The BDE is strong in this one.
In the spirit of my birthday and the dreaded milestone of 40 today I’m curling up under the covers and not coming out until tomorrow. I have been hating the thought of this birthday for the last 6 months and now that it’s here I see why. Fuck turning 40 and thinking well what have I accomplished in 40 years and the answer being sweet FA. My mum did point out the fact that I’m still standing and smiling (at least to the outside world but not even she sees my darkest moments) after all the health issues and operations is something to celebrate and that I’m stronger than I know. I suggested it’s mere stubbornness rather than strength. But if one more well intentioned friend tells me I’m over the hill now I swear I’ll be rolling their decapitated head down the hill. I’ve accepted all the haply 40th messages with good grace but over the hill? No. (Plus that would mean I’ve walked up it and unless there’s a bar or the great Dusty Martin at the top of the hill that’s highly unlikely.)
“You don’t stop loving someone just because you hate them.”
— Hanif Kureishi, Intimacy and Midnight All Day: A Novel and Stories
True. But oh wouldn’t it be easier if we did?
I got bored the other week and decided to go back to revisit the cesspool of SKOUT.
Maybe I’m old fashioned but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with a bit of banter (and given my profile said I was a serial killer you’d expect some response to that). And I was pretty turned off by his reaction as well as the wanting to be told his looks are good and the fact it took him just over 20 minutes to ask for sex. I unmatched then. Admittedly I use tinder to have some cool chats or find some fuckboys to troll but still. Ugh.
How's your night going.
“Why is it so difficult to forgive myself for something you did?”
— i’m sorry for being close enough for you to hurt me