Home > Life or something like it > Entry 05/29/2006 04:50:38 PM – Mentat 275

Entry 05/29/2006 04:50:38 PM – Mentat 275

     T-minus twelve and counting…

     And the chaos that I’m currently feeling, utterly maddening.  I have taken upon me the whirlwind in the hopes of understanding a man, and in the process, have found myself in the place I had been thirteen years ago, when I had fallen so hard for a man, that when the reality has struck both of us, I ended up hurting so much worse than I did when I found out from Darin that he no longer loved me, and abused prescription medications and pot in order to escape.    The grounding so complete, I had introverted for months trying to figure which way was up and down within my heart. 
     While it’s not going to happen quite as badly…  It’s still feeling like a similar precipice I’m standing at, trying to understand what I had done yesterday out of compassion, out of lust, out of desire, and out of trying to understand another soul I had touched in my wanderings in my life. 
     His name is Charles. 

     It started two nights ago.  I had decided to wander out from MSN Chat over to gay.com because the chat that had been going on in MSN had reached critical limit, and was becoming rather bland.  I admit that I had popped back and forth through gay.com on Saturday just to see who was out enjoying the sunlight and the spring-like day.  Apparently most people did, because who was pretty much left were nothing more than taking up space and bandwidth in chat.  Upon the third time — which was sometime in the middle of the evening, I decided on dropping a sarcastic comment about it being more lively in a morgue. 
     About ten or so minutes later, I get a message from someone that I had seen come in and out of there on occasion, and had caught my attention when I had first saw him, thinking to myself that I wouldn’t be worthy enough to get his attention.  Four hours later, and a whole lot of chatting, some of which was comical, some of it was trying to figure who was dryer in sarcasm than the other, and some moderately serious, he ended up giving me his phone number with the promise that I would call him around ten the next morning, providing that I didn’t go to bed too late… 
     The next morning, I ran late.  Partially because I didn’t have the gumption to get my butt in gear, take a shower, get dressed, cut my hair, and make the call.  Mostly because I couldn’t work up the courage to actually make the call.  I did work up the courage though — at about 10:30 to be exact.  And just when I thought I was going to get off the hook because he didn’t pick it up on the fourth ring, and I thought that I was going to voicemail, I had to choke up the courage and talk. 
     I think we talked for an hour.  Or someplace in that neighborhood.  He had hoped I would drive up in his direction, and for that one moment, I was ashamed of the fact that I didn’t work on my license issue sooner, and had to admit to the plain and simple fact that I couldn’t drive.  So instead of going with what I thought would’ve been best and meeting him on truly neutral ground — like Providence Place Mall, when he offered to come get me here at my aunt and uncle’s I said yes. 

     He got here in record time…  He got a little lost in the process, but not so bad that he found himself in downtown Woonsocket and wondering how the hell to get back to where he needed to go.
     Was outside when he arrived…  I was standing on the porch…  He coming up in his Toyota truck.  Got an image in afterthought of a knight on a white steed.  Got my stuff together…  Opened the door…  Saw him sitting there…  Felt so out of my league, but worked on the assumptions that nothing would come of it, and I was there to hear the story he had promised to tell me. 
     My god, then the omens…  There were too many to shake a stick at.  First off, heading down Rhodes Ave and on the side of the road is this house with garbage bags out on their front lawn early for the garbage collector, and sorting through it are these three huge ravens, picking at what they want to take with them.  Not sure whether it was food or refuse, but what I know is, it was rather gruesome to watch. 
     Then on 146 South, when he and I were negotiating where to go from here, instead of taking the turn we were supposed to — ended up almost shooting right on by it.  Then when we did shoot by it, it became a rapid renegotiation of where to go quickly before we ended up lost.  So we ended up taking to an old standby (Chili’s) which there was a new one near the old Lincoln Mall. 
     We had talked during the meal.  Some of it light, much of it genealogy, some of it historical.   I covered a couple of trivial aspects of what I had learned in my travels and living in various parts of the country.  Most of it though was learning and listening to Charles as he weaved me a little of the tale of his family and his heritage. 

