In the continuing saga of "Jesus Christ, Ravenwcatz, do you just have sex with ANYONE?"
I may or may not have admitted attraction to one of the recruiters from the theater conference I've been working all week. The one who was unabashedly flirting with me for days beforehand. Via a ridiculous note slipped under his hotel room door.
Ravenwcatz, say you, you are facilitating an unmitigated disaster. Probably.
But he called me back, and asked me to get drinks with him.
And then I... just didn't go home last night. Because actors will literally sleep with anyone, given the chance.
Ravenwcatz, what the absolute fuck.
...And then he asked me to promise, no matter what happens between now and next year's conference, that I would stay in the hotel with him next year. I'm too jaded to think that's actually going to happen, but holy fuck how uncomfortably romantic did this just become?
All this, from basically a stranger.
I'm never ever thought I would be the person I am today.
I'm not proud of it.
I need a change
I am really having a hard time, no doubt because I do not forgive. I am having a hard time finding anyone to talk to about this stuff. For one thing you never know who is really too delicate to hear this stuff.
And just like that, the burlesque god is gone again. Continuing on a neverending tour. He called me to take him to the train station, I think he just likes pretending that he's leaving someone behind. Having someone to kiss on the platform, so that he's not so alone all the time.
He's not someone that needs my feelings, but I'm going to keep having them anyway.
My burlesque god has returned. Talking to him is like seeing a side of the community I have no access to. We go out and he gets recognized by random people like a real celebrity. He's heroin, all over again.
I have a (somewhat reciprocated) crush on a burlesque god.
He may have been my sneaky, sparkly houseguest for a few days last month.
I've started having anxiety attacks again.
I don't want to be ill again!