Saturday is a day that’s spent at Scott’s house, in front of the TV, watching Malcolm In The Middle, The Simpsons, QI, maybe some Big Brother. This event takes up the hours between 1000 and 1900. The foods consumed include: roasted chicken breasts, jelly babies, a mozzarella and meatball pizza, dairy-free chocolate-flavoured soya frozen dessert. I am trying very hard right now, but I can hardly deal with the fact that this day will never be topped. I am 28 and 6 months and 6 days old.
In the evening, Scott and I go over to Mean’s house in Waterloo, and then we all go to Zigfried on Hoxton Square. We sit by the dancefloor and watch straight boys and girls wearing no knickers dancing to a soundtrack of: Never Too Much by Luther Vandross, Doctor Beat by Gloria Estefan, All Day And All Of The Night by The Kinks. Then we go to Soho, where we go to my favourite Turkish place on Old Compton Street and have chicken kebabs. This takes us to 0100, when we go home.
On Sunday Scott and I go to the gym where we do chest, and I watch this guy who’s kinda sexy and I recognize from somewhere. I can’t remember where. I have a vague memory that some time in the distant past (three years ago? something like that) either he wasn’t interested in me, or I wasn’t interested in him. Either way, I find the whole thing regretful.
After the gym, we meet up with Alexei, Brendan and a friend of Brendan’s. We go to Apostrophe and we sit outside, where I have a hot chocolate, which they now do in a large size, and try to hide from the sun.
After Apostrophe, we go to The Social on Little Portland Street, where Donnell also comes.
Donnell is not moving to Sydney with me anymore. Donnell is going to Brighton in January for about 18 months to work there. This Sunday afternoon, Donnell tells me that after Brighton he is planning to go to Sydney for a year or so then.
This means that the next time Donnell and I are likely to be living in the same city (i.e. London) will be late 2011. Right about now, I am thinking that this might be it for my friendship with Donnell.
I leave The Social with Scott and ask him to promise me that he will always be in London, he will always be not far from me. Scott says that he can’t promise that – he has vague long-term plans to move away. Maybe to Sydney. Maybe not soon, but maybe in ten years’ time. Scott is now 33.
I am finding it hard to deal with this. This Sunday afternoon, standing outside The Social, I start to wonder when the time comes, when you make the choices of where you want to live, based on the people who are with you / around you, instead of adventurous whims and a youthful sense of wanderlust.
I decided to move to Sydney for a while, because Donnell was coming with me, and because Matty and Nicole are also there at the moment. When Donnell mentioned that he’s not coming anymore, that’s when I started having second thoughts. If Matty wasn’t there, I would certainly not be going. But maybe I’m just weak.
Donnell’s frequent changes of plans, and Scott’s non-committal response about his future location makes me think of Mummy and her biggest fear about me being gay. I will grow old alone. From 1830 until 2135 on Sunday evening, I’m trying to feel something about this.