Regardless, I did all the stuff I don’t do in Montreal like going to the beach, sleep and watch international TV like Tve (from Spain,) Rai (from Italy,) CTTV4 (from China in English, Spanish and Chinese) , TV5 (from France,) DW (form Germany,) plus Canadian TVA (from Montreal in French) and CTV (English) and also CNN (which never failed to deliver a good laugh with their elections and Trump’s incredibly lunacy).
Anyhow below my day-to-day if you’re in the mood to read my crap.
Day 1. A Japanese guy: At the breakfast resto looking for a coffee I spotted and Asian guy coming my way, he was also looking for something. I pretended not seen him but we exchanged glances, we did it again later and at one point he said hi to me and had few words but we never had a real conversation, because my brother was always around cock-blocking my opportunities. However I wasn’t sure the Japanese dude was gay. Either way, he was good looking and had a great smile.
Day 2. Beautiful Eyes: Day two felt like week 2 ’cause I already had a dose of ocean, food and alcohol the previous day. It s incredible how incapable I am to enjoy anything when I’m lacking sex, but anyway… There I was in the beach again working on my tan when a lady that walks around the beach selling hats recognised me (I bought her a hat the previous day) from afar and there under the Caribbean sun she yelled at me “beautiful eyes” waving at me… I waved back and that moment I decided to stop breaking my head with stupid men and enjoy my little break before going back to the meat market that is the gay dating life. (Btw, when I was at the airport Paul texted me wishing me a good trip, reminding me to text him once back).
Day 3. Hurt Myself #Fail: Trying to keep the good habit I started on Tuesday, I went to the mini gym of the hotel after breakfast and did what I could with what they had, despite having my arms sore from the previous day. I had no choice, by then I’ve spend 3 days drinking alcohol in all forms even if I didn’t want … I mean even the coffee had rum. I guess the strongest drink I had was caipirinhas (Brazil national cocktail) which is aguardente, sugar and lime juice. Not only my fitness but my liver as well was asking me to stop. Seen the youngsters drinking nonstop made me feel nostalgic somehow… Later at night, my muscles were so contracted that I couldn’t sleep because of the pain, which continued for 4 more days.
Day 4. Roasted: October is not the best season to go to the Caribbean, the weather is not the best. Regardless, I spent every single morning at the beach. By then I wasn’t only tan, but roasted.
Day 5. Popping Pills: I went to see a doctor and she gave me an analgesic and muscle relaxants… needles to say I wasn’t having a good time at all with the horrible pain. I wasn’t even horny, but there was not much to see anyway… Most of the guys (tourists) were straight and terribly out of shape. Not that I’m a 10/10 but all those kids were in their 20s/prime years. If ever, my fat and flaws have an excuse. I’m an inglorious dinosaur pushing andropause.
Day 6. More Ocean: My days were pretty much the same, so I spent another morning in the ocean, the only place I felt better physically and psychologically. In my desire for relief I wanted for the ocean to take away all that was hurting me, memories included. By then also, my system was clean of alcohol and soft drinks.
Day 7. Joseph: The last day I had a dream, I dreamt of one of my ex’s… I saw Joseph with me and I woke up thinking of him. My dream probably didn’t mean anything (or maybe it did since the last time I saw the ocean he was the one in my life) but he always meant a lot to me… I also thought of him on his birthday (Sept 8th) and silently I wished him happy bday. He probably forgot about me, but I’d never forget the guy I loved and rescued me from myself not even knowing it.
The day was long waiting for my plane to go back home, where emptiness, open arms, welcomed me when I opened my door.
In short my last trip to Cuba (ever) was very relaxed. And today, again, I’m already getting ready to go on a date in order to stop thinking of Xavier.
In fact, the forecast for the week announces the same.