A Sweet and Sour Lunch

Of being in a committed relationship, I find that it dulls one's years as a blooming Spring flower-- not that I detest this stagnation of the crawling climax of my possibly long life, since the stability of mind of my significant other provides me with the rationality that I do not possess. But, excitement, is non-existent; at least in terms of raging adrenaline triggered by new experiences of interaction, or hanging off the edge of a cliff.

I saw a Schattig at lunch, the kind of demure male human I would want as a houseboy. Even his laugh echoed with the tremulous melody of a maiden, without the obnoxious snorts that prevail in hearty male laughter. I forget the details of his face because I'm not one to stare, but I remember nothing prominent, only the flowing outline of a bubble. His stature, unassuming; legs, undeniably thin, a faint resemblance to Pico, ぼくのピコ.

Would I have liked to have lunch with him, if he was alone. But as I separated my chicken from its thick bowl of sweet and sour sauce, I concluded that it would not have mattered if he was alone, for I am not a wild flower basking in the light, but one growing in a pot, carefully nurtured. The vinegar stung my senses but the sugar propelled me into a state of confusion-- is it sweet and sour or is it sour and sweet or is it more sour than it is sweet or is it more sweet than it is sour? But it doesn't matter, it was not meant to linger.

Now, I remember the conversation I had with Jor two days ago about why people cheat. He said it's about greed, but I think it is about the lack of fulfillment in one's relationship. In the end, it all boils down to the fact that we all just want what we do not and cannot have. So is it greed, or is it a lack of fulfillment?

Ah...

As I watched him float towards his friends, I told myself: he's too cute to be straight anyway.

I continue to pick the meat out of the pool of sauce, with much distaste.