     Next omen.  Outside of Chili’s on our way out to his truck, he sees someone that used to live with him.  An omen I’m rather used to dealing with when it comes to my life personally, but in the last couple of years I’ve noticed that it’s extended out from just myself to those that I feel something for.  That omen/ability of mine is running into people that I need to learn something from at that moment, and don’t expect to run into at the time that I do.  But as I said, this has been extending out for some time now — years in fact — and it seemed that at this very moment, Charles needed to learn something from this man. 
     That’s when the story comes out… 
     It was a whirlwind. 
     It was incredible.
     It was overwhelming the amount of information I had received in the time that I had received it. 
     I was in awe.  Mostly because of the amount of information shared and the way that I was able to absorb most of it without issue. 
     I was trying to understand.  
     I was trying to offer some advice as to why things were the way that they were, and why the state he was in, was the way that it was. 
     I was admiring his grayish-green-hazel eyes the entire time, trying to understand some of the things that I had seen going on underneath his demeanor. 

     We had gone from Chili’s in Lincoln to Diamond Hill State Park in Cumberland.  We had walked up to the top of the hill there, and up on the rocks in some secluded part of the park where I could focus exclusively on him, and not have to worry about all the intrusions and all the distractions of the world at large.  During the story and up at the top of the hill there, I began fighting impulses of wanting to kiss him. 
     There were times when the impulse was light.  There were times when I thought that I had the impulse under control…  But apparently I was wrong, because Charles noticed it in my eyes when he saw a gray ring show up there..  He also noticed an orange color — but I was wearing orange at the time, and no matter how much he told me that it wasn’t reflection from the shirt, I had a feeling that it was. 

     I kissed Charles up there on top of the hill. 
     I had forgotten what it was like to kiss another man, it had been that long. 
     It was warm…  strong…  more natural and not as forced or as nervous as it felt when I tried to kiss Will… 
     I liked it.  I wanted to kiss him more. 
     I got the distinct impression he liked it too, because he didn’t pull away. 
     We had talked…  We had wandered about a bit more at the top of the hill…  I got all sorts of images, and ideas and thoughts and impressions from talking with him. 
     I saw that he wants children. 
     I saw that he was in a state where he’s waiting for the right catalyst in order to come out of the state of flux he finds himself in. 
     I saw a man that wanted to love again. 
     I saw a man that wanted to trust another man again.  
     I saw that he had strength, and even felt it in the simple thing of holding my hand. 

     Someplace up there on the top of that hill, a transference had occurred.  The very thing that I wanted him to have at the beginning of the conversation when we had reached the summit, and at the end of his long tale of the journey he’s taken so far.  The moment of grounding and the moment of peace that comes from him wanting to understand what he had been going through, coupled with the peace of taking a break from it.  A moment’s respite. 
     We had headed back to his truck.  Me having a hell of a time trying to stay in the here and now.  Being terribly ungrounded as well as incredibly euphoric.  On the way back, he had made a comment about being tempted to bring me up to his place, although it was half-hearted.  I had seriously considered breaking my cardinal rule about that on a first date, saying that if he were to, I wouldn’t object.  But fortunately, he had more strength in this than I did, and at the moment, I’m feeling incredibly stupid and coming off way too easy/sleazy for my own tastes or even likes.  Not to mention the more that I think about it, the more I feel the absolute fool. 

     Another omen had occurred when I got home.  Two actually if I count the last twenty-four hours.  I felt emotionally and physically drained from spending the time that I had.  In performing the transference to give Charles the grounding that I did.  I had come home and had a quick disco nap to recharge the old batteries.  While I was laying there propped up on the couch, listening to my MP3s, when the song “Still” by Tamia played, I was awoken abruptly.  I could smell the clean scent of Charles near me.  I could for one moment also feel his presence.  It had so infuriated me that I stormed out of the room and outside in order to recover equilibrium. 
     This happened a second time at four this morning, when I had awoken the exact same way, and couldn’t fall back to sleep immediately as I had hoped.  In fact, I think it took me something like an hour of meditating in order to return to sleep. 

     And I still pay the terrible price of this transference.  Which is where I am at the very moment. 
     Someplace between sanity and madness.  Need and self-sufficiency.  Wanting to talk with Charles no matter the cost, and realizing that there’s this breather time folk like he and I need in order to get our feelings and our impulses in order. 
     And is it ever maddening to the spoiled child that I can sometimes be. 

     Well, I’ve put quite enough into this journal entry for the time being..  Tomorrow..  I self-examine…  Hopefully I won’t be so ungrounded for that.  Or there will be hell to pay. 

     Until the next time…
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