Strangers

Do you know what it's like to be in love?

I used to think I did.

That sense of security, that feeling of appreciation, knowing that there's someone out there who means the world to you.

Someone you can share yourself with completely, who knows every inch of your body like the back of their hand, who can sense what you're thinking with a mere touch of their fingertips.

But as the saying goes, 'all good things must come to an end'.

So what of falling out of love? Is it even possible?

Did I even love him in the first place, or was it a ghastly prank my consciousness was playing on me?

Do I even know what love is?

Some would tell me I'm foolish to think I'd find true love so young.

But what is 'true love', anyway?

Is it a long-term, committed relationship, in which there is one person who you would love to spend all of your time with? Who makes you feel right when you're with them, no matter what, and hurts when you see them go?

Because I've been there, and despite the giddy feelings, it ain't all smiles and sunshine.

Who says love was built to last?

In my recent bachelor status, I've danced with many a gentleman in the dark underground lairs where we all congregate in the hope of finding 'love'.

And while I'm far from finding anything with the solidarity of my previous 'love', I'm finding my experiences no less aesthetically pleasing, exciting to the senses.

Who says 'true love' can't be stumbled upon and appreciated amongst the sweat and glitter?

When all is said and done, what is the difference between a short-lived moment of passion and energy, and the strung-out emotions of a relationship.

Really, who says you can't fall in love for a night?

"once upon a time there was light in my life

now there's only love in the dark" - Total Eclipse of the Heart, Bonnie Tyler

Values

Last night, whilst tucking into my KFC, I received an anonymous phone call.

I thought it might be a job of some sort calling, so I didn't think twice before answering.

The following conversation ensued...

Me: "Hello?"

Caller: ...

Me: "Hello?"

Caller: "... Is this Robert?"

Me: "Yes."

Caller: "... You're a faggot."

Me: "Um... yeah, cool?"

Caller: "No, it's not cool. There's something wrong with you."

I tried to think of something witty to come back with, but I decided there wasn't much point and I couldn't be bothered, so I just hung up.

Okay, so God knows I've had my fair share of gay rants.

I have no idea who the caller was; it was a man with a heavy Mediterranean accent, but it was no one person whose voice I could recognise.

I just don't understand what calling me up and reminding that I'm gay would achieve, for anyone.

No doubt he had a bunch of other dim witted remarks up his sleeve, but that's beside the point.

It's really sad that in this day and age there are guys out there who have to reaffirm their masculinity by randomly harassing homosexuals.

It's taken me a little while, but I am completely comfortable with who I am, and who I have sex with, and frankly couldn't give a damn if somebody out there, or anybody for that matter, thinks it's "unnatural".

It's rude and utterly naive to deny someone of a way of life purely because it's not in complete alignment with your own life or your own beliefs.

Homophobia is slowing becoming a characteristic of the minority, thankfully, but it doesn't discount the fact that there still is that minority.

Being homosexual, I know what it's like to be part of a minority, and have your values challenged.

But our values are based on love.

Their values are based on hate.

We seek peace and co-operation in a civil society.

They want to destroy us.

And he thinks there's something wrong with me?

"oh, but one day you'll understand

a girl on your arm won't make you a man" - Bayside

Empathy

Today I had quite a surreal experience; something not too far from an epiphany, I believe.

In the true quirky nature of all things me, it happened while I was clothes shopping.

For quite some time, I've had an irrational fear of salespeople.

Every time I walked into a retail store, I waited for the inevitable "Hey, how's it going?", "Are you alright there?" or (my personal favourite) "Can I help you?"

I can't honestly say what caused me to have such unfounded fear - but I can take a guess.

As a child I had problems fitting in socially (some would say I still do), and I suppose I've always seen clothes and fashion as a means of conforming or fitting in; in a sense, being accepted.

I suppose I always thought these people who worked in clothes stores were 'cool' or 'trendy', since they knew how to fit into the social scheme of things. I felt they would inevitably be judging me as the social outcast who didn't know how to properly dress himself.

Some would argue today that I still don't know to dress myself, but I like to think I've picked up a tip or two about modern fashion.

Yet until today, I thought I still harboured the anxiety that was unleashed by friendly, over-enthusiastic salespeople.

Today, in a retail outlet whose name I shall not disclose, I was shopping for jeans.

