Friday, 30 October 2009

Gay Guide To Surviving Brake-Ups


Well I just can’t seem to get it right. Let me explain. After being single for nearly three years (the nine month holiday romance in Cyprus doesn’t count) I’ve just messed up yet another relationship, 18 months to be exact. Which leaves me asking myself where exactly do I go wrong?

When starting a new relationship I normally jump in feet first, rush everything (hence the reason I’ve been single for so long, if ever there was an award for being clingy I would win the Oscar), this time I can honestly say I took things a little slower. However one little thing came in my way, the dreaded EX. And I don’t mean his.

Ok so I didn’t cheat on him, I didn’t even meet up with him, but I did carry him. Instead of taking this fresh relationship on a crisp clean ikea sheet, I started to play the games my ex used to play with me. I ignored the texts sent to me all day, I tried to play cool, but instead was simply nasty. I even finished with him and walked out his house just to see what his reaction would be, he looked pure miserable and had tears in his eyes. Perfect. Two minutes later I had him in my car and took him out for the day. Believe it or not, I’m not a nasty person, it was my way of protecting myself. I even considered sleeping with someone else just encase he was doing it to me. Simply because this had been done to me in the past. However, my game playing backfired, he dumped me. Awwww I hear you cry. My big mistake to not to start afresh with a new person, and to pre-judge. So for this I am sorry.

Then came a new dilemma, just exactly how do you wash that man right out of your hair? However short or long term there’s no doubt it can leave you feeling sick to your stomach and a little lonely. But do not fear, with my experience I should have a degree in post brake up blues. Here are a few of my favourite things to make me feel better.

5. The best way to get over one man is to get under the next. In my case I tend to go for two, Benny and Jerry. It’s surprising what a litre of chocolate fudge heaven can do for you.

4. If he’s in the wrong don’t get mad get even. Get his Kylie collection and snap up those C.D’s. You’ll soon feel better, although I must warn you, criminal damage charges could be heading your way.

3. Surround yourself with friends. These are the people you use to go for drinks with before you got into a relationship. They’re generally quite happy to see you, hoping that you’re that little bit more bitter. Beware of the phrase ‘I told you so.’

2. Go for a walk, straight to Blossom Hill. Nothing better than having that Bridget Jones moment, play Celine Deon for full affect. A good old cry will make you feel better in the morning. I feel I must warn you to delete his number before the beginning of this night to save the embarrassment of noticing you sent begging and desperate text messages the night before.

1. You’re likely to kill me now. Yes it’s exactly what your mother said, but I’m afraid it’s true. Give yourself some time. If need be do all of the above, you’ll soon start to feel better. And failing that, there’s always Gaydar for your next victim.

Thursday, 22 October 2009

Territory


Well the bastard is back in town, and not only is he back, he’s back with a fine hunk of a new boyfriend, and he’s looking amazing as well. My ex, that is. Now two years down the line, you’d be right in thinking that I should have moved on. Well I have, just not when it comes to my territory. You see my best friend, although right now I am considering throwing her in the Manchester Ship Canal along with all the other rats and used condoms, bumped into my ex and felt the need to phone me and tell me he’s looking extremely hot and his new boyfriend is stunning, I know what you’re thinking, the bitch. To her defence she is a bit dippy at times and probably had no idea what she was saying would piss me, however I am accepting applications for a new fag hag, so apply within.

Now it is not that I am bitter about his new boyfriend or jealous, I would gladly buy him a drink, spiked with arsenic. What annoys’ me though is the political terms of a brake up. I introduced him to all my friends, as he came from out the area; I also introduced him to my favourite bars. These bars he has now started to frequent on his own. Surly the polite thing to do in this situation would be to find your own bars, bars that you know wont cause an atmosphere with you both being in at the same time. Now as these were places I was getting pissed as a cross dresser on tranny night in and then being swept out with the rubbish in the morning, way before he came on the scene, I consider these to be my territory a long with all the friends I introduced him to. Luckily my friends remain my friends and not his, as they now what would happen to them if they did, but unfortunately I can feel the control of my side of the village slipping away.

What the re introduction of this Barclays banker into my social world brings though, is the reminder that I am still single and without a date for the previous 20 Saturday nights, so readers I put it to you to find me a man. Preferably between 22 and 70, tall or short, fat or thin, rich or poor, sense of humour not important, neither is use of all limbs, not that I’m desperate, just open minded. Apply at www.myspace.com/mikie_l, now until next week excuse me, I’m going to go and remind myself that I may be gay by nature, but I’m fabulous by choice.

Mike x x x

P.S if you’re bitter about something let us now, not that we care, we just want a laugh.

Thursday, 15 October 2009

An Over Thought Romance


So what do you do if you're a single gay man looking for love? Well i've no idea either, thats why I'm asking, however, just recently I've been trying to figure out what I'm doing wrong, so I've put down my re-occuring phases of each man I seem to meet to give you a little insight into the world of a compulsive over thinker.......

Phase One.
"Can I have a marriage proposal, a house in the country and a Labrador with that kiss? By the way my names Michael."
So if the fella you just snogged three minutes previous is still sticking around after the last question your next trail of thought begins; Does he really like me? Why hasn't he ran off screaming "POSSESSIVE?" Next though: Couldn't possibly be that as ut wiykd have been a natural reaction to run for the hills, therefor he must be the freak. Step back and move on.

Phase Two.
You swapped numbers and he's texted you all morning but there's a sudden stop, now despite his last text reading 'Just about to go to work. Speak L8er,' you get yourself in a flap. Automatically the thoughts begin, who will he chat to at work? Will he meet anyone on the way there (even though he's took that same route for the past five years and its never happened before)? Four hours have passed and he's not texted you, and you figure he must have had a break by now.

Phase Three.
Your phone is now switched off as you've annoyed yourself for looking at it every thirty seconds. Telling yourself you'll keep itoff for the next five hours as you're sure you'll be greated with a message by then when you turn it back on. However, you only last ten minutes before typing the pincode into your phone and being greated by a slap of dissapointment.

Phase Four.
You met up for dinner last night and he stayed over, conversation flowed and so did the wine. You tell him you like him and he says it back. He left five minutes ago and you're now wondering if it's to early to tell if he loves you.

Phase Five.
You go for a few drinks but you're getting paranoid as he's been texting someone all night. Positive it must be somebody else he's seeing you're about to put and end to your 246 hour relationship, not that you've been counting, only then he tells you he has to go as his mother's dog was run over last week and died but she has been spotted trying to take its colar for a walk. You then spent the rest of the evening thinking how horribnle you have been before trying to decide if he was genuine or just a bloody good excuse to leave.

Phase Six.
All is going well, you've been together 389 hours but you know you can't control your paranoia much longer as it's Saturday afternoon and he's just phoned you to tell you he's food shopping in a leading brand suppermaket, though you think he's not alone despite knowing full well the voice you have just heard in the background is an annoucement for buy on get one free on oven chips. You delete his number from your phone.

Phase Seven.
You've found an old text message from him and his phone number is now restored, but you can not help your possessive streak and 539 hours after you first met you decide you should just be friends and so you call itoff with him, when really you were just starting to like him, but you'd rather him not know you're a paranoid obsessed freak.

Phase Eight.
"Can I have a marriage proposal, a house in the country and a Labrodor with that Kiss?"