alcohol – why?

The only reason I’m writing this down is because I’ve read somewhere that you should keep track of the things that happen to you. Even though nothing really exciting has happened tonight, I thought I should write something while I’m under alcoholic effects. The following post is rated M for the language.

I had a problem last week at college with this guy. I usually call him D. here, you probably have seen my posts about him before but, if you haven’t, don’t worry. You wouldn’t have missed anything important. Anyway, the thing is: there’s this event at college which is pretty important, it’s like a meeting with other college students in which all of them have to share their researches and thoughts and experiences to one another and also make presentations to the professors. We need to be guided by a professor and you need to submit your ideas before the presentation, because there are people who are going to analyze your “abstract” (the summary of your research) and say if you can present it or not. We have a deadline to submit our abstracts (we had, because it’s over now), and one of my teachers asked me to submit something, because she was going to be “my guide” and allow me to submit my ideas.

I was pretty excited about. This guy, D., he’s a really good friend of mine. I have made the mistake of getting to close to him without telling him I’m gay, and now I’m completely screwed because I know he’s not gay (yeah I’m sure about it, just don’t ask me how I know that because I could probably get arrested if I told you that) and I’m completely in love with him, like, head over heels for him. Since the first time we worked together, this professor keeps saying that we’re great together and that we can make awesome things as a team. Since that we’ve been inseparable. We were, actually, because since his wife started complaining about our friendship, we haven’t been so close anymore.

I’ll explain the whole situation: his wife is kinda obsessed with him, I cannot blame her. He’s beautiful, like really beautiful, and there are like 3,000 people hitting on him at the same time, trying to get him at any cost, women and men. All of them could kill to have him even if only for a night. And he’s not complaining about it. Actually, I’m pretty sure he likes that, because he can get whoever he wants just snapping his fingers. Well, who wouldn’t like that, to be honest? Well, long story short: she found out he was cheating on her, which I don’t know if it’s true (it is, probably). And she first thought that he was cheating on her with ME. And the reason behind this is that I kept sending him text messages and he always answered them. She thought that we had some kind of code to talk with each other in a way she wouldn’t understand. She even sent me hateful messages through Facebook, saying I was destroying her marriage and that her husband had become a terrible guy after meeting me.

I got upset, of course, not only because she was saying those nasty things to me, but mostly because those things weren’t true. I wish they were, though. I wish we have had and affair and lots of secret meetings just to share some kisses, but we didn’t! Unfortunately, we’re just friends and that’s how it is, and how it will always be. So I think I’m ready to deal with this situation. It’s not the first time, actually. I’ve been in love with heterosexual guys before and it’s really hard not to get too attached because I’m a lonely person. Even harder is having to get over it. So, back to reality, D. and I, we are good friends. And good friends take care of each other, right? SO, even though I’m in love with him, I treat him like I treat my other friends: I give him presents, I buy him beer so we can talk, I write him emails and analysis about his writing (yeah, the fucker is also a writer, a pretty good one, by the way) and so much more stuff, and the most important thing: I don’t ask him to give me anything back. I don’t do this, but I’m not going to be hypocrite: it’s good to see people caring about you, so I know I would feel less shitty if D. showed, at least once, that he is worried about me as well.

The thing is: I asked him to help me with my abstracts. We were supposed to work on this project together, it was OUR project. We thought about that together and we made plans about that together. So I asked him to write something about it, some suggestions about the topics we were going to discuss. I needed to know that, otherwise I would end up doing the whole work alone and that wouldn’t be fair. So I gave him a copy of the guide we had received previously in that week and I told him our deadline to submit the abstracts was on September 10. I did that on September 4.

After that, he just vanished. He didn’t answer my phone calls, nor my text messages, nor my emails, nothing. On September 9, I was incredibly upset because we were running out of time and I couldn’t miss the deadline, and I hadn’t received anything from him yet. The projects were really important. We could have the chance to get a sponsorship to help us develop the whole thing. I’m broke. I don’t have a fix job, so this sponsorship would be my salvation. Long story short: I was freaking out.

On September 10, I couldn’t wait any longer. I tried to call him 5 times in a row. And after 2 hours, I did the same thing again. All my attempts went to his voice mail. I contacted my teacher to send her my abstracts and I put his name on them anyway. My teacher told me I shouldn’t have done that, but I said it was fine.

Then the worse happened.

While trying to submit my abstracts, my professor found problems with my personal information. She had to enter my ID number, and it wasn’t working. So she called me to tell me about the problem, and I got even more upset. I tried to call D. again, so he could give me his ID number and register my projects on his name [I could always put my name after the submission]. Of course he didn’t answer the damn phone. My professor then called the organizer of the event to inform him about the problem. He said he was going to fix it. And he did.

On the following morning. September 11.

It was too late.

I felt terrible. Like, my mind was like a TV, showing in slow motion all the things I’ve done to help D. . When it was time to show the things he had done to me, the TV froze. I was really REALLY sad. He was so proud to say “I never let you down” he didn’t even notice my angry face last Wednesday. He did notice it, but he ignored it. Yesterday he tried to talk to me, but I just couldn’t handle conversations. I was still trying to get over the fact that the things that are important to me are not necessarily important to somebody else. I know that everyone is going to let us down at some point, but knowing that doesn’t make it less painful.

Today we didn’t have classes. Our friend from Slovenia invited us to grab some beers and have some fun. After around the 5 round of beer, he started talking. He said that he had never let me down. I said that was true until last Tuesday. He gave me a puzzled look and started talking again. I wish I had recorded it. He said he was feeling bad for making me feel bad. He also said that he was going through lots of things with the end of his marriage but that he’s trying to make things work again now that he has a job and this another girl who’s completely in love with him after having her v-card taken by him. He also said that he wouldn’t mind if I just stepped out of his life and finished our friendship because he knew how fucked up his life was and how he can be a completely asshole. He also said he would appreciate it if I stayed, though.

Now I really feel like a stupid bastard. Not only the guy doesn’t give a shit about me, he also asked me to leave him alone. I said “NO”! I FUCKING SAID “NO”! I said I wasn’t leaving him because I liked him more than that. Again he gave me a puzzled look. Again he said thank you. Again I was too sad to say anything else. I just hugged him, and he didn’t hug me back.

I left them with a smile and went to take a bus. Once inside the bus, I started to cry. An old lady was sitting next to me. She took a tissue from her pursue and gave it to me:

– You look like somebody just broke your heart.

– Is that obvious?

– (laughs) Not really. But you wanna hear something interesting?

– You gave me a tissue. You can say whatever you want.

– Okay. Mosaics are made from broken pieces, but they are still works of art. And so are you.

She left right after saying that. It was really nice to hear that. I know she meant well. But moments like those never last right? Because, after all, works of art go to museums. Everybody can come inside the museum and see the works of art, but they are not allowed to touch them. They will permanently stay locked inside big or small rooms, and one day they will be forgotten.

Sorry for the long post and for all those stupid things written here. I don’t have anyone to talk about those things so I just write. That’s the only thing I can do right now even though I feel like a teenager.

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