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| Ich hasse dich, Christian und Olli! |
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| Curse you Luke and Noah! |
It’s been more than a year. And I’d be lying to myself if I didn't say how much
I miss that feeling.
I’ve been feeling like I’m in a rot these days. I don’t
know. Something unknown has triggered
something within me and I feel all mopey and depressed. Being depressed for no
concrete reason is stupid, I know. But I can’t help feeling down these past few
days.
Maybe it’s because of all these stories I’ve been reading.
Stupid romantic stories. I’ve always been the cynic type-of-guy in front of
everyone –cool, collected and usually
the first one to give a sign of reproach and disgust when someone shares their mushy
story. Bleh. I mean, I can give the “awww...” expression coupled with the puppy
dog eyes that say how cute it is when someone tells me the lovey dovey details of their lives.
But I always give them a hard time after that because of it. I guess it’s easier to be that skeptic person and
laugh at how cheesy one can get when he’s in love than to cover how much a
sentimental guy I am deep inside. Poor, hopless romantic sap, yes. Call it my
defense mechanism.
Stupid gay love stores and their evil plots of happy
endings! Wretched fantasies are what they are.
