Home > Life or something like it > Entry 02/15/2007 01:51:30 PM – Mentat 318

Entry 02/15/2007 01:51:30 PM – Mentat 318

02/15/2007
     It’s hard to believe that yesterday was Valentine’s Day.  It’s harder for me to imagine that yesterday was the third anniversary of Rick telling me that he wanted out, and that he was moving out for Valentine’s Day to his own place.  I can still remember that I had offered to take him out to Cowtipper’s in spite of the fact that he had announced to me that we were breaking up.  I remember deep inside the feeling of relief I had received when he had made the announcement, because I knew right there and then — all the pain, all the hardship, all the abuse, and all of the hiding my feelings and heart were over — even though mentally I think I was still trying to wrap my brain around the fact that it was in fact over.  I remember sitting there at Cowtipper’s with Rick, and not really saying much of anything — being in my own world most of the time we had been there.  One thing that I remembered was the gay couple and friends over at a table not too far from our own, and thinking to myself, someday once this was all behind me, that I might be able to laugh and have a good time like they were having.  I remember going home with Rick…  Other than that — the rest of the day is a gray blur. 
     The next day that I remember was taking a day out of work to help Rick move into his own apartment.  For the last couple of years, I had thought the dinner was purchased and the move out happened on the same day — but looking at the calendar for three years ago — Valentine’s Day had fallen on a Saturday, which would be impossible because at the time I didn’t work weekends.  Although — I see that it was Friday the 13th the day before of which I recall quite vividly now that that Friday had been quite a hellish day because of the fighting the night before, and that I had been pulled into an office at least three times that day for my frightful attitude towards people on the phone (a day, I will add, I have not repeated since).  Perhaps it was the Monday or Tuesday after Valentine’s that I had helped him move out.  I can’t be sure and I’m not going to go searching through my journals from past years to figure it out.  It’s the past — and while it’s not necessarily a good time back then — it’s not necessarily bad either looking back at it…  Particularly given that I’m still here, I’m feeling better about everything, and the pain and the insanity of that time is packed away with the rest of the old things that no longer fit me. 
     Then there was last year’s little emotional meltdown that I had gone through involving almost eight months of suppressing my hurt and my feelings involving Will, and how in a homeless shelter in Pennsylvania, I imploded and decided instead of settling down in a predominantly homophobic and backwater part of the country, try to re-acquaint myself with the man that I had loved and had lost because of my own insecurity.  Even though Will had wanted me to be his friend — I couldn’t and wouldn’t rest until such time as I saw him face to face, said what was on my mind and in my heart and put it all on the line to either try again, or let go and move on.  I remember coming back to Jeannie’s, checking my e-mail and freaking the hell out when I saw that I had received an e-mail from Will, basically telling me that he had come looking for me in Atlanta and wanted to make amends.  We had a brief discussion the next day and I had been convinced through wild impulse that I would head down there so that he could tell me whether it was friendship that he sought and not love — and even though he had said it was merely friendship — I simply wouldn’t back down. 
     A month later, my heart was mine again, and I was coming home to Rhode Island to face and deal with the family… 

     So here I am, a year later.  One attempt at a date with someone from the Walpole area by the name of Charlie, that while was earth-moving from a single kiss…  I pushed away because he simply was too flighty and too non-committal about even casual conversation.  And I’m no closer to sorting out the questions whether I’m ready to date, whether I’m willing to date, whether I want to date.  I’ll admit there have been more than a few moments in the last couple of months that I’ve had the want to try…  Matt…  Jer (although more on that one in a moment)…  Maybe one other if I can figure out what his game is. 
     On the one side, I’m seriously tired of my own company.  Sure, it’s pleasant, sure it’s uplifting at times, sure it’s the right kind of self-inspective and introspective…  But at the same time, I’m tired of being my own counsel.  I’m tired of hearing my own voice.  Sure — I’ve got my friends, Luke…  Joey…  Keegan (when he’s in the mood for a phone chat)…  Tracy…  The various acquaintances of Yahoo and MSN that like chatting with me and I them…  But when it’s all said and done — I would like to be able to chat about my heart, and be intimate with someone in a way that goes beyond simple friendship.  Distance is not one of those things that I’m worried about — as I’m always capable of transcending distance, or moving when the need comes into play. 
     I admit that I’m still dealing with the same old annoying damage and dysfunction with more people than I can shake a stick at.  And the amount of folk that I’ve come across on the Internet with some sort of organic of chemical mental problems, ranging from Manic-Depressive, through to Bi-Polar, to (Organic) Depression simply scare the daylights out of me.  This sort of exceeds my personal hesitations in dealing with the kind of dysfunction that simply reads as though the person is just too damaged beyond words, because the questions that come to mind usually revolve around, "what are they like when they’re off of their medications?" to the more important question, "What happens if they forget to take it?" 
     I remember all too vividly what it was like living there at Jeannie & Charlie’s what it was like when he didn’t take his medications, or whether he had forgotten to take them — and lord knows just how Jeannie could deal with that the last decade of their marriage.  As I was heading to get some water to drink — I had thought about this carefully and realize the only difference between the abuse that I had gone through at the hands Rick and a prospective boyfriend with an organic disorder/mental illness is that the latter wouldn’t know that they were doing it until a lucid moment…  Frankly — I’m just not sure I could handle it. 
     Which sort of comes back to Jer.  While it’s fun chatting with him, and there has sort of been a mutual attraction between him and I; I have been really, really hesitant about any sort of emotional entanglements with him.  It’s one thing to have ADD/ADHD — as I’m well aware of what causes it and the various noises that can set me off..  He’s got other issues that sort of scare me off…  Add to the PTSD that he’s admitted to having, the fact that his heart seems promised to a man that simply doesn’t reciprocate his needs for the long-term, the fact that he has been on a reckless course of a string of one-night stands…  And one vice that I simply cannot and will not abide in…  And well..  I ask myself…  Is it worth it to even try?
     And it’s not as though he’s the only one that I’ve come across in the years that I’ve been out…  God, I can’t believe that I’ve gotten this far in my lifetime with such a distaste to a disgust for recreational drugs…  Be it Marijuana and Mushrooms (as it’s been said, the "natural" mind altering chemicals) through to the heavier stuff that out there on the street — Crack, Methamphetamines, Crank, Ecstasy and so on.   While I admit that I had tried a prescription medication once or twice with Darin — I have never wanted to try again…  It’s simply not me.  Hell — even drinking isn’t something that I participate in all that often…  Looking at my calendar, I realize that the last time I had a drink was the holidays — and even then it was a glass of wine during the Holiday Meal.  
     I just don’t get the fascination of wanting to be high.  There are easier ways of getting high all within the human body — why does one need to introduce something into the body to get there?  Hell — the act of love and love-making is a drug in and of itself — involving various emotional and hormonal stimulants.  Why ask for something more?  *shrugging*  I just don’t get it and probably never will…  However, while I might not actually get it — I do know that I want nothing to do with it in my life or in my environment.  I have seen the effects of it from killing friends, to those that are homeless because their addiction had higher priorities in their life than family, housing, money, etc. — and I don’t want to deal with the risks of either.  There’re enough things to kill us off in the world…  Don’t need to introduce any more artificiality into it to accelerate the process. 

