SK and I moaned and complained (to each other) about being single all day long on Saturday and Sunday, and we thought we were done. When friend BB and TB came over, we were planning to chitchat about other things in life. Except I made the mistake of asking T if she knew any pinay nurse friends she could set me up with. That triggered a series of events that led to us talking about relationships for the following five hours. And in the end I was tired. Even after they left, Sk and I kept on talking about it until late at night.
So anyway, we've talked everything there is to discuss on the matter. We've talked about how we're such fools, what mistakes we've made, how it's actually fine because we're in control, how there's no real risks, and on and on and on. It's getting tiring to even think about those topics again. The summary is this: I don't think either of us are realistically worried about it. Not yet anyway. Because people don't like to talk on and on and on about something they are fearful of, something that stresses them. Regardless, that topic has been talked to death, and it's boring and pointless. There's not much to explore there, no real, original realization. Nothing that hasn't been rehashed endlessly. Every conversation is a repeat, a redo, a re-discussion. We don't need to go through any of those anymore.
Though it was kind of important because it does inspire one to get their shit together, to be more motivated to make a difference in existing circumstances. Moaning and complaining about things doesn't change the way things are. Doing stuff...does. And I'm ready to do. To work hard and push myself. In life generally, in work matters and in my passions. If a partner is gotten as a part of all of that, great. If not, ah well, attempts were made, fun was had, everything else is up in the air...
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