THOSE WHO SUFFER LOVE
Today may have been the first in many a year that the thought "Holy shit, I fucking need a boyfriend." lasted for more than half a second in my brain.
However, the thought is always followed by, 'The only way I am in any way comfortable with having a personal life is if I can elope with an orphan, whilst living at least 5000 miles away from my birthplace, and not tell anybody for at least six months... Or years... If I get lucky.'
I say this only after I have deleted about six attempts at eloquent complaints about the almost ludicrous secrecy my gene pool swims in. Excuse me, whilst I book my flight.