather, it made me remember how I felt when I was seeing this guy Matt.
There have been posts where I have eluded to this guy, but never really directly (I have a vague superstition that writing about a relationship on here will somehow doom it); now it's totally beyond the point, since it ended back in mid-January. But I kinda miss him. Actually, I really fucking miss him.
Here's a quick back story: we met in a bar last June, I was drunk but in a jovial mood, among friends, and decided I wanted to make out with a guy and he just happened to be standing near me, he was cute and I put my tongue in his mouth, and we ended up back and my place and, well, "romance" and shit, or what passes for it in these modern times ensued.
It was never a perfect relationship, but on some level it worked, despite his being 7 years my junior and still in that questioning phase; but we clicked nonetheless - we grew up in same suburb(s), both studied film at the same school and both, just...I dunno, CLICKED in that indescribable way that people sometimes do.
It didn't last long the first time around. Maybe 6 weeks or so, and this was at the peak of last summer's heat wave, where it was uncomfortable to sleep next to each other in my un-air-conditioned apartment. This was also when I was working nearly everyday for World Cup, and thus there were many times I couldn't join him and his friends to do fun things like concerts.
I honestly don't remember how it ended, probably because the "relationship" we had was so casual to the point of not being one. Months went by until we reconnected again back in November. Oddly, there was never any discussion about what went wrong, we literally picked up where it left off like nothing happened.
In some ways the second go around was better; we knew more of what to expect and we both had been bruised with other attempts at relationships; maybe it's folly to assume we were "safe ports" for one another, but I'll accept that. Sometimes all you need is a familiar (and in his case handsome) face to make shit right, if only for a short time.
The last time I saw him was early January; I was leaving for work while he slept in my bed, and I kissed him goodbye. That last image of him, those big sleepy brown eyes looking at me paired with his mischievous smile...[feel free to puke now!]...and him turning back over to sleep more while I quietly closed the door behind me.
There's not really a point to this post; I could analyze my feelings for him then and now, but it really doesn't matter. I'll probably never see him again, let alone hear his voice. And in a way, maybe that's for the best. Out time together was a pleasure, but it always seemed like it was a fight to make it work.
I wish him the best. Sigh.
