Hey pals. Gack. Still living the dream/nightmare. Feel a lot better about the recent Unpleasantness, not entirely cured but I’m definitely over the worst of it. Zillions of mails in my inbox, prolly won’t get to them all but thank you sincerely to everyone who wrote with kind words.
Losing your girlfriend, house and job all at the same, weeks before Xmas is a terrible thing but I can sort of see the funny side and can laugh at most of it . It’s still like she died though. Since breaking the news to me I’ve seen her once for less than an hour. The only communication has been ‘when are you moving out’ and the practical shit like changing over the bills. Other than a badly composed letter of repeated clichés that were just copied from the desperate love letters that I sent her, I’m still none the wiser as to why it happened. She just walked out.
I was a wreck. Heh, I had two weeks left in my job when she told me and I think everyone there thought I was gutted about losing the job. That’s funny. I was crying in work and blaming it on a sinus infection. Jesus I was crying in public, on the bus, walking down the road, everywhere. One day I came home and just walked from room to room at a brisk pace for hours with my coat still on, wringing my hands and bawling. Making the most pathetic squealing noises. Completely gutted.

But I clung to the hope of resolving it before the 25th December. Like a sap.
I tried to get a small xmas tree but none suited my mood. I wanted a 12 inch one just to put on the mantelpiece but couldn’t find one. I always whinge about how corny Christmas is but it was impossible to escape the sentiment. I had offers to spend Xmas day with people but I declined. I had been dreaming about spending it with her for months, facing into 2007 where I’d take a few months off to work on comics, the last throw of the dice before getting another crummy job and starting a family. I bought myself 2 games and some weed and settled in waiting for her to call. I held the phone from the 23rd to the 26th, waiting for at least a ‘Happy Christmas’.

But she didn’t call or text me and I knew it was over. That was the new departure. And instead of crumbling I felt something constrict and freeze inside me and all the pain just went. In a flash I changed. Back to the angry bastard I used to be before I met her. And that was that. I thought I was over it.

I finished packing up my shit. Threw away tons of stuff to save on space. This is another killer, the house was more or less completely finished when she decided to kick me out. I bought a new desk, new office crap and was completely settled in. I had pictures hanging on the wall. I thought I’d be there for years.
She wanted me out by the 8th January. The only place I could I get short term was one of her friend’s house. So I took it. I was feeling good. New year, survived xmas and was determined to get over it. But the moving out day was without a doubt the hardest thing I ever I’ve ever done. Having to leave the house that we put so many hopes and dreams into. The two people that helped us move in moved me out. In the car over I was completely devastated again. Fuck, it was poxy.

I had been in the new house before. My main memory of it was last summer, me and Hayley and two other couples sat out in the garden, had a barbeque. I was toasted from being in the pub all day and then at the barbeque I smoked tons of grass. Everyone was happy, the sun was so bright and it was a rare social occasion out with her friends that I really had fun.

But the last time I had been there was the week before we moved into the other place. We had no bed yet and her friend was away for a week so we stayed there at night and painted the other place during the day. Amazing summer days. So giddy and full of hope and relief after the long legal wranglings. It’s like somebody else’s life when I think of it. It snowed the other day and I looked out the back for the first time since moving in. And there where the chairs, all grey and dingy. Gicky Tallaght snow in clumps around it. All so different.

But I’m a million times better about everything now. I’ve started a comic about the whole thing and it’s really helping. It’ll take me ages to put my brain back into ‘single mode’ though. But I’m ready to move on. Trying to shake the new cynicism about love will be hard, trying to accept that what we had and what I held so dear was obviously nothing special. It’s like being told the truth about Santa. How can you believe in stuff anymore?
So that’s the last of my gay feelings for a while. Thanks for listening. You fag.