So many things to say

Some things are best left unsaid. And having said that, yesterday was my birthday. It wasn’t the worst, but it was certainly uncomfortable

Bill and I, with Mike, went down to Long Branch, New Jersey, to the beach; both of them were broke, meaning no money. Not that I paid for everything, except for Bill paying for my tickets, I paid for Mike’s ticket. Bill felt bad, and it was a bit morose because of that fact. Mike was basically uncommunicative most of the day, which is standard, which doesn’t make him a good person to hang out with, since he hangs out with his phone, which is what he’s prone to do

But no effort and no words were said about contributing to the cost of what I was doing that day, yesterday. I even made the same joke twice, which landed the same way, meaning it died. I told Bill that if I stayed in Hoboken, I would have been on the 988 crisis hotline all day, and that was received with stone faces

Bill is planning on making up for the lack of money, and another date Mike is not saying anything like that. If he had said Hey, listen, I don’t have any money, but I can do this, I can do that but he didn’t. He looked at his phone. He did buy himself a cookie, whereas I would have said Hey, I know it’s not a birthday cake, but I got you a cookie that would have meant something. But when thinking only of oneself, no one else comes into the picture

There are so many things I want to say I’m not going to, cuz if I said them, Mike would not take them well, but I’m at my wits’ end. Part of me wants to maintain the friendship, which would require me not saying anything and letting it die, meaning my feelings, but it’s getting difficult to be his friend, especially since he has rejected any physicality with me, which was the basic basis of our relationship. Without that, what do we have?

This was brought up weeks ago, and here it is again, and yesterday I couldn’t help but feel that I’m just an ATM, and that’s no fun. I recall being friends with Julio back in the day, and he had money, and I did not, and I’d ask him for money, and he wouldn’t give it to me, which taught me a lesson. And I did the exact opposite of that with Mike. And now I sort of regret it, or not sort of, but actually.

Now I have just left the supermarket for my Saturday chores, and I’m going to go home and do my laundry and possibly Mike’s laundry. Last night I asked him when he was leaving, and he said Sunday, and I said Why Sunday?

Later, when Bill went to sleep, Mike asked Do you want me to leave and I said no. But I know that if he leaves, my life will get somewhat better because it’s too painful to be around him, and he’s oblivious since he’s looking at his phone all the time

I am planning on taking a break from social media. It might be today, at least at the end of the day, but it’s been a real downer lately, and it’s affecting me in ways that are most unpleasant, and also keeping in mind that social media is how I met Mike, and look where we are now.

A talk was had. Heated on his part, Mike, for he has a temper that rises since he uses words rather than fists or weapons. It’s ended. Any type of physical relations is gone. We do want to remain friends, but realize time apart is what’s best.

Mike mentioned yesterday that he wrote a play. It was the first I had heard of it, though Mike insisted that he had mentioned that before and that I had forgotten. I disagree. I remember Mike reciting a poem over the phone that he wrote, which was powerful, and I would definitely not forget something I would consider greater than a poem, a play.

He does not have a copy of the play; it was lost in a flood. He says he has it all in his head, and I told him to write it down, put pen to paper. Bill is willing to type out his dictation.

Bill and I talked on the phone just now for over an hour. It was all about Mike. I feel what has happened between me and Mike has made the bond between me & Bill that much stronger and has forced us to have a discussion about things.

We both agree that we see talent in Mike, but he lacks discipline. Bill has the discipline to study his lines for a play, and I write at least 500 words five times a week. Mike doesn’t have the discipline.

He says he wants a relationship like the one Bill and I have. I want that for him, too. I knew he would leave eventually, at least the bedroom, and I want him to have what I have. I thought I could work something out between the three of us, but obviously, I was the only one thinking like that.