The coffee shop has a different dynamic of a Saturday night. I somehow didn't think that it would be crowded on a Saturday night in Manhattan. After all, you would think this would be the night when everyone in Manhattan was out partying or meeting with friends. Ah, but then you wouldn't be considering that everyone in Manhattan needs somewhere to meet those friends, would you? Well, I didn't.
Everyone in the coffee shop has a story. Like that really rather cute young guy I was writing about yesterday, who I had a whole fantasy affair with before his boyfriend and his real life arrived to tear it to shreds. The thing about fantasy is that no one can hurt you in your fantasies - unless they're my fantasies, where I allow people to hurt me, but I always have a great comeback.
There are all sorts of people here - all sorts of people who have all sorts of stories. Like the cute guy, whose boyfriend came in complaining about his health club - something having to do with the shampoo and conditioner combo they offered. And the cute guy responded that the boyfriend was lucky, 'cuz at Bally's, the shampoo and conditioner were one and the same.
This is what I aspire to... the banal. I think the banal is seriously underrated. I think that there's a joy to be taken in the ordinary, the unexciting. The Sunday morning spent wrapped up in each other's arms, not wanting to get out of bed. The quiet moment sharing coffee at the kitchen table. Those are the things I wish for. I don't miss the constant round of friends together, or the dates - not that Gavan and I ever really had the chance to date, with him off on the road and our relationship developing long distance - but the quiet moments we got to share... the time watching television when the television wasn't an excuse for not talking, but was just a diversion we shared quietly.
I think, when I see and talk to Gavan and I have the sort of achey nostalgia I have, it's that that I'm missing - not Gavan himself. For it only takes a little contemplation of Gavan himself to remember that our relationship was flawed, and I still have a lot of unresolved anger - nothing serious, nothing that isn't lessening with time. It's the idea of being in love with which I'm in love - which can't bode well for future loves. 'Cuz they're going to be real people as well. They're going to be flesh and blood and flawed... and that's something I'm going to have to deal with.
Everyone in the coffee shop has a story. Like that really rather cute young guy I was writing about yesterday, who I had a whole fantasy affair with before his boyfriend and his real life arrived to tear it to shreds. The thing about fantasy is that no one can hurt you in your fantasies - unless they're my fantasies, where I allow people to hurt me, but I always have a great comeback.
There are all sorts of people here - all sorts of people who have all sorts of stories. Like the cute guy, whose boyfriend came in complaining about his health club - something having to do with the shampoo and conditioner combo they offered. And the cute guy responded that the boyfriend was lucky, 'cuz at Bally's, the shampoo and conditioner were one and the same.
This is what I aspire to... the banal. I think the banal is seriously underrated. I think that there's a joy to be taken in the ordinary, the unexciting. The Sunday morning spent wrapped up in each other's arms, not wanting to get out of bed. The quiet moment sharing coffee at the kitchen table. Those are the things I wish for. I don't miss the constant round of friends together, or the dates - not that Gavan and I ever really had the chance to date, with him off on the road and our relationship developing long distance - but the quiet moments we got to share... the time watching television when the television wasn't an excuse for not talking, but was just a diversion we shared quietly.
I think, when I see and talk to Gavan and I have the sort of achey nostalgia I have, it's that that I'm missing - not Gavan himself. For it only takes a little contemplation of Gavan himself to remember that our relationship was flawed, and I still have a lot of unresolved anger - nothing serious, nothing that isn't lessening with time. It's the idea of being in love with which I'm in love - which can't bode well for future loves. 'Cuz they're going to be real people as well. They're going to be flesh and blood and flawed... and that's something I'm going to have to deal with.
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