With no snow or crippling mass transport strike to keep me preoccupied, all that was left for me to contemplate on over the holidays was the meaning of an unanswered SMS I sent out to a straight japanese man.

As he traveled across south east Asia with his gay friend, I was stuck here trying to reconcile the fact that I have, for the third time, fallen over the fence of rhyme and reason into a place where people believe that functional friendships can happen with people they would rather sleep with. 

It’s not that there’s any dearth of possibilities. I was actually with someone in Baguio. And there’s that painter guy. And the nurse.  

This makes my new year’s resolution crystal – no more straight guys. But just in case, I asked Santa to turn him around and make him at least bi-curious.

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