h1

June 24, 2005

Friday night, 9.23pm and I’m at home in front of my laptop finding love – trying to find love. Hanging on to the silly hope that the next person I meet online is going to be him. My social life, in the absence of my dearest friends and in the nonexistence of my gay posse, has been reduced to eating alone, watching lousy TV shows and rushing to sleep.

What is it about loneliness that makes us want love so much?

Or have I merely confused love and sex again?

Today I asked a friend why he fell in love with another boy – so much so that when they broke up, due to the draconian practices that persist in on this vile isle, he nearly fell apart – and he replied that he could not remember. I could not tell if he was being disingenuous – or perhaps we do not know when that moment has overtaken us, or perhaps we cannot know what the quality of love is?

I do not know what the quality of love is.

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