All my reason and defenses desert me when a cute boy with an English accents takes a fancy to me. I crumble under the advances of those from London. And especially when he is nice, polite, kind. Definitely marriage material. But he lives in London. But then I guess I'll just have to go visit him.
A large party ensued this weekend. It was titled M.E.A.T. and themed military. I went in with the notion that I was just as good as any other there. Confidence is always a mandatory accessory at any gay function. I also viewed the situation that I was going to just have a good time. And I did have a good time. What I think or how I tell myself to perceive the situation is working. I met a few nice people last night. And briefly fell in love with a boy from England.
My poor roommate is on the verge of a breakdown. But I'm strong enough for both of us right now. He needs help. He has been used and abused. He needs to learn confidence. I'm not much of a teacher in that sense, since I'm a student myself. But I am further along than him. I want him to see himself as the great person that he is.
We are going to work out together, and since I can talk to pretty much anything that has lips (thanks to the mission), I will take him out and introduce him to my friends, and help him learn to talk to other people, not just close friends. He's very shy. I think I'll call him Eliza, and just call me Higgins.
My current interest introduced me to a friend of his. He is like god. Very cute, body formed after Apollo's, and nice. Very nice. And he is rather interesting to talk to. I looked at my interest in comparison to this new boy. My interest is older, not a body of stone, and not quite as good looking. Sometimes hard to talk to. But I still would have taken him given the choice. I don't know what he has that draws me to him. I want to live inside his soul.
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