Uhhh sorry about that last entry, Alex barged into the room and I… kinda had to go lol But I guess everything worked out in the end, so that’s good.

I’m really tired and jet-lagged. What I’m writing might not make any sense, but I still want to get my thoughts down on paper before I forget them because it’s kind of important.

I don’t know if I really want to write out all the details because it’s embarrassing to reflect back on, and I probably won’t ever forget that. Overall though, I guess it’s safe to say Alex gave me the best hand job of my life and I cried. (Yeah. It was that good, diary, deal with it, at least I’m getting some, you sneaky voyeur.)

It’s so weird though, because it’s like ever since I arrived I was stressed out about messing up and not being good enough—and about Alex hating me for being late on the first day… But since we had that moment together, I don’t know, something changed.

I don’t want to say sex fixes everything because that’s just a weird trashy movie trope, but it did fix something for me, in a sense? I feel wanted now, more than before, and that’s nice. It’s really nice. And all the tension I felt is gone, too. It’s like I can just relax, and be myself, without wondering if he’s still into me or not.

It’s difficult to explain because, well, nothing is different. But like… everything is different at the same time??

…Am I even making any sense? I don’t know. It’s, well… Alex would flinch and the abort ship each time it looked like things would go further between us before this, and I’d always have this thought afterwards where I’d be like: did he realize he’s not actually attracted to me, or does he think he’ll necessarily have to get naked too if we do stuff together, you know?

I asked him about it when we woke up for a bit (there was a door slamming because of a storm outside and a window we forgot to close, fucking annoying I swear). Alex told me he thought I’d take it badly if he mentioned wanting to keep his clothes on, and that was… hard to deal with. I didn’t and still don’t really care about the clothes on thing, to be honest—if it makes him more comfortable, cool. What hurt me more was that I apparently looked like I could have been that type of guy in his eyes.

…Yeah, I dunno. I think I should sleep some more. We’re going to eat out at some fancy restaurant tonight and I don’t want to faint in my soup or cry again.

Bye bye byeeeeeeeeee!!!!!

zZZzzzZZzzzZzzzz

***

Friend,

This is going to be a bit of a long one, however, I’m afraid I cannot summarize the events that went down today without explaining everything. I’m sorry if some words might not be written as perfectly as they usually are, my hands are still shaking, and it’s cold where I am.

I’m doing my best to hold back my tears, at least, so that I do not leave this paper crinkled and stained.

It was during the early evening that David and I put on our shoes and left our apartment. David seemed a little jumpier than usual, but I paid it no heed. After all, I assumed he would tell me if something was wrong.

Hadn’t we always been open with each other?

…No, perhaps that’s not exactly right. I suppose we were open with each other, yet, it was online for the most part, or in dire situations. We had rarely been like this—casually standing next to each other in the street, on a real date—and I’ve no clue if David also felt the strange pressure I did back there, but to me, it felt like a wall had been built between us: one that was invisible, untouchable, yet very much there. And I realized, that we forgot. We did not know, how to be normal with each other. We knew how to be sexual, how to be sad, but normal—just existing side by side—had not been on the menu up until today. And I don’t want to accuse him of hiding things from me. There were mundane instances where I did not speak of things that I should have out loud, too. I cannot blame him. I only wish that he hadn’t ended up at the ER because of our failure to communicate…

As we walked, I held his hand. His skin was warm. He told me it was nice that winter was coming around, because if this had been summer, his palm surely would have been sweaty. “And that’s gross,” David said.

I told him, “I don’t think it would be gross if it were you on the other side of that hand.” There was a slight pause, where he stared at me as if I had found all the answers to the wonders of the universe. After that, David kissed me, and mumbled, “Thank you.”

In this moment in time, I still do not know what he thanked me for; still, I told him he was welcome.

The streetlights came to life, they illuminated the threat of dusk with yellow and orange orbs that reminded me of will-o'-wisps in Halloween stories I’d read long ago. I think we had a talk about this, I’m not really sure anymore. The day doesn’t feel real, and neither does this situation.

Someone is calling me, I need to go. I’m sorry, friend, I wanted to write more, but David needs me right now.

I’ll try to check in soon.

Thank you for listening to me.

Yours,

Alexander