Reflection and trying to figure out exactly what he was doing with himself didn't come easy. On the outside, Alex seemed to have his life figured out; a clear cut career path, a place of his own to call home, granted no partner to share life with, but for now, he was happy with that. What he wanted to really figure out is where her belonged; having internalised conflicts of interest where he stood on the LGBT rights fight messed with him big time. Some days he would be completely for everyone being whoever they want, slapping on as much make up as possible and watching drag shows, other days he would be disgusted by it and would be asking himself 'why can't people just look normal?'. His views never escaped his head; he never told anyone about the battle on the inside he was having with his internalised homophobic, he never actually said anything to anyone and confronted them if they were beating their face with some brush. Had he been conditioned by his foster family to think that men shouldn't wear make up and should be a stereotypical masculine man? Was he passing up on some great opportunities to be with some great people, based on the fact that they were camp? Of course he was. He wouldn't ever admit it to himself though, he just simply never found them attractive. 


Enough of that. He pulled himself together and away from his thoughts as he remembered he had a hot dog in his hand going cold. Falling into his thoughts was the bane of his life when there was nothing else going on around him; he would find himself completely lost and in an almost trance like state just thinking, staring at one fixed spot. It was a miracle that someone hadn't mugged him or tried to get him sectioned for being a mad man just sat in one spot for a prolonged period of time, fixated on one spot. Extra jumbo hot dog with mustard, ketchup, fried onion and a sprinkling of mushroom. Absolute perfection. Sure, the weather was warm, but it baffled him that people were beginning to appear in t shirts without a hoodie; Alex was wrapped up in a hoodie and a pair of joggers with his favourite pair of nike trainers. He had every intention of going for a run around the park then going to the gym, but instead he found himself sat down with a hot dog.


Procrastination was probably the worst of Alex's traits. When he's not on the clock, the longer he can put things to one side, the longer it will stay that way until it's last minute and he has to rush through everything. The idea of putting weight on and losing the body he has worked so long and so hard to achieve terrified him, but not as much as the idea of actually getting off his bum and doing something to maintain it.  Perhaps he needed to accept he's a lazy man in a fit man's body; his calorie intake definitely reflected it, and his bank statement would definitely confirm it with regular orders to the local fast food joints in town. 

At least it wasn't raining, right? Being sat on the bench in the park at least gave him some much needed fresh air and time to think about what he wanted to achieve and make a ten year plan, even if he wasn't getting anywhere with it. Being back in New Orleans made him feel like he was back home in one sense, but a total stranger to the area; there weren't any familiar faces running around, it was almost like he had thrown himself into a whole new world, yet he knew his way around this stranger of a town. It really was time to sink or swim. 

He sighed after taking the last bite of his hot dog and placed the flimsy paper napkin in his pocket with the full intention of moving at some point to put it in the trash, and took in a good view of his surroundings. He could let the hot dog sit and digest, then go for a run, it wasn't like the park was too busy. Deep down, he was hoping something would give him a reason not to have to push himself off for that dreaded run.