Home > Life or something like it > Entry 01/01/2006 02:13:54 PM – Mentat 219

Entry 01/01/2006 02:13:54 PM – Mentat 219

01/02/2006

     The first entry of the New Year, and already got quite a bit of the drama that I had held off writing about from yesterday.  Not surprising given that I wanted to take Saturday to coast through the remainder of 2005 before I had to start tackling things that seem to have greater issues in the making. 

 

     The first and foremost has to do with the fact that dear old Josh has done the thing that I knew he was going to do in regards to Paul in California and welch on his offer to help Paul out of California, and ditched him for some of the most inane of reasons.  I had found out about this yesterday early morning, when I had gotten up and got a message from him asking me whether I was mad at him…  (Why in god’s name would I be mad at him, I had asked him — he’s done nothing to me that involved lying, cheating, or backstabbing).  He then told me the story that Josh’s been saying that Paul’s been internet whoring himself out to whoever he could, and that he was no longer going to be going out there to rescue Paul from homelessness.  At first; I thought of confronting Josh the instant that he came online, but when I saw him yesterday afternoon — I admit that I had a change of heart and decided against it — mostly because I wasn’t in the mood to be airing dirty laundry in a public forum. 

     I think the thing that really works my nerves about this is the fact that I warned Josh well in advance that he shouldn’t remotely get emotionally entangled with Paul; part of the reason having to do with the fact that it makes for bad Samaritanism.  But he didn’t listen to me in the least and ended up blaring out to the rooms there that he and Paul were an "item".  Add to the fact that Josh has a notorious reputation for going through Internet "boyfriends" (for lack of a better term) — especially given the fact that he breaks up with them for the stupidest and silliest of reasons (when he’s in control) or totally fucks up the way he should be handling them (when he’s not). 

     As a consequence, I had sort of chastised Paul (in the nicest of ways) that he should have known better NOT to have gotten involved with Josh, given the fact that he knows Josh as well as I do (for one), and that he needs to get his stuff squared away before he starts thinking about relationships (for two).  Paul didn’t make any comment on this for the most part, and asked for me to talk with Josh and get this shit in order in order for the "rescue" to continue. 

     Frankly — the more that I think about this as I sit here writing about the events that had taken place — it might be in Paul’s best interest not to follow through with going to Nebraska to live with Josh.  I’ve been hearing from other people that have dealt with Josh, and he’s not the most stable person to be living with let alone be rescued by.  But it’s in Paul’s best interest to get the hell out of there, and it would be quite some time before I would be able to pull off his rescue myself… 

     So, I’m thinking that I’ll approach Josh’s bullshit sometime this week and say, "what the fuck is up with you, welcher?"

 

     The other issue, isn’t so much an issue but something that’s definitely given me pause.  I had the opportunity to talk with Jeff yesterday, and he was telling me that he had been out of commission for a couple of days, as his appendix had exploded and had to have an emergency appendectomy performed.  He had told me his sister was supposed to call and leave me the information. 

     Unfortunately, I had to tell Jeff that if she called, then it’s entirely possible either the message is still in the voicemail (if she did call the day before yesterday), or if she had called earlier in the week, it’s entirely possible that she wasn’t able to leave a message, as the voicemail box had been full for most of the Christmas Holiday (mainly because Jeannie wanted a quiet Christmas Holiday, and didn’t want to deal with either voicemail for the Foundation, or for Longaberger). 

     So we started talking a little about the drama from the surgery, the fact that he should’ve been on some sort of analgesic and/or pain medication, and shouldn’t be drinking if he’s on it.  He told me that he wasn’t on any meds; as he didn’t buy any — but did admit to be drinking pretty heavily. 

     I had strongly suggested that he stop, because drinking that soon after surgery really isn’t a good thing.  Not to mention it’s not the sort of thing one should do when they’re feeling lonely for the New Year’s Holiday…  So he said that he stopped — but I have to say that by the time he had gotten around to actually stopping the damage was pretty much done.  He was clearly going through some form of melancholia and that he decided that he wanted to talk a little about wanting to "keep in touch" with me in spite of everything that had been going on. 

     Clearly points were missed — on both sides of that lovely communication.  And of course, I had figured it out after the fact when he had said to me, "the past is the past" and that he would "…like to work on something for the future".  Because no sooner than he had said that I had asked the question, "how does one build for the future if you’re forgetting the past?" 

 

     The problem here is something that has to do with aging, and my stubborn determination towards holding to specific traditions to dating, courtship, and relationships.  In the last couple of years since I had broken up with Rick — I realize that many men my age seem to forget what it was like to have the excitement of dating, of working towards something, of the build up towards actually saying a pair are now "steady".  Instead, what they do is they take all these assumed shortcuts and say they’re going steady after a string of passionate nights, and weekends, and call it a relationship.  With the Internet, it becomes even faster, as most of the work is done in one’s head without actually meeting in real time taking further shortcuts in the process.

