So, it’s been a while since my last update, but whatever.

Essentially, I was dating this boy named Lucas for just over 3 months, from end of Aug to just recently. Saturday, actually. Anyway. So, over the last few weeks, basically the entire month of November, he had grown more and more distant. Looks like he just lost interest. Okay, whatever. I had hoped for his honesty, but I recieved deciet instead. Lucas is a fucking slut. He may be monogamous (at least as far as I know), but he is a fucking relationship whore.

So. Long story short. I was madly in love with this boy, he was everything I imagined. With the distance thing growing ever stronger, feeling more and more ignored and rejected, and with the fact of us having two very conflicting schedules as of recently, I told him we should break up. Smart move on my part, doing this early, rather than lying to myself that things would get better if we worked on them. We break up Saturday afternoon.

I guess I need to tell you a little about Lucas and the last two or three weeks before I can tell you more. You see, Lucas is an actor/dancer/singer. Quite damn good, too. So, he got into this new musical, Cats, where he met Ben “Glitter” Moss. (Can you see where this is leading, yet?) They become friends, and I’m fine with this, you know. A little concerned, because although I don’t personally know Ben Moss all that well, everyone has heard the stories of the infamous glitter and his method with boys. Well, everyone except Lucas, apparently.

Glitter has a friend ask Lucas “Ben wants to know if you’re single, because if you are, he said he’d bang you.” (Or so Lucas claims this was the speech–I have a more personal feeling that the single part was made up to make me feel better.) This was around Monday, 5 days before Lucas and I split up. So Lucas tells me about this, and I realize that stories heard of Glitter the Wicked Whore of the East, are as solid as water at 0 degrees C. Moving on, I get a little upset, not angry, but a little upset. Some slut just totally tried making a move on my boy. But, whatever. I trust Lucas, that’s what lovers do, right?

If only I had known it was a one way love.

So, Saturday rolls around, and by this time Lucas has seen Ben several times during musical reherseal, and the distance is growing, week 3 or 4 of it. I tell Lucas that with our busy schedules, and that fact he’s been so distant despite numerous failed attempts to fix that, we decide to break up. We leave on good terms.

Sunday afternoon, 2ish pm. I’m miserable. I’ve been miserable the last 24 hours. I can’t stop wondering if I made the biggest mistake to date. I mean, what’s a little distance and little time together compared to this gaping hole I have in my heart and the no time I spend with him now? So, I call him up, we talk about things, and I propose that we get back together and try to fix things one last time. He informs me, “I have to sort out my feelings.”

Sunday night, 1030p ish. I talk to Lucas online, and he informs me that he has sorted out his feelings. “You love me like a lover, well, I love you like the best friend I ever had.” (Now I look back and wonder, if this is how you go about loving your best friends, how the fuck do you treat your regular friends?) I sigh, cry yet again, but accept it. He can’t help his feelings, you know? They’re only natural. We promise to remain friends. By this time it’s about 11p, he tells me he is tired and is going to bed. Naturally, I believe him. Why should I have any reason not to trust my dearest Lucas? It is, afterall, a schoolnight.

Monday at work, I am talking to my friend/coworker Tim. He tells me Lucas stopped in last night (Sunday night) to ask Tim how I’m doing. I feel like shit now, because Lucas was sweet enough to check up on me, me thinking “look at what I just tossed away,” you know, I’m fucking heartbroken right now. Seriously. Tim then informs me he was with someone. A boy. Tall. Just over 6 feet. Skinny. Blonde hair. Curly, too. “I think his name was…um…Ben,” says Tim.

So. Monday night (last night, actually) rolls around, I get off work and come home. Go online. I check my myspace, and then I check Lucas’s, just to do a little investigating. My my, lookie here. His marital status, which as of Sunday night, 11pm when he “went to bed”, was single. Was. Not anymore. “In a relationship”. “You little shit,” I say aloud, as I scroll over to the top 8, realizing Glitter makes number one. I go to Glitter’s myspace. Marital status changed from “Swinger” to “In a relationship.” Now I’m pissed.

I do a little more investigating. Lucas, at 1158p, Sunday night, an hour after he supposedly had, you know, gone to bed, leaves a comment on Ben’s picture, saying how adorable and perfect he is. It’s been 16 hours since we broke up that he posted this, not even 16 hours before Lucas and Ben are dating.

He loved me, he said. He loved me. Now, according to mine own measures, and seemingly anyone else who has ever been in love, one usually requires more than 12-16 hours to, you know, recover from a break up with that one you love. The one you hold so dear and special. The one who means everything to you.

Well, I’m not quite as irate as I was before, nor am I nearly as heartbroken. Oh no, not heartbroken at all by any means yet. If he asked me back out today I’d laugh in his face and call him a fucktard for even thinking I’d be willing to forgive him for forgetting me in 12 hours.

I guess the good thing that came out of this, is, well, now I know why he has been distant the last few weeks. Someone new and interesting came along, and look who got kicked the curb. Hahahahaha. I should have fucking dumped him beginning of November. Oh well, that 20/20 hindsight, you know.

Lucas tonight told me he plans on Benny giving him a blowjob tomorrow, 4 days after we broke up, 3 after he started dating Glitter.

You fucking little shit, how lucky you were to have me, and how fucking stupid you were to give me up. And to think I wasted all that time thinking about you all the time, all that money on you, all my love on you. Well, when the next new and exciting twink comes along for Glitter, my dear, dear Lucas, I thank you for succeeding in fufilling my day with overcome glee and joy.

With that, no longer will I date boys younger than me, unless only by a short few month span. I had forgotten how immature, how irresponsible, and how foolish 16 year old boys can be. And you would have thought I would have learned by now, when one such as Lucas, never has to work for anything in his life, and becomes stricken with depression and anger when he cannot get what he wants, he will not have appreciated me any different than he appreciates his belongings, he doesn’t understand value.

Oh my dear, dearest Lucas, how gay I will be, when your Rome collapses from within, and you have no one left to grovel on back to.