scapegoating

After weeks of agonizing over how I could improve things here, I finally had to make a decision. I want to go away, to San Francisco primarily. Portland is a possibility. The idea is secure a job and finally get a little place to live and have a simple life, away from constriction, away from being made to feel like I have become a liability. I can't live that way anymore.

I will not continue to suffer for the life's decisions he has made for himself years before he ever met me.

It's funny how desperate men get when they're trying to avoid you, to the point where they fuck things up even more. But then suddenly later, when he finally got into bed and I was next to him on the laptop, and he just lay there looking at me with his pale blue eyes, for a moment I melted. And I remembered again why I fell for him. He looked so vulnerable. I felt so sorry for him. And it made me that much more determined to go to San Francisco and get on with my life. With or without him.

And I imagined how his mouth will drop when I tell him I'm leaving. And why I'm leaving. It's funny how everything will instantly converge into sharp focus for him then. His life, all the decisions he's made for himself, how stifling and choking they are suddenly. I can see him being angry at first, then thinking, then realizing I'm right. I can imagine him feeling like the smallest man in the world.

And then I imagine how he'll want to run away again. To the chatrooms? He can't. He can't run anymore. He can't live life vicariously anymore, can't live it through those poufy little Asian guys who post their naked pics and flirt with him. Because then he'll realize - because I made him realize - that that isn't living. He can make another boy fall in love with him and move here to this little university town to be with him, but how long can that boy last here? Especially when the whole wide enriched colourful world is beyond such a small town with nothing else to do but see your parents 3 times a week and get groceries at the local Safeway? A small life where you're never allowed to express who you really are, not even to your own family? Even if that next boy is foolish enough to move here, he's not going to stay here for long. Not with a man who, though grown up, has chosen not to grow. And thus remains fixed and fossilized.