And he cheats

"Love means never having to say you're sorry." - Love Story, 1970

Sometimes people do things that hurt us. Other times we do things that hurt other people. Sometimes we don’t understand why the people who we care about the most disparage our feelings, completely disregarding how much we love them. Other times we disregard their feelings, in a vicious attempt for revenge, played by our emotions and animal instincts. But in the end, no matter what, we suffer the consequences of our actions, or the actions of others, trying to get used to the pain or lying to ourselves thinking that there is no pain. Or else, we try to do something about the pain, and in an attempt to end it, start a brand-new vicious cycle.

Wednesday night

The night before El’s 24th birthday. We were invited to go swimming at Constantine and Simone’s, this foreign gay couple from El’s work. Simone is this hunky picture-perfect Italian who is living in the U.S with Constantine, his Russian boyfriend who cuts hair at the Salon that El works at. They have been living together since November, which is also when they started dating since Simone had nowhere else, but the street, to live. I think that El has a crush on Simone. In fact I’m pretty sure that he does because he has told me how hot Simone is (which he is) and how he is only dating Constantine because he has no other place to stay.

Off course there was pre-drama. El was pissed at me because I arrived later than he wanted. But I was pissed at him because I waited for an hour for him to come back from tanning so that I could go to the gym when he came back. And while I was waiting I fell asleep, while he was out making plans for the evening, only letting me know at the last minute and expecting me to change all my plans. So I did what any self-respecting person would do. Go to the gym (as I had already planned on), let him do whatever the hell he wanted, and meet him later.

I arrived at Constantine’s and saw that El was heading on the road to drunkenness. He was being loud and obnoxious, though somewhat funny, despite of being annoyed with me for going to the gym without letting him now. As the clock struck twelve, we ran upstairs to the pool, me in these skimpy Speedos, with my ass bulging out and barely concealing my crotch. Actually, they were Constantine’s Speedos, who was generous enough to let me borrow them for our midnight escapade. After another drink, El jumped into the pool. Soon he was all over me, kissing me with the vigor of a new twenty-four year old. I have to admit it was nice, swimming on the rooftop under the moonlight with a beautiful boy in my arms. But I didn’t want to go too far since it would’ve been tacky to do something sexual in a swimming pool with another gay couple around us.

Around 1 o’clock El was drunk. In fact he was so drunk that he was going to pass out on the roof. After thanking our hosts for our illegal nighttime swim, I got El to put on his clothes and dragged him back to my place. As we walked, he thanked me for coming out that night and told me how much he loved me. But he said that he didn’t feel sorry at all for getting drunk because it was his birthday. Back in my apartment he started feeling sick, ran to the toilet, threw up his insides, and passed out. Feeling a little pissed, I tugged his unconscious body in bed and turned the other side, thinking how romantically the night had ended.

Thursday

Summary: El fucked someone else tonight, a boy called Stuart, who he claims is the most recent coverboy for Armani Exchange. And this was after I cooked a birthday dinner for him and let him go out to have a fun night.

Should I kill myself now?