Like a knotted string


These past years I have come to compare my emotions to a tangled string. I always thought --- no, I feel --- deep in my heart, there is a string that is frustratingly knotted. I, myself, find it hard to unravel and when I am involved with someone trying to tie this string with another human being seems almost impossible. The knots just keep getting messier. Bigger. Scarier. More frustratingly knotted. Painful.

Last night’s episode of Looking was just like that. Kevin tries to break it off with his boyfriend in favour of Patrick but can’t. Dom wants to know where he “sits in the pantheon” with Lynn who feels he is done with relationships having given most of himself to a former lover. In the end, Patrick walks out of a bar completely shattered. Wow, I thought, the valley of the broken hearts. Is San Francisco a valley? I especially love the shout-out to Armistead Maupin when Patrick compared Eddie to Miss Madrigal. And, yes, I guess when it comes to love --- the same as when buying an ice cream --- some actually prefer to wait in line even if you can get the same thing from another store, isn’t that right Richie?


I try not to watch too much TV. I’m already too much committed to Looking, Game of Thrones and Orange is the New Black and my laptop can only hold a certain amount of devotion. But I do dig those fan videos of love affairs featured in other shows. I guess it’s the romantic in me (and we all know what becomes of the romantic when it gets out of hand. Try talking to Madame Bovary). Last night however I got caught watching and re-watching the gay couple from Shameless. Oh god, Mickey is so fucking hot.



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