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Tiny Beds.

The amount of times I’ve opened Snapchat, Facebook and/or Twitter and have been greeted by the news that someone I use to have feelings for has now hooked up with someone else that I know – or perhaps have also been with – is worryingly frequent. It happens and there I am, replaying that Snap, looking at that Tweet, analysing their exchanges. It is literally like scrolling your way to an anxiety attack.

The fact that guys I know have been with someone I use to blow doesn’t overly shock me. But finding out that it happened somehow seems to set me off, whilst filling me with this urge to win them back, or at least contact them. ‘Hi! I’m a perpetual walking cliché; only conversing with you again because it appears you’ve moved on. Love me.’

I guess it’s to be expected. I’m aware that as far as city gay scenes go, Glasgow’s is relatively small, so you’re bound to ‘share’ (for lack of a better word) partners with someone you know at one point. So often it feels as though that  everyone I’ve ever liked in the last two years are all bundled together in one tiny bed. Fighting for warmth; clambering over each other. Fumbling around the dark and taking no accountability for who they step on in the process. I don’t think anything staves off that gnawing sense of dread you feel when you see that two people you formerly like – not even currently, formerly – hooking up.

Perhaps spatial reality functions different in the gay world, I don’t know. But I am always left confused when I see that two people I know have gotten together. How did you even meet? Like, how?! I say that like it’s an unanswerable cosmic enigma, when in reality there’s quite literally 32 seconds skipping distance between Glasgow’s two main gay clubs. So the fact they met on a night out shouldn’t really baffle me. It’s kind of a country wide thing now as well, expanding well beyond the realms of this city’s limits. ‘Twitter Gays’ all seem to know each other – so really you will always have ‘gays in common.’

Is there anything worse than seeing someone you once carried a torch for; a person you shared intimate moments with; someone you made cum multiple times, lying in bed with someone else? Or worse, lying in bed with someone you know for a fact is trouble and somewhat unhinged? I am not one to judge or slut shame; nor would I ever mock a person for having mental health issues (pot, meet kettle.) But when the guy I use to like is cuddled into someone that is known for being bat-shit crazy, and then proceeds to send Snaps deliberately trying to provoke a reaction from me, I kind of lose my shit. Enjoy being snuggled up to the gay scene’s equivalent of Myra Hindley.

.* I’m glad to see you’re still a psycho.  Remind me to send my condolences to your current lover’s family after you inevitably attempt to stone-cold murder him in his sleep.*

I will be the first to admit that I am a very jealous person. I get jealous over guys, often possessive, but not because I view them as an object that I own. No. I get jealous because I’m a neurotic mess plagued with festering blisters of self-doubt; always carting around my fatally wounded self-esteem.  So when someone I like (liked, tenses are irrelevant) has a cameo in another boy I know Snapchat story, I take it a little bit too hard. But in all honesty I have no right to judge or comment, because I undoubtedly have been guilty of this too at some point – albeit unintentionally.

Complaining about the lack morals in today’s society is like moaning about the lack of realism in Coronation Street; or saying that Monster Munch don’t actually taste like monsters. I am not penalising anyone’s sexual exploits because sex/ exchanging nudes is harmless. As long as it is safe, consensual and legal then go for it. But don’t throw it in other peoples’ faces out of spite or plain nastiness. Twitter/Snapchat are a kind of twat amplifier if you ask me. I can meet someone in real life and think they are perfectly nice and normal; not overtly fussed about their antics because I can walk away. Then I see them documenting their behaviour online and they suddenly embody everything I loathe about this Godless universe. Half the time they probably don’t post stuff out of spite, or to hurt someone. But it’s there. Sitting right in front of me, on my screen, forcing me to look at it.

It bothers me how small this scene is because this is always going to happen, and when you’re as insecure as me then it’s really hard to simply shrug it off. I’m not saying all my past lovers should swear into a life of celibacy; I just struggle to see them with anyone else. Not because I still want them, but because it seems that another person doesn’t’ want me.

 

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