There's a reason people watch television

.... and that reason is simple: TV mirrors life. At least good TV does.

I've been watching QaF. First it was just season 1 (I have the box set). Then, I was watching season 2 online and getting george to lend me his season 3 box set. As I was getting ready to watch season 4 online, I realised that my desire to watch this entire series went far beyond just catching up on it. I realised that it was just my own odd form of therapy. I could see myself in the characters because, for once, they were just like me. It's odd how comforting it can be to see a gay drama (especially when I can just head to a bar and watch it live). I watched as they got in and out of relationships, acted like total sluts and were entirely inappropriate. Most of all, I singled in on the remantic aspects of their lives. I'll admit that a small part of me - ok, a big part of me - took comfort in the fact that other people, however fictional they may be, had the same, if not worse, relationship problems. I had one of those epiphanies. I am SUCH a guy. Such a stereotypical man, especially when it comes to romance. I was talking to this about George, and I've been discussing it with various people. I keep on falling into the same traps. I keep on falling for the same guys. I don't just compartmentalize myself. I compartmentalize others. It's like I pick a quality that I've decided to look for. If it isn't just plain looks, it's sense of humor or wit. What's worse is that I've developed a perverse appetite for the chase. The more beautiful or successful or more out of my league a guy seems, the more I want him. It's a fucking aphrodisiac to me these days. That'd be fine if I weren't actually getting what I want, but this D-list romeo's getting too good at the game. The last two wer.... disasters. I still feel guilty about them. He ignored me, I won him over, got bored, he fell "in love" and I broke his heart. AND I thought I liked him, realised WAY too late that I didn't and then was way too much of a coward to talk to him about it till just the other day. That's a little too much guilt for me to cope with. So, why am I telling all (and by all I mean the 5 people that will actually take the time to read this) of you? I don't know. I guess I'm acknowledging that I have a problem. That is the first step, after all. I'm acknowledging my shortcoming and making an effort to improve. Perhaps one of you has a similar problem and will find solace in this:

Hello, My name's Arnold and I've forgotten how to love.