     In other news — I almost got sick yesterday…  Well I was sick from some sort of thermal shock which forced me to pass out rather early last night.  Yeah, I fell asleep at about 9:00 – 9:30.  I did get up once around 1 in the morning and was up for a couple of hours playing mind-numbing games, but then passed out again until about 8 this morning.  The reason why I had gone into thermal shock had to do with the fact that I had gone outside a second time to try to abate a little of the water that was accumulating around the end of the walkway because of the mixture of snow, ice and rain that we had gotten yesterday.  By the time I had gotten in from trying to make the most of moving the ice sludge and sleet, I was soaked from the knees down and from the shoulders up.  I tried my best not to fall into shock — but I didn’t succeed as my room was clearly the warmest room in the house, and I still found it to be cold.  Right now — I seem pretty normal — and I don’t find any part of the house cold…  *knocks on wood*
     Oh, and this week, I’ve been corresponding back and forth with Dan N. from High School.  I think I mentioned him back in November when I came across his e-mail to me there, and having responded to it in a totally flaked out sort of way because like it or not — we really didn’t have all that much in common other than walking to school and homeroom (again as I had mentioned back in November).  According to the news, he’s been married the last 12 years, and has two boys.  Hah…  Two boys, I thought to myself, if they grow up to be anything like him, he’s going to have his hands full.  I’ve got an e-mail in my box at the moment that I really don’t know how to respond to from him. 

    I kind of knew you were different but really didn’t care. In truth I wasn’t sure what different was in your case.
   
     This isn’t the first time that I’ve been struck tongue-tied by someone saying that they knew I was "special" in some way or another.  Sort of like the time that Jeannie had said to me that I was "…meant for greatness…"  After reading this several times in the e-mail, I sort of backed off from it, unsure whether I should respond to it or simply pull what I’m well known to do: ignore it entirely and move around from it hoping that it doesn’t go anywhere.  Still though…  I owe him an e-mail. 
   
     Finally…  I’ve been checking out Second-Life based on something that I had read either in BetaNews, or heard in one of the newscasts/podcasts.  Sort of reminds me of ActiveWorld back in the late 90’s with the graphics found in games like World of Warcraft.  Rather fun with the ohs and ahs when it comes to being able to walk or fly or teleport from section to section to section and seeing the various buildings, malls, nightclubs, etc.  While I’ve seen some folk chatting, a good majority of them seem to be wandering about admiring the world rather than chatting.  I came across a lesbian "playground" (for lack of a better world), which prompted me to do a search for "gay" and found three locations for it.  One of them is totally surreal and didn’t make much sense to me — the casual viewer…  I think I’ll try checking it out during night life time tomorrow night..  Just to see if it’s livelier than it’s been the three other times I’ve been there. 
     Oh, and I can see what they mean about getting wrapped up in it.  Not sure whether that will happen with me or not given my inherent cynicism to that level of graphics for chat.  I don’t need visuals to chat with people, and prefer to type more than anything else. 

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

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  1. Marc
    02/17/2007 at 4:17 pm

    AWWWW HOW SWEET LOVE YOUR GET THERE IN TIME JUST LET THE WUNDS HEAL LOVE TRUST ME BEEN THERE DONE IT YOU KNOW TOOK ME A LONG TIME TO GET CLOSE TO JOE BUT GOT THERE IN THE END

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