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Archive for March, 2010

Sigh

Can I be angry that I met him? Now, during all this chaos of his? The timing, I mean, what does it mean? I DON’T want to hang out with other people, I want to hang out with him. SIGH, motherfuckin SIGH. Why did he come looking for me and why did he find me now? He’s not ready for me. Well, he is the one that said hi, and continued to say hi and eagerly said, well HI. So, how do I deal with this? How do I pretend I didn’t meet someone who feels like they were always there? Like they aren’t new. Like they’ve been there forever? How do you disengage from that? Should I even disengage? Am I being impatient? I’m not asking for some huge committment from him at the moment, I just don’t want the connection to go away. Feeling so plugged in to another individual that silence says more than words. UGH and SIGH. So, what do I do with all this? I can’t sleep at the moment. It’s been raining and raining and flooding outside, the crazy barometric pressure has my head wanting to explode and I have tons of work to do for various projects I am involved in. Yet, I am not distracted enough by any of that to forget about him and how good it feels just to be sitting next to him and holding his hand, no words, nothing besides that quiet connection that screams louder at me than anything I can remember.

Sigh.

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Depression is a not so beautiful beast. From it great works of art , literature, music and momentous change can occur or it can quite simply devour an individual and take others in it’s path as collateral damage. Brooklyn is 80% IN IT right now. Remember that line, in Garden State, when Natalie Portman’s character says to Zach Braff’s character, while sitting by the giant fireplace after he is finished talking about his mother, “You’re in it right now, aren’t you?”  Great movie, by the way, but I digress. Brooklyn had spent a week suckling the teat of depression until the breeze changed last night. But let me rewind and start at last Tuesday AFTER my last post.

I hadn’t spoken to Brooklyn since the previous Friday. He had emailed me a very short message on Monday, but I ignored it because it seemed so vague and without meaning. A weak attempt at bridging the distance without addressing anything that hung in our faces. On Wednesday, as I was checking some final email’s, the weather report and cnn.com, I get an IM on google chat from him. He’s drinking the tea I sent. He talks for a couple of minutes and then, as it seems he is going to end the conversation, I jump ahead and tell him I have to go. I have let him lead the way for too long. All his leading did, was get us lost.  

I had no plans to talk to him again until he contacted me, playing a silly game of supply/demand, however, I woke up Thursday morning to find that my foster cat had died. She was curled up under the guest bed in the spare room and dead. I have no idea what might have happened. She MIGHT have been sick and no one knew, but she was only 7 and seemed fine days ago. I live in a multi unit condo building built in the early 1900’s. My feeling is that one of the units without pets placed poison down for the mice, one of those mice made it into my condo prior to dying and due to its being poisoned, it was slow enough to be caught and potentially eaten by said foster cat. That is the only idea I can come up with that seems feasible. She hadn’t left my condo in 3 weeks, was eating Wellness cat food, had fresh water, seemed to be using the litter box without issue and, when the dog was sleeping, she would come out to get loves and pets. So, needless to say I was stunned, shocked, upset, sad and confused, which led me to text him that I had woken up to find the cat dead.He responded with shock as well. Feeling a little needy, I texted him later that evening just to tell him that I missed him. He wrote back hours later that things are insane for him at the moment, everything is too much and he just can’t see the world through the immediate chaos. I let him know that I wasn’t telling him I missed him out of need for a guilt laden response, I merely was feeling his absence and wanted to let him know. I know! I KNOW! I totally showed my hand.

We didn’t talk on Friday, but that evening I received an oddly life appropriate tarot reading that led me to email him at 4:30 am. 3 am is normal but 4:30 am isn’t too atypical of me, by the way. The email was light, just a lot of Hey, we haven’t been talking much and so we are out of touch with what the other is doing/working on, so here’s all the stuff going on with me. Hope all is well in your part of the world. I followed that up with an early Saturday afternoon text hoping that he was having fun with the kids and relaxing. Unfortunately, the returned message was grim and sounded like he was one step from jumping in front of a train. I left him a voice mail reiterating that he doesn’t have to go through this alone, that he has FRIENDS to whom he can lean on.

I spent that afternoon with my barista friend as we both had time to kill and needed distraction from our individual romantic dramas. We met at his Starbucks and wandered around for a bit before deciding on eating some Malaysian food. I then grabbed myself a Jin deui from around the corner (sesame ball filled with red bean paste) and we wandered to a local high-end home goods store for shits and giggles. AMAZING SALE on these cool Mio sculptural wall tiles, which means I can now finish THAT corner of my condo AND for only $30 total!!After an hour of sitting on the floor of a local bookstore we decided a cocktail was in order. I watched him drink gin (ugh, yuck, shoot me first) as I drank vanilla brandy and Limoncello. The rum is off my radar for a bit. We finished up, he walked me to my train and we parted ways. Me, home to my pup and the faithful internet. Him,off to booze it up with some friends and some PBR. Umm, eww.

