Infatuation should not be confused for love

One of my friends has left the place he once called home to return to his birth place. I miss his spirits. Out of all of us he was much older, wiser, and more experience in the gay life and yet to himself he knew nothing. He knew more of loneliness, sadness, and internal anger because he could not find what he wanted in a man. It was not that he did not find men because he did it’s the connection he wanted to establish that was never present in the men he encountered. He was 38; he spent 10 years in this country and left with a lot of experiences but the ones that he remembers are the lonely and bitterness cold nights.

I once accept that I will never find love in this lifestyle, I once accept all I will always keep doing is having sex with strangers and more strangers, I once accept that this lifestyle is all bitter, lonely and cold and I still do. Maybe it will happen maybe it won’t but that mind set I am destine to fail and a life of sadness.

I once was infatuated with this guy I use and continued to see at the gym each and every day. I wanted to be his and wanted him to be mine. I wanted to taste his juicy bubble gum pink lips, feel on his dark chocolate skin, read on his tattoo like am reading a brail and be part of him like I was his forever. Little did I know this infatuation was turning into love? I was in love with someone I could never possibly be with because he was a married man. Quickly snap back into reality and came down to lonely earth where there aren’t that many color but shades of grays and whites. It is so sad and I am so desperate.