Where Am I

If I read this shit right, it’s been almost two years since I wrote. Which even by my standards, is impressively remiss. Ok, so, to cover what I’ve been up to, here’s the bullet-points:

• I left the flat I shared with a friend and traveled to a completely different part of the UK to be on stage for a while (not in anything you’ll have heard of), and stayed in that different part of the UK. BUT I couldn’t find anywhere affordable in that part of the UK, so I ended up living with the christian friend I had back at uni that I had feelings for (although when I moved in with him, I actually hated him a bit at first, because his trans partner made him out to be garbage – all of which later proved beyond doubt to be false. They’re now back together, too, but the christian friend feels trapped because the partner makes him feel like any attempts to leave will be met with heavy emotional blackmail, if not worse).
• After my stage appearance, I finally accepted that I’m not well enough to work. And medical professionals and the government and anyone who knows me agree that I am not fit for work. For a brief window, I was in a terrible relationship with someone who made me afraid to talk to my friends, which luckily ended in time, after much crying into christian friend’s chest, which he graciously tolerated. I’m going to call him Crumpetflakes to make this all easier to follow.
• After a while, he got a job at a better company, which meant he had to move to a different city. I did not want to go to a different city, and we both knew his partner (who I am wary of, since it’s not just Crumpetflakes who gets shit from that corner) would move in with him soon enough, so I had to find somewhere else to live.
• I couldn’t. But I didn’t want to tell him that, as I’d feel like I was making my incompetence his problem. So earlier this year, I was without a permanent address. I lived in a hostel for a bit, moved around on Airbnb, all trailing a huge suitcase of my possessions with me. Yeah, it was interesting, but also, it sucked, because nobody wants to let you stay if they know you’ve got nowhere else to go. So I had to be a bit cautious there, but now I have a proper place to live, and also, a dog!

Things are steadier now than they’ve been for a long time. I should be happy, or at least, happier than I am. But I miss sharing the flat with Crumpetflakes. We got used to each others’ rhythms, we always had someone to sing with (we sang a lot – mostly unrepeatable versions of classics, with a lot more genital references than Andrew Lloyd-Webber had originally envisioned, perhaps…). When shit hit the fan, we had someone there; I had someone to remind me that not everyone on the planet is terrible, and a reason to wash myself and eat dinner and clean up, he had someone to remind him that he has a right to feel valued by his partner, and that it is the 21st century and show him how to do his eyeliner right. Knowing that we’ll never live together again makes me sad. I’m very happy that he has found the person he hopes to spend his life with, and I’m happy that he seems to be happy enough, but I still worry. And I don’t know how to stop worrying, or at least, stop missing him, or get rid of this weird ache I’ve had for a while now. I mean, I’m mostly fine it’s like the background noise of a humming fridge that you don’t even notice eventually but, every so often when my dog looks at me like it knows I’m lying (that’s definitely projection, this dog doesn’t even grasp that my groin isn’t secretly full of ham slices or what the words “STOP!” or “SLOW DOWN YOU’RE PULLING MY ARM OUT IT’S SOCKET!” or “NO! THAT’S NOT EVEN YOUR OWN POO!” mean) and I just get a bit…pathetic. I try to focus on the upside; it only would have been worse if we’d lived together longer, and at least now I can live more to my own schedule and only clear up after myself, and not have to listen to the horrific noises he makes when he’s shagging someone. The dog smells less intensely than his weird soap, and probably humps less indiscriminately too, but I guess as human beings we get attached to animals of all kinds, even the biped homosapien ones; and often, the more we initially object to any individual, the more we ultimately end up missing them when they go.

So, I suppose I should feel great, or at least, pretty decent. Maybe once my place is fully sorted (with EVERYTHING working, not just, most things half-working and some things not at all), or maybe when I get more into the rhythms here, or when I feel I can write more, things will improve. For now, I’m still…pretty lost, I guess. Well, I know where I’m trying to go more than I did, which is a start. And I know it’s only a matter of time until I feel relieved to be somewhere new-ish, without anyone else to worry about. Autumn’s coming along, and that’s one of the better seasons. Maybe now I can actually remember to write this thing more often, too!