Ashton and I woke up around 8:30 a.m. Or, at least, I pretended to wake up. In reality, I had already been up for an hour.

Despite this poor Airbnb girl having a really comfortable bed and sheet set, last night was one of those moments where you’re just not super comfortable sleeping in someone else’s bed – or with someone you don’t know that well. Sometimes, it works out well. Other times, it doesn’t. This time, all I wanted was to be in my own bed, where I could fart in peace. Goddamn you, Trader Joe’s Fiberful Granola Bars!

Also, let’s just talk about this poor Airbnb girl for one more second. This is why I will never Airbnb my own apartment. Can you imagine random people having sex in your bed? Or sitting naked on your furniture? Or even just touching your things? Last night, as I shoved a throw pillow under my back to put me in a better position for penetration, I thought about how mortified I would be if someone used my Crate & Barrel pillows for something like that. $60 a night is not nearly enough money to cover the therapy I – or my pillows – would need to recover from such a travesty.

Ashton had booked himself a senior citizen-style Niagara Falls tour bus trip that left at 9:30 a.m. from Dundas Square. We left the apartment pretty early, and walked to Rosedale Station. Realizing that I was a short walk from the Witch Cave, I decided to save my $3 and continue walking. Ashton and I hugged and kissed goodbye, and went our separate ways.

To be honest, I would totally do it again. There wasn’t a single breath of awkwardness after Ashton and I had sex last night, and that’s really hard for me to find. It was as though we had an unspoken mutual agreement that, although we would remain in contact and probably see each other again down the road, what happened between us last night was purely physical.

I walked home, stopping at the post office along the way. I had to pick up the documents that never ended up being delivered to Hellacious in March, when I was trying to ensure a successful border crossing with that whole MOMENTS DUI debacle. Money well spent, obviously. Oy.

Back at the Witch Cave, I started packing my suitcase for this weekend’s wedding in Montreal, and for what will be a long two weeks at Casa Z while I recover from my upcoming foot surgery. As I was putting things away into a new box I have labeled “BAD MEMORIES – DO NOT OPEN,” which contains ghosts and mementos of relationships past, a carpet beetle fell out of one of the boxes.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

The insect encounter then led to me scurrying around my apartment on all fours – much like a beetle myself – inspecting all floorboards and carpets, disinfecting crevices with bleach, and eventually vacuuming the entire Witch Cave. I didn’t find traces of any other bugs, so let’s hope it was a one-off. Otherwise, we’ll be calling in the exterminators. Again. Damn it!

Yesterday at The Store, Alicia had mentioned that this Friday would be May 13th.

Friday, May 13th.

Not only would that have been me and RX’s five-year anniversary, but it would have been the exact date of it. We had our first date on Friday, May 13th, 2011. I messaged RX that little piece of info. Why? I don’t really know. I’m not sure what I thought it would do. I guess I wanted to see what RX would say, or if he even thought about it. Later in the day, RX responded.

RX: “First in 5 years. Crazy.”

That was all we exchanged.

I finished up at the With Cave, and then drove home to Casa Z. I relaxed, ate, and napped. I also managed to book a dentist appointment for this afternoon, so I went and had my teeth cleaned after what had been over a year since my last visit. Gross. The hygienist was hacking at my mouth for about an hour.

I was on call for The Store today, but they said they wouldn’t be needed me. In an attempt to avoid Bryan again, I told him that I had to work and made up some other lies to go along with my story. However, I was truthful when I alluded to being on new medication. Bryan said that if I wanted to talk, I could always call him. I had decided that I would call Bryan before bed, and end things once and for all.

I returned to Casa Z after the dentist in a low mood. I don’t know what it was. I just wasn’t feeling that great. I had so many things on my to-do list, and didn’t want to do any of them. Instead, I binged on junk food, making myself feel even more sick.

There was one good thing that happened today, though. Robyn from The Clubhouse called me out of the blue. She wanted to follow up on last month’s meeting, and see if I was still interested in the job. It turned out that I was still high on Robyn’s list, and she wanted to bring me in for another interview. Not having much luck with anything else, I said sure. The interview will happen sometime next week, after I get back from Montreal. Thus, I will not be taking that short side trip to New York City. The interview should be interesting.

After my phone call with Robyn, I escaped into the gym for a few hours. I worked out, did my thing, and then went upstairs to my bedroom.

Time to call Bryan.

After 35-minutes of catching up, I never ended up breaking up with Bryan. I kept waiting for the right moment to slide it in that I wasn’t feeling things anymore, but the opportunity never presented itself. Now, I’m wondering if this thing is just headed for a natural separation, where Bryan realizes that we aren’t going to be anything serious. But, fuck me if it lingers on until my birthday. I don’t want Bryan celebrating it. That just makes things infinitely awkward. I don’t want that. Remember Jared from my 23rd birthday? No, no, no. Part one and two.

So, that was that. I don’t know where things will go with Bryan. I’m also at a point where I don’t care all that much. As far as I am concerned, we are not in a relationship. I am free to do as I please, as is Bryan.

Still feeling low, I took a Xanax and crawled under my covers, thinking about a hundred different things just before I fell asleep.

While I was in the gym earlier, I listened to Mariah Carey’s Butterfly album. It was actually the first time in a while that I had been able to listen to the full thing. I was lying on the ground, and “Outside” came on. I started crying at the end of it. The song is about Mariah feeling like an outcast growing up and throughout her life, because of her multi-racial background. However, a lot of fans associate the lyrics with growing up gay and closeted.

It’s funny. Despite being gay, and having dealt with various issues surrounding my sexuality, that’s never been a huge struggle for me. The struggle comes with being labeled as “weird” – whatever that even means. I think the way in which I came out certainly reflects my feelings on being gay. My coming out was as simple as picking up a phone and calling home once things finally clicked for me. I’ve never experienced much inner turmoil surrounding my sexuality.

Recently, especially with my ongoing job hunt and different relationship issues, I’ve been experiencing this “weird” labeling a lot more. I’ve never subscribed to one specific interest, or one particular group of people. I’ve always just been myself. Kind of a loner, if you will. Although I’ve always had a ton of friends, I don’t really feel like there are many people who truly understand me.

I think that’s a part of why it hurt so bad with Logan. I fell for him so quickly, and that’s because I truly thought Logan saw a side of me that nobody could see. Obviously, I was so, so wrong. That misjudgment really kicked me in the ass at the end of the day.

I enjoy my uniqueness. As such, I don’t often give a fuck if people think I’m “weird.” At the end of the day, I actually feel sorry that they are so simple and narrow-minded. Still, I would be lying if I said that it doesn’t get lonely sometimes. As much as I want someone to understand and appreciate me, I know that’s not what I need. What I need first is to regain my confidence and appreciation for myself. That’s what I’m working on.

Goodnight xo