Hanging in there…

Is the best I can do right now. My man is four thousand miles away and I miss him terribly. I’m keeping busy with work, theatre and pet-sitting. Still though, the time is crawling for me. I share a bed with him regularly enough that it kind of bugs me to sleep alone. Didn’t take long really. As I said I’m a hopelessly terminal romantic. I’m hanging in there but it’s still eating at me somewhat.

We’re talking regularly and texting, to be sure. It’s just hard when you want to feel someone’s touch and you just can’t. My stagehand gig is starting to heat up and naturally I’m happy about that. It gives me something else to think about.

There’s something about this Man. Something eccentric and wonderfully exciting. He sets my every molecule ablaze with feral delight. He’s so much sweeter and kinder than any of my other boyfriends were. I never knew another man could make me feel this amazing and alive.

I’ve often thought of myself as bisexual but homoemotional. I always wanted this level of romance with a boyfriend but could never find it. I’ve cared for and deeply loved my girlfriends but… I couldn’t ever seem to be what they needed.

Le sigh. Eight more days until the return of my Man. I’ll do my best to not go berserk.

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