4 years young and renewed romance.
Honestly I don’t know how it happens sometimes. Making promises to one’s self at times seems ridiculous, especially when they’re broken within measurable hours of writing them down with self-assurance and approval, “Yes this sounds like a strong position to take, well done you.”. It couldn’t be further from the truth.
I’m back in University City for that fateful final push into assignments, part time career and Mongol Rally organisation, in roughly that order of priority. Thus far life has been colourful back in the south west. Moving was not without its challenges; getting 1 assortment of gear and clothes back home, to then be reorganised and bolstered up with kitchen utensils and more IT equipment before setting off to my new home, just off campus in the renowned student “quarter”. The house is lovely and I use that term with shared accommodation in the most reserved sense – the housemates have set a precedent of tidiness and order. A tight ship is being run and that’s how I prefer it; a clean kitchen, orderly fridge, house nights out or in, it’s always good fun. That is, until your black sheep housemate goes for the literal interpretation of putting foot-in-mouth. Yes, during 1 fateful evening of partying and visiting the local and somewhat infamous gay bar, upon meeting a new star in my night sky, said housemate after far too much drink and self-righteousness decided to play the homophobic card and not only run with it, but try to make an example of me in front of the rest of the group. This didn’t last long – after a swift slap to the face, for which I received one in return, the group ejected him from the bar, sending him hope with a guilt-ridden conscience.
All was not lost in this escapade of closeted insecurities, however. “Bambi” entered my life and has so far, albeit shy and slightly unsure of himself in certain social environments, been a wonderful companion. Twice-weekly meet ups, sleepovers abound, he’s really quite charming, once I broke through the ice and built up his trust. Not to sound clinical of course… I guess I’ve become desensitised to the smaller heart-string tugs in early romance. It almost feels like I’ve found a sense of confidence through literal repetition of early dating stages. I like where it’s going, but I do wish for a more fulfilling connection with him sometimes. This is certainly the slower game, one I’ve not played for a while.
Work seems more distant every day. While I deliver the goods as best I can remotely, the feeling of being out on a limb is ever-present. The last 2 weeks especially – where the discovery of work declining the careers fairs at University (a major part of my being able to work from here) lead me to ask some pretty morbid questions as to how much they actually care. I’ve taken it on myself to get this organised, requesting (with thus far no response) for support with overnight accommodation from my team, and a courier delivery of the display stands. I know I can make it work, but there’s precious little time. I’m going to need hands on deck and soon.
The Mongol rally looms in the distance. Nine months remain until a group of wised up keyboard jockeys including myself, hit the road for 11’230 miles.