regardless of the connection, it's abundantly clear that our paths are diverging. he's graduated from mooching cigarettes off of women to mooching experiences off of old men. wherever I'm going in life, I can't take him.

in the same way that he makes me feel culturally inept, like, I'm cool and exotic but not exotic like *her*, he's pretty much as standard as it gets for a guy who's been referred to as a "tumbleweed".

he looks at every beautiful woman like he's missing out on something. he gets doses of reality every once in a while when he realizes that the people around us could give two shits about him.

but it's me who brings the emotional brutality by telling him the truth - that I don't play these games anymore, that I've got other opportunities, too - and he's stuck on the thing he can leverage for a little bit of control.

I keep asking myself who this reminds me of, as if I don't already know the answer, but would I miss this if the call finally came through and I had the chance to finally put it all on stage?

the paradox is in wanting what you want - all of it and nothing at all - whether it pleases anyone else or not. imo, he's either a massive fraud or a fantastic liar or a deadbeat nepo baby or in the closet.