Thomas Julian Kemp (asterismos) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2013-02-19 15:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | jameson kemp, thomas kemp |
WHO: Thomas Kemp, open to Jamie Kemp but can stand alone
WHAT: Just sadnesses
WHEN: Tuesday evening
WHERE: His apartment
Being silly on the internet with his handy web-enabled phone was the one solace Thomas had had during work on Tuesday. He had found yet more self-help pamphlets in his pigeonhole and it seemed now whomever was taking it upon themselves to decide his son was somehow flawed had also decided Thomas himself needed help. The pamphlets were for dealing with grief. Grief. The people who wanted to de-gay his son now thought he was suffering grief because Jamie wasn't interested in women?
He had shredded the pamphlets immediately and felt a moment of gratification afterwards. It was short-lived. Thomas was already fairly sure he didn't want to continue working with people who acted like this upon hearing the son of one of their co-workers was gay. It was ridiculous and uncomfortable and he didn't want to continue spending time there and keeping such a big thing from his son while at home. Thomas was proud of Jamie and he loved him for who he was. His son's sexuality hardly ever came up, it was just who he was. He firmly believed defining people who their sexuality was a horrible thing to do and Thomas didn't want to be anywhere near it.
Thomas avoided the staff room all day and by the time he finally arrived home after five, he was ravenous. He was going to have to find somewhere off campus to eat the next day, because waiting until home time wasn't particularly pleasant. He felt too exhausted to focus on cooking anything as well, which was distinctly unhelpful.
He grabbed an apple on his way through the kitchen and once in his bedroom, Thomas toed out of his shoes. He shed his coat as well and then, abandoning the apple on the nightstand completely, he fell backwards onto his bed and let out a rather loud and groaning sigh.
Finding jobs was difficult. Not screaming at his co-workers for being demented was also difficult. Being an adult was hard and Thomas was pretty sure he was ready to give it up. It was one of those rare times he really wished he had a partner he could talk to. He knew his family was there for him and Victor was proving himself to be a wonderful new friend, but it wasn't the same. If Thomas had someone in his life, they could talk something like this out. They could make decisions together. But like always, Thomas had to figure this out by himself.
It sort of made him want to cry. Probably the lack of anything in his stomach didn't help that.
With another groan up to his ceiling, he draped his arm over his face. His bed was comfortable at least, and a handy place to lie, flung and upset. He knew he should probably check to see if Jamie was home and find something for their dinner, but a tiny part of him wanted to ignore any and all responsibilities and stay right where he was. He was lonely, frustrated and worried and wasn't it just easier to stay in bed, curled in a ball?
Thomas knew which part of him would win eventually. He would take care of his son and himself because pouting would achieve nothing. He just wanted a few moments to indulge the childish part of himself he had had to abandon well before it's time.