[Recording conversation for future chapters]

“I have, and Guin agrees she has too, created my own set of rules for my life…and stuck to them.  But my boyfriend has no rules.  He believes that it’s okay for him to be polyamorous but he wants all of his girlfriends to be monogamous only to him, there when he needs them.”

“You wondered why my boyfriend made a big throat-clearing sound when you mentioned the redhead?  She used to be his girlfriend.  It just didn’t work out.  Didn’t stop her from coming to my birthday party.  You remember how she sat upfront, trying to get attention the whole time.  Well, Kirby was curious about how many people my boyfriend had slept with, pointing to one woman after another, Guin saying ‘Yes’ over and over.  As the redhead walked behind Kirby, he said out loud, ‘Sounds to me like Bai’s boyfriend has fucked every girl in this room!’  That ended things completely for the redhead.”

“You know the woman who usually takes the money at the club?  She has an emotional attachment, a ‘text relationship,’ with my boyfriend.  When she found out he was going back to France, she took it personally, asking why he was leaving her.  He leads her on without knowing it, or at least not acknowledging it.  He keeps saying that he will have time for her later and doesn’t want to end their friendship before they become lovers.”

“Two months ago, I finally realised that I am truly polyamorous.  My friends were shocked that I didn’t already know.”

“Why did I get divorced?  I had an affair because I knew but didn’t know I was polyamorous and needed more than my husband’s love.  He had an affair just to get back at me.  He left me and then he came back.  Did it twice.  The second time I got pregnant and had a miscarriage.  It pretty much ended our marriage.”

“George, my flat mate in a month, broke up with his girlfriend a few minutes ago.  She went to get beer to try to make it up to him.  She just saw me walk out of the flat and dropped the beer on the sidewalk.  She started crying that she had no place to go.  She’d have to get a hotel room because she didn’t want to move back in with her parents.  She said she would come back for her things after she cleaned up the beer.”

“She was only living with him for three weeks and had already brought her Crock Pot to the flat.  Now that’s love!”

“She spent 15 minutes writing that goodbye note.  Can you believe it?”

“The girl was crazy.  Sure, she worked in the media office on the military base, reporting straight to the highest-ranking female general in the Army.  But I’m telling you, she was crazy.  We’d been friends for two years and only become lovers a few weeks ago.  She starting talking about marriage, kids…wanted to know where I was going all the time.  I couldn’t take it.  If I want to go next-door and sleep overnight at my friend’s place, that’s my business, you know?”

The Corner of Sadness and Lonely

Imagine, for a moment, my fist held up high, arm bent at the elbow and slapping the palm of my other hand on the biceps of the upheld arm.

That is my message to the .pl-based spammers.

I will not go away quietly!

= = = = =

On another note, I am not my blog.

In a world of analysing subcultural trends to figure out how and what will be said by whom when, there is the other side of life.

Me, the little five or ten year young boy, staring wide-eyed at the world, wondering what I’m supposed to do in this adult body, with grownup decisions to make.


Be a man, right?  Suck it up.  Every family faces tough decisions and keep them from the light of the public eye.

But I am also a writer, a journalist, at heart, if not by trade, a hobby craftsman putting these symbols together for personal and perhaps species-level entertainment.

Maybe a little enlightenment, too.

I haven’t fully recovered from the loss of my dear mother in-law and now this?

Live and learn.

Pain goes away eventually, one way or another.

The lesson today is family trumps politics every time.

Details will wait another day to be pulled out of the emotional wreck I am at this moment and scratched onto this virtual slate.

Quiet and solitude will suffice.  Peace is a word, a blurry image barely discernable.

Sitting here, perplexed, not quite dejected, on the corner of Sadness and Lonely, pushing aside pride and other feelings that a person like me is supposed to personify in the image of a MAN.

Willing to cry…today, that is enough.  Words from a rational viewpoint will have to wait.

…today?…is “today” a real world?  I don’t know.  It doesn’t sound right.  Where’s my hardback edition of Encyclopedia Britannica to resolve the matter logically?