Sunday Afternoon

As I drop off my newest friend at the train station today, there was no place for me to park so I parked behind the gay bar nearby. Somehow at a quarter before five, I see a friend’s car in the parking lot and instantly see him outside. I see my friend get on the train, and decide that I must go into the bar to briefly talk to my friend that was already there.

It’s sad that at this point, I feel that our friendship is waning. In a large part, I feel most of my friendships are waning though. Preconceived notions are all around me. Everyone has someone out there for them. If not, you should just have random sex. Everyone has a bigger purpose, a role to fill. Fake it until you make it, unaware you’ve lived most of your life a lie. Is that all that life is about?

So my friendships wane because I can’t be in that spot in my life, and I think it with no bitter or sweetness. Life has no meaning except for what you make out of it. To me I find after all the relationships I’ve had I need to take a difference point of view on the ones I have and want to have, specifically the one with myself. Sex now provides me nothing but fear. Sex is not sexy, but a merging of two souls is a moment of gold.

I choose not to go to gay bars because, I don’t need to live my life in a moment of “he’s the one,” or “he’s the one for right now.” Along with the notions, “Party Hard,” and “Keep on Drinking.” So when I hear my friend tell me he’s ok with having sex for the first time without cumming, I think “That was a problem?” Out of everything in your life, sex is just about that? Why am I here on this planet to hear such “dire” issues? Why are you here on a Sunday afternoon, drinking away your loneliness caused by a personal dry season? I’ve had many a dry season, and I’m not talking prohibition or penis leakage. Call me a fool, but I’m sick of growing mold.

Giovanni

There is this knack I have for forgiving people for their behavior. If the past is any reward, it's that I shouldn't. Trying to be optimistic about it, I figure it's a sign that they aren't bad people, but that I shouldn't be around them. Sometimes I can just keep hoping for them to realize their mistakes or mishaps.

When I lived in Chicago I had my second job interview at a large retail chain. Supposedly according to the Manager, he knew I was going to be hired when he first saw me. I will always think that he knew he was going to hire me when he asked for my resume and references and saw that they were in a binder with Sex and the City on the cover. We instantly had something in common, conversation was granted at the pass of something I really should have known better then to have had my paperwork in. So much that at the interview I didn't do the typical handshake, I did a hug; my judgment on this interview was lapsed.

In less then a week I started working, and the Manager in the sense of title was a let down. He hardly was there, and when he was there he really didn't do much. For some reason, I wasn't a factor to me; and I ended up seeing him outside of work more then I did at work. Offhand he wouldn't seem like someone I would want to hang out with. He had this habit of saying some some negative things about people maybe as a joke; but they came with some truth. Specifically one time he was complaining about one co-worker, and then at the meeting pointed out her work and gave her a necklace.

When I eventually moved away from Chicago, he was the person I remained in contact with for the longest. Which was quite unexpected, because while we enjoyed each other's company; he did sometimes get on my nerves.

One morning in July 2009 before I went to work I was checking my facebook, and decided to look at his profile randomly to find out he had died about a week beforehand. Looking back I see how forgiving him of his behavior worked well for me, it just hasn't worked very well since.

Remainless

The humor is not lost
nor the tears
this build up has
taken forever
just about a year
pieceemealed
concealed
wrapped up
with a bow
for a birthday
anniversary
christmas
valentines
once more
the humor
brings smiles
with a small frown
for two things
are remainless

"That Guy"

There are moments in which songs instantly come to me, when they before made no sense. For the last year I had been dealing with what seemed like a constant back and forth with Chris; at least in my own mind. It was obvious how I felt to this point, and it seemed to me it was obvious how he felt. Chris’ birthday was two days before my own, and at this point we didn’t talk to each other for a couple of months. Not so much that we had something go wrong between us, but the last time we talked he made mention of in a couple of months he was going to be done with his first year in AA, and he wanted to talk then about seeing each other. Maybe it was foolish of me, but I figured that I didn’t want to pressure him to feel one way or another. So I messaged him on his birthday in the morning telling him happy birthday, and right before I got off work I got a message asking me to see him.

Right after work I drove through the worst rainstorm I had ever been in, which should have been a sign; but nothing was going to stop me from seeing him. So we went to dinner with his friends, and they came over and then they all left and I was going to leave but he made it seem like he wanted me there and to take off work the next day to hang out. So I did, still in my mind thinking that something was going in a month once he was done with his first year in AA. After that he made it very clearly that he wasn’t interested in dating me after his first year, he physically at least was off limits. In the morning I woke up, about an hour or two before he did; like all the times we did when we shared a bed. After a couple of minutes I went on his porch to smoke a cigarette. Allowing me for the first time to understand and enjoy Tori Amos’ “That Guy,” without even having to listen to it; it came to me. Magically I felt what she was feeling in that song.

After he woke up we had lunch, and went to the same mall we went to several times before; and he said he wanted to get me something for my birthday. My response was what was true, that I got what I wanted for my birthday; to spend it with him. Ever so determined still not knowing my truth, I said I wanted his hoodie that was Green, Blue and Yellow. The same hoodie I would wear when I would stay with him, because it was bright and felt like it belonged to me. In the end I guess it did belong to me, while he did not. Once I drove him back, I stood for a couple of hours; and he fell asleep and I enjoyed the last moments of my birthday, and my last moments with him. Now every time I wear the hoodie, I think of him. Every time I smoke a cigarette I do. Every time I hear “That Guy,” I think of him, and try to stop thinking of him at every chance he pops up.