Occasionally I get homesick when I travel. I mean, I’m such a creature of habit that when my routine is disrupted for any length of time, I crave regaining that comforting stability of my hum-drum life.
San Francisco has proven to be a very lonesome town for me.
Visiting places by myself, I normally chock my schedule with so much sight seeing and activity, I don’t have much time to dwell on my alone status. But here in SF, it was like it was always in my face.
So many gays everywhere was a constant visual reminder. They were out with friends or boyfriends and laughing and eating and walking together…
“And I’m with by myself.”
I climbed up Twin Peaks yesterday; the view was indeed worth it. But even there I saw this:
And this is me:
It’s time for me to come home.