It’s the USS Enterprise you asshole!

Dearest D.,

Stop me if you’ve heard this one before.

What do the Starship Enterprise and Northern Toilet Tissue have in common? They both circle your anus searching for deadly cling-ons. Bah-dah-bump…

Why the thoughts of deadly dingleberries and crusty Klingons by yours truly as of late? Mostly due to the fact that I’ve been spending far too much time thinking of you over the past couple of days (and what happened between we too). I know, I know, I’ve tried to let go of it (read that you). Really, I have. I mean, it’s been nearly three years gone by now. You’d think I’d be well on my way of getting over it already—but alas no.

And why all of the ill-begotten thoughts of you steaming through my psyche like a freight train out of control? It’s an odd combination of a succulent bunch of disparate elements I believe. The greater of which is the fact that the month of April held for me an anniversary of sorts. You see, April is the month that I came out of the closet some thirty odd years ago.

Christ that sounds like such a bloody long time ago.

Not that I was ever really in the closet mind you. More just biding my time waiting to graduate from high school and rid myself of the daily drudgery of forced confinement with the listless wankers who were my so called classmates. They were a perfectly lovely bunch of boys and girls I’m sure. I just felt little to no affinity with them whatsoever for obvious reasons (and some not so). They were all Foreigner and Foghat in overalls and shit kickers while I was more Bowie and Boston in denim coveralls and platform shoes.

So with each year, as this month rolls around, and so as with each moment this anniversary arrives; it presents the opportunity for me to evaluate, ruminate and mostly internally gesticulate. To take stock of where I’ve been, where I am, and where I am going. And of course one of the things which I invariably evaluate is the fact that I’m single and just how long such has been the case. Part of this cogitation also includes churning over in my mind all of my past relationships and in your case—pointless romantic obsessions.

As the memories of you have tumbled round and round in my brain like diminutive silk delicates ever destined to never completely dry and be removed from the laundry appliance, they are inevitably reduced to this single thought…

You’re an asshole.

Plan and simple, nothing extraordinary, certainly nothing nearly as grand as the pretense you promulgate about yourself through the interwebs. This to me is rather disappointing, really. Mostly due to the fact, you see, that when you were speaking with me I (as you would say) dealt with you and some of your rather strikingly odd (and at times annoying) personality traits because I actually believed your snippets of self-advertisement to be true and thought there might have been more beneath the surface of pomposity and perturbed attitude.

I, however, was wrong.

In retrospect, I’ve come to conclude—so very wrong. Much like the familiar dissatisfaction associated with the failed promise of ye olde Hostess Twinkie. You presented yourself like a cake of golden baked goodness whose center might reveal the reward of a sweet and sticky filling sure to satisfy any hunger. If only such were the case, eh?

But rather, the brief time we spent  together when you were speaking with me revealed instead the crusty exterior of a professional-victim-pie filled with a mince meat of bitterness and disdain of others. Of course, cooked and spiced to perfection with the need to find fault and blame with everything and everyone else rather than accept responsibility for yourself and your actions—familiarly typical and sad.

Which now brings me back round to the conclusion I came to this afternoon which is sad as well, why am I being such a dingleberry (for a distance star or otherwise)? Why am I clinging to such an asshole?

That’s a very good question. With a little luck and a great deal more work, I will uncover the cause of this mystery soon.

On the flipside, I have a guy coming over for breakfast tomorrow who I’m really looking forward to seeing. I met him a few months back on of all places Craigslist. He’s a very sweet guy, close to my age, very down to earth. He is in no way a player or filled with pretense. And what I like about him the most is he’s overwhelming positive in attitude.

I can’t wait.

Anyway! As always,  sending you much love…