Shopping for jeans is like choosing subjects for an Arts degree; the abundance of choice becomes almost overwhelming. I soon realised that, despite my terror of being approached by an employee, I actually did need help.

Ironically enough, not one of the salespeople in the store batted an eyelid my direction, let alone ask if I needed anything.

After standing awkwardly for a few minutes, next to the piles of jeans stacked high to the ceiling, I found myself approaching one of the staff to ask if I could use a changing room.

Tell me, what's wrong with this picture?

To my surprise, the woman simply replied "Sure", and continued with her business as though I'd asked her "Would you like fries with that?".

Too bad for her, I'm migrating out of the hospitality industry.

And I suppose my aim of getting into retail, somehow, has made me assess the role of a retail salesperson.

They should have the ability to recognise a customer who obviously has no idea what they're doing, and be able to offer them the required assistance.

The fact I was barely acknowledged as a person at all made me very irritated. I felt I could have done a better job at attended to a customer, even with my lack of retail experience (which is making it quite difficult to obtain employment in the area).

And with that realisation, it hit me.

I'd become what I had been terrified of for the better part of my adolescence.

Just the ambition of working in retail was enough to change me.

It was enough to change my entire outlook on those people and their abilities of empathy. And just people in general too, I suppose.

But then, a lot of people would probably say to me: "It's the perfect job for you; acting like you're friends with people in order to get their money".

Reason

There's something in the water, something in the air. I think the world is going crazy.

Watching the news last night, I felt utterly overwhelmed by the amount of violence, death and destruction that I saw.

From protests in Bangkok to a teenage girl being murdered by people she met over the Internet, it just seems humanity is currently stuck in this downward spiral.

Just tonight, I came home from a peaceful evening to find someone had upturned the garbage bins of about five or six houses, and knocked over the bins outside the townhouse in a Domino-effect style.

In an attempt to see myself as a citizen with some strain of moral fibre, I went about correcting the situation, but as I did so, couldn't help but grumble to myself and ask myself, "Why? What was the point of anybody doing that?"

(Not that I am equalling street vandalism to tragic violence; it's just part of a point that on a spectrum right from the catastrophic to the petty, people are going insane.)

Not all the craziness in man-made.

There's been some terrible accidents, one in particular that hit very close to home to a fair few people that I know. Yet in a similar fashion, I myself can't help but question, "Why? Why did that have to happen?"

Even my philosophy of 'everything happens for a reason' fails to give much comfort in situations like that.

Sometimes, knowing that is just not enough.

Sometimes, we need that reason.

"Turn on Channel 7 at a quarter to 8,

you see the same damn thing, it's just a different day

and no one really knows why this is happening" - Good Charlotte

Promises

I used to write blogs, and they used to be angry.
I don't know why I stopped. I guess I felt that I was above such petty behaviour.
However, recently, compared to other people, I suddenly don't feel so low any more.

I can't promise a lot of things.
I can't promise that I'd be the perfect boyfriend, or that I wouldn't annoy the shit out of you with my crazy expectations or love-sick motives.
I can't promise that I would still feel the same about anyone, in a day, a week, a month or year.
I can't promise I would treat your feelings with the utmost care, or that I would always put you first.
I can't promise I'll always be happy to see you.
I can't promise that things won't go wrong.
I can't promise that your heart will be unbroken from this point on.
I can't promise you that life won't get in the way
I can't promise that I will never make mistakes.
I can't promise that when I make those mistakes, that they would only have happened purely by accident.
I can't promise that I will be completely 100% faithful, no matter what the circumstances are.
But there is one thing I can promise you...

I will never lie to you.

No matter what I've done, no matter how much it hurts me, no matter how much it hurts you, no matter if it makes us strong or tears us apart, I will always tell you the truth.
When it comes to love, "I believe that trust is more important than monogamy".
If you can't be honest with me, you will never be able to be honest with yourself.
and that is the sad, pathetic truth in each and every situation.

I may be a fool for believing that, but in my opinion...
you're the bigger fool if you don't.



"I may dissect each little thing and put myself out there so much, but at least that means that I still care. Oh! You've think you won because women are expendable to you. You may not get hurt or make an ass of yourself that way, but you don't fall in love that way either. You have not won. You're alone. I may do a lot of stupid shit but I'm still a lot closer to love than you are."
- He's Just Not That Into You, 2009