post-heartbreak-heartbreak [6th worm moon]

An average day somewhat blotted by the sight of a happy couple. It appears that the Ancient Reptilian Brain is signaling that I am not truly over A*...
I think I would feel better if something had actually happened between us before they went and did that. To quote Disco Elysium writer Justin Keenan, "the thing about desire is that it's stronger when it's not totally satisfied." It's true. when I look at A* all I can think of is that night at the party, and what was so close to my outstretched, expectant hand. Then it was pulled away from me, agonisingly slowly, all the fibers revealing their naked pink selves, like peeling off gum from underneath a desk. Thinking and writing about it does not make me feel better. In fact, it makes me feel worse. But I also need to unpeel it from me somehow, just like a piece of gum that has overstayed its welcome in my mouth.

Back to the description of the happy couple. If it were not for the individuals concerned and my feeling about them vis-à-vis my own relations with them, I would've been pleased and supportive of the hypothetical union of two such people. They have what I want. (I want one of them.) A couple so queer it becomes heterosexual in a pure way again. For the carnival they were dressed as Scott Pilgrim and Ramona Flowers, with of course the girl being Scott and the guy as Ramona. I hated [something] (not myself, I don't do that anymore) for recognising it instantly and for having a visceral internal reaction to it. I kept it to myself throughout lunch but couldn't stand it anymore and told a friend in the afternoon. Now I'm writing about it here. That's about it. I don't know if you, dear visitor of this website, would actually bother to read through a stranger's post-heartbreak-heartbreak drivel, but I hope at least that if you did, you found a bit of sympathy to spare for me, a momentary connection. Sirui signing off.

p.s. i typed this on my phone lmao