     This is something I’m not going to fall into, follow, or remotely subscribe to. 

 

     I want the whole works. 

 

     I want the romance.  I want the dating.  I want the passion and the mystery.  I don’t want to say, "hey, we’re steady now" when there’s no work other than a couple of conversations, and the admission of a mutual attraction towards two people.  Hell — I’m a gay man for Christ’s sake.  And while things are quite fast even for queerfolk — there’s no way in hell I’m about to start shorting myself of what little mysteries and passion I can get in my lifetime…  I might not get the fifty years together with the same man, now that I’m forty-one, but I am damn well going to get the mystery out of it, if you know what I mean. 

 

     So, as I sit here writing in my journal many hours later than when I had originally started the entry (it’s currently 8:25 PM), it’s taken some of the afternoon of addressing what I’ve been writing here, and what I’ve had in my head to realize that I really do need to talk this out with Jeff and explain to him — "uh, dude — I’m a romantic.  Want me?  Romance me."

 

     As for the rest of the afternoon.  Heh, well I sat downstairs watching some of the Steelers’ game…  Which was almost (but not quite) excruciating, as I had to listen to the testosterone of men ranting at bad moves, and whooping good place; and saying within my heart of hearts, "thank god I’m a gay man, and don’t get this excited even when watching the Food Network, when Rachael Ray makes something interesting with a side of beef in less than thirty minutes."  And when the men (Charlie, Sam, and Charlie’s cousin who’s name is currently escaping me at the moment) had broken up , with Charlie and Sam going outside to pick up Pawlee’s dog-poo around the yard, and Charlie’s cousin going home to his wife and child, Jeannie and I being in the house at the time, promptly changed the channel to the Food Network (of course), with flashes over to QVC, HSN, and I think QVC-2 to see what’s up for sale, and what they’re going to have in the next hour. 

     Heh, I swear, Jeannie’s such a home shop-a-holic.  But it was entertaining nonetheless, as I got to indulge in a queer folk’s most sacred pastime of heckling what the presenter was wearing or saying.  Which is always a good thing. 

 

     And now I sit here, wrapping up for the night, and realizing that the next thing I’m going to be doing before I tuck myself to bed, is write the e-mail to Jeff, and my brother that I had discussed with Jeannie.  And hopefully, I’ll be able to say what’s on my mind, and within my heart, without being harsh…  Without being critical…  And who knows…  Maybe some good will come out of it. 

 


 

[Last Edited: 01/01/2006 10:50:42 PM]

 

     It’s pretty amazing sometimes how I allow the passion and the whim of the moment, to formulate and even form the way things are going to be played out for the future (in the present).  For the last couple of hours, I had been sitting here putting together an e-mail to Jeff about what it is I am, how I feel, how I approach things, and when I got to the last point — the point about his apparent lack of self-esteem and wanting to buckle and run under the slightest of self-conscious press — I said, "Um, No.  I refuse to find myself trying to bolster another man’s self-esteem."  I failed the last time — and it almost destroyed me in the process. 

     So I basically wrapped up the e-mail by telling him it’s most probably would be in our best interest to accept what’s plainly in front of us — platonic (albeit casual) friendship — rather than assume a relationship is going to come out of it. 

 

     And almost (but not quite) surprisingly, as I take an internal temperature of my feelings and my decision, I’m finding myself still feeling rather calm and even good-natured about the decision that I’m making in this.  I’m probably riding the high that I’m beginning work tomorrow, and that I’ve survived to 2006 without the trials and tribulations of 2005 killing me, or having me end up in a gutter someplace.  But then again — it could be because of other things going on within me.  I’ll be sure to meditate on this over the next couple of days, and see if this decision remains standing… 

 

     Interestingly enough, as I draw this journal entry to a close, and I listen to my semi-possessed MP3 player; Boy Krazy’s song seems almost apropos (and yet almost an anti-climax) to what’s going on here in this entry:

 

That’s what love can do

I don’t want to

break your heart in two

And leave you crying

I want you to know,

I’m letting you go…

 

You’re just a fool

You say that I’m number one,

And you’ll always be true,

How can this be?

You say you’ve fallen in love

You don’t know what it means

 

But look around and you will see

Broken promises and jealousy

Is that what you want for us to be?

One time lover turned enemy

 

But that’s what love can do

I don’t want to break your heart in two

And leave you crying

That’s what love can do, whoa-no

I want you to know, I’m letting you go

 

All I can say

Is that I’m looking no further ahead than today

Too young for this game

On the road to forever we don’t know the way

 

So just forget about eternity

All the promises we just can’t keep

Look down any street that’s what you’ll see

I don’t want to bring you to your knees

 

But that’s what love can do

I don’t want to break your heart in two

And leave you crying

That’s what love can do, whoa-no

I want you to know, I’m letting you go

 

    


 

     Well, that’s about it for the time being.  Until the next time.

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