I’m still slightly wary of saying anything about how Curfew Boy & I are doing here, other than in the vaguest terms, because despite knowing how it’s irrational to feel this way, I can’t stop wondering if “framing” our interaction in some way will automatically cause it to implode.

And of course, there’s the perpetual concern–there’s a lot of it, I admit freely–that whatever we have going isn’t really around for the long-haul; that right now, the excitement and energy we’re putting into it is because we’re in different cities and don’t see each other often enough to get tired of each other. Or that because we’re miles apart, we don’t necessarily have the opportunity to work through any issues that may arise together; it’s always going to be a bit of a hit-or-miss scenario. I realise that this happens, and that there’s no way to anticipate the future, but the intellectualised admission of that fact doesn’t make it any easier to avoid thinking about.

I wish I lived in some sort of inflation-insulated gay bubble, in which my salary continued to be sufficient to get me across to Lahore every couple of weekends; and if only I didn’t have to stay at a hotel, it probably could. Unfortunately I can’t see any of my umpteen family members in Lahore being kind enough to allow me a shag-pad for the weekend, and I certainly can’t imagine a situation in which I could comfortably invite my friend to come and stay with me at any of their homes. It’s OK…highly inconvenient in terms of a budget, but OK.

The kicker though is that the more time you spend with someone with whom you’ve got some sort of romantic connection, the more valuable your time together becomes. And that’s when the kick-in-the-ass that is a long-distance relationship really starts leaving marks. All of a sudden, once-a-month trips don’t seem like they’re enough; and while on some level it seems ridiculous to be hiding in a hotel room in your own city over the course of a weekend, on another level, it just doesn’t make sense to open yourself up to a world of anxiety-cum-trauma by hosting the person you’re sleeping with at your home. Unless of course, you’re fortunate enough to live on your own.

Curfew Boy was supposed to come to Karachi this weekend, since a friend’s family was out of town and we could have stayed at her house for the weekend, but everything was just a little too last-minute, and so we decided to reschedule for next weekend. That bummed me out a certain amount in any case, because I really wanted to see him, but we both agreed it was probably for the best to chill out and wait for next weekend, which plan was promptly derailed by my friend’s father, who announced his intention to fly back next weekend. So now, although Curfew Boy is adamant that he wants to fly to Karachi to see me, I’m also wondering if I can–on principle of absurdity, if nothing else–really stay in a hotel within driving distance just so that we can spend some time together. Unfortunately, it’s not as though I have access to any free housing, and additionally I’d probably use a “work trip” as the excuse to be out of the house for the weekend–and that could get ugly since almost all the “fun” stuff to be done in this city is within hopping distance of my house, and by extension, my family.

So now, I’m wondering how I can manage to arrange some sort of romantic weekend getaway without actually having to leave Karachi behind. And short of checking into a hotel room–in which case I may as well travel elsewhere to sort myself out–I can’t think of any friends who would either have and/or be willing to put me up for a weekend locally, or be able to loan me an apartment/spare room/club housing.

This kind of blows.

Tags: karachi, romance, travel

This entry was posted on Sunday, July 13th, 2008 at 12:15 am and is filed under Ponderation. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.