As much as I enjoy having my nights out, waking up (relatively) fresh on a Sunday morning is such an amazing feeling. The weed haze that typically greets me after a night of blazing was pretty minimal and faded fairly quickly. I was in a good mood! I’m happy that I stayed in last night.

Remaining true to what I wrote before bed, I flushed my weed today. I did it as soon as I got out of bed and sat down for my morning pee. I also cleaned my pipe and put it out of reach. I’m making a personal pact to go as long as I can without smoking weed. I’m going to do it!

Today day was pretty relaxed. My foot is on the mend. I should be good to run again tomorrow, but I wasn’t quite there today. Three days off has been killing me. A lack of exercise makes me freak out about food, which only results in more eating because I’m stressed. I’m not burning those extra 1,000+ calories a day anymore. I know it’s going to fuck me over.

I made myself breakfast, did some work/organizing, and even managed to get in some floor exercises. 1,000 sit-ups and 65 push-ups, to be exact. I also spontaneously decided to clean my entire apartment because – I’m adulting?

Once all of that was finished, I finally made it out of the Witch Cave. I wanted to go for a casual walk around the city today. After checking out COS to see if they had any cute outfits for Ashley’s wedding next month, I continued walking on Bloor West until I reached the new Chipotle at Bathurst Street. Lucky for me, it had just opened today. I stuffed my hog body with a burrito, and continued on my way. I stopped again after a couple of blocks, this time to spend way too much money on ice cream.

I enjoy my walks. Today’s adventure was a little different from my usual stroll, because I didn’t have anywhere to be. I was just wandering. It’s nice to do it in your own city. Just thinking about life, about boys, ideas, beliefs, and obviously some people watching. It’s a good way to clear my head. Despite looking like Gollum, dragging my busted foot behind me, I felt pretty good.

I miss a lot of people. I’ve been so damn nostalgic lately. It’s slightly annoying, actually. The memories just won’t go away. I don’t want them to disappear altogether, but I also don’t want to be constantly reminded of every date I’ve been on. Or the restaurants I used to visit with RX. Or the places I took Logan to. How can I forget it all – without forgetting it all? Are we supposed to just take what we want from our experiences and throw the rest away? If so, how do we do that? My mind and memory are beginning to feel a little overpopulated.

With my foot hurting more and more with each step, I continued limping until I reached the parking garage. I took the car to the Witch Cave and relaxed for about half an hour, then went over to Bryan’s. He’s leaving for an acting gig in British Columbia tomorrow and will be away for another week, so I went over to watch a movie. I brought a bottle of wine with me.

Despite six years’ worth of dating under my belt, I consistently fail to remember that, “Come over and watch a movie,” does not mean, “Come over and watch a movie.” Well, fuck! I wanted to watch Tom Hanks’ The Seventies documentary series on CNN! Instead, Bryan put on some lame Meryl Streep and Alec Baldwin movie, which we barely watched before the making out started. I knew all hope of a documentary night was gone after I came out of the bathroom. Bryan had turned off the TV and was playing music in his bedroom. Damn it.

Here’s the thing – Bryan is a bad kisser. I can’t even describe it. First of all, getting Bryan to open his mouth is like trying to crack open a fucking clam. Unfortunately, I didn’t bring a crowbar with me tonight. Second, I want tongue. I don’t care if that’s not everybody’s thing. It’s my thing. I like it, I want it, and Bryan barely gives it to me. It’s like I’m kissing a baby bird sometimes. I’m just, like, “Make out with me! Kiss me!” I was beginning to get annoyed with Bryan’s pecking, so I decided to speed things up. I removed all of our clothes. From there, things finally began to move along.

Listen. It’s not “bad.” I shouldn’t say that. Bryan has a nice package, a great body, and our sexual encounters are far from the worst I’ve ever experienced. Still, it’s not the best. Definitely not. While Bryan was giving me head tonight, I reached down and he was fucking soft. Goddamn it. To make matters infinitely worse, I made the mistake of commenting on his flaccid member. Obviously, that embarrassed him. Even though Bryan said that he could get it up again in five-seconds, it was a good twenty minutes before he was back at full mast. Even then, that was only because I had told him to calm down and stop trying to light a fire with his vigorous masturbating.

I wanted to have sex tonight. I really, really wanted to have sex, and I thought that I was making myself very clear with Bryan. I never outright said anything – which was obviously the problem – but I was sure that my blatant body language would have communicated my burning desire to have Bryan penetrate my backside. At a certain point in our foreplay, one wrong pelvic thrust from Bryan would have landed him inside of me anyway.

Naturally, Bryan didn’t pick up on my hints. He ended up coming on my ass again, as I straddled him and returned the favor on his chest. Unfortunately, that seems to be the way every “movie night” ends. What is this now? Seven weeks? I thought we would have moved past this by now.

Afterwards, Bryan and I talked for a long time in his bed. Now, that’s something I actually enjoy. Pillow talk. Bryan is a good guy. I’ve had encounters with some of the lowest creatures on the Scum Scale, and Bryan is far above any of those assholes. I don’t want that to get lost in all of my negativity.

Bryan listens to me. He accepts me for who I am. Overall, Bryan is a really great person. However, he’s not my soulmate. I can feel it when I talk to him. There’s just this indescribable piece that’s missing. Maybe it’s got something to do with me not fully letting him in. I don’t think it is, though. I don’t think it’s something that I can provide. It’s just that the guy either gets me, or he doesn’t. Unfortunately, for both Bryan and myself, that link – that connection – is missing. I don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse that Bryan travels so much. The constant time apart is basically just buying me time to break things off with him.

I didn’t want to go over to Bryan’s tonight. Sometimes, I even get annoyed when he messages me. I don’t want to be with Bryan much longer, but I don’t know how to end things in the least negative way. The way that will result in the most amicable relationship possible.

To be fair, I ended up enjoying my time with Bryan this evening. I typically do. But, there’s definitely a large part of me that’s just going through the motions. Not just with the physical stuff, but with the relationship in general. I’m constantly trying to fill the void left by Logan.

I thought about Logan a lot on my walk today. What would I say to him if he ever contacted me again? Here’s what I came up with:

“I would have done anything for you. You meant so much to me, and you treated me like garbage. I don’t deserve that, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I don’t understand why you treated me the way you did, but I know that there’s nothing I did that would have deserved this treatment.”

I thought about Logan while on the couch with Bryan tonight. I thought about Logan when Bryan poured me a glass of wine. While Bryan and I were “watching a movie.” While we were on Bryan’s bed. Listening to music, making out, being intimate, talking afterwards – all the fucking time. It’s like I’m living a recurring nightmare where the only character is Logan. I need an exorcism.

I have work early tomorrow morning. Bryan has an early flight, so I went home around midnight. Thank God. It meant I could finally let out all of the fucking farts I had been holding in.

I’m tired. And bloated. And the middle part I tried on my hair today is clearly not the change I am looking for. Maybe I’ll find a piece of my puzzle this week.

Goodnight xo