Now, by Sunday night I hadn’t heard from Brooklyn and he had said he would talk to me over the weekend. I decided the funny approach would work. I sent an email with the subject line,”Giant Sinkhole opens up and swallows man. He is never heard from again.”  In the body I just place a smiley emoticon. Ten minutes later I receive a reply,”It’s called depression”, I then try to show that I understand and that I relate, that I have been in the pits of depression at points in my life and I understand how tasty the marrow of it can be, how sucking all the sorrow out of that bone can be oh so good, BUT, that he has friends and he can call upon us just to yell and go ARRRRGH and GRRRRRR if he needs to. For him just to see and understand this. He replies shortly after that he does in fact see and understand that, and, even though it may appear as if he is wallowing, it is no where near what he has done in the past, but that he just can’t handle the world at the moment. I end the night by reiterating, if he needs anything, just let me know.

Now, I assume that this is the end of communication for days, if not a week. However, suddenly he appears of Facebook saying hello a couple of hours later. He asks me if I have met Crab Ass Brooklyn and I introduce him to Obnoxiously Heart in the Right Place Friend and then we laugh and proceed to have the most normal chat we have had in weeks. In fact, at the end, I mention a new symphony by Lieberson based upon Neruda Poems, and that I was excited to hear it once they released the recordings because his last works were gorgeous and intense. Brooklyn then says, without missing a beat, “like you”. Come again?! All I said was a simple thank you, but holy there’s the Brooklyn I know, and adore, Batman! We both sign off right after that and I go to bed with a smile.

Funny thing, he gets all chatty Cathy with me twice on Monday, even calling me punky at one point. Hmm, Earth to Brooklyn, are you coming up for air? I am hesitant to get too excited and I am keeping a little more emotional distance this go around. I also have two dates this coming weekend. One is a former “rock star”/dj turned designer and the other is, oh man, he’s been out of the country for a month, I forget what he does. Ha Ha.

So, this is where I stand, Brooklyn’s hot water tank may have gotten fixed and I have two dates in the pipeline. As I sit here eating edamame with Franks Red Hot and snuggling with my pooch, I am a bit more content than I was a week ago today. I miss the cat though. So, perhaps this journey isn’t going to have me making out with Natalie Portman in an airport like Zach Braff, but perhaps it will have a far better outcome than was looking possible only days ago.

To Foster Kitty, 2003-2010

Tuesday Posts are web-syndicated by www.thenewgay.net

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Brooklyn and I have been having some strangeness since we almost had sex. He has grown distant, become quieter, looked me in the eyes less. Things are off. Things are wrong. We met for a little under 2 hours last Thursday. The weather was beautiful so I drove up to his town to take my dog to the beach and meet him for a little down time. The friend vibe was palpable. It was strange. It wasn’t him.

We spent some time chatting on-line later that night, again, quieter, less verbose and interested. I tried kicking up the naughty flirt, to see how he would react, and he didn’t. Finally he commented that I “need to get laid”. Ouch. that didn’t feel like the previous we should get naked together comments he would pepper our occasional chats with. That felt like,”you should go fuck someone, not me, but someone.”  I was surprised that he would say something like that and even more surprised that it stung like it did.

I spoke with my pal Assoc. Prod/Musician about the situation and asked his advice. Should I write Brooklyn an email calling him out on the cold shoulder action and the sting of his “light-hearted” comment? AP/M and I agreed that I should step back from Brooklyn for a bit and that an email was justified. So, I wrote it up, had AP/M proof read for craziness and after getting the thumbs up, I held my breath and hit send.

The next morning I had an email from Brooklyn, apologizing for hurting my feelings with the comment, telling me that he has been scheduling me in when he doesn’t have time and that I have become inconvenient AND that ever since we almost had sex, which reaffirmed his feelings that he wasn’t ready to be that physical with anyone, he has been uncomfortable around me. Jesus Christ people!  He thinks I want more than him. Grrr Grrr Grrr, Argh Argh Argh

I have told him since the beginning that I never wanted him to turn me into a chore, a to-do list item that he needed to schedule around, a responsibility or a drama. That I was here as I am, to enjoy time together, when we have it. I originally said, “no sex til you are out of that house.” We agreed. He put MY hand DOWN his pants and on HIS cock in the family van the night of my b-day. I was following HIS lead. Who am I to say whether he is ready to be physical? This is his call. He seemed to be making the call by suggesting overnights, or getting naked together, or trips away. Are you kidding me?!

So,, now I have scared 34-year-old boy, back pedaling and hiding his head in the sand and looking for excuses. His email was line after line of excuses.  I responded in line that before he assume how much I am asking of him, how much I need or require, that he ASK me. I put the ball in his court. He needs to decide what the hell he feels for me. I am fine with a casual affair minus the sex. I care deeply for him but I can handle that. I am NOT fine with , ” but we will always be friends”, IF that is what he comes back with. Not now, maybe later, but I can not just suddenly turn a switch on how I feel about him and it would be completely unfair of him, after pursuing me, romancing me, telling me how wonderful and unique and stellar I am, to expect me to ignore the last month and act like we don’t have the connection that we both know we do.

Ok people, seriously, chime in here, cause I am uber annoyed. I told him I needed some space, atleast til Monday but I feel I am going to take more. I hate games, but he needs to remember why he likes me, he needs to feel my absence a bit. So, he can sweat this out a bit. I am not a fucking yo yo. So, what do you all think?  Is there a possibility that his head will come out of his ass? Should I do like the Clash? Should I stay (casually and realistically that this will be a SLOW drawn out process of self discovery for him) or should I go ?

Tuesday posts are web syndicated by www.thenewgay,net

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