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Archive for April, 2009

Partnership

I want a partner.  I think this has been the result of much of my recent thought.  It’s why I tell The King and My Friend on the Facebook.  Not the only reasons — the ones I have before are still the primary reasons — but part of it is seeking a partner.  Maybe the reason CAPrime doesn’t understand my drive to tell others is because he has a partner in CASecond.  Someone like him with whom he can share everything.

I spoke for a while to The King today, trying to fight the tendency I talked about last entry.  We talked for a bit about “costumes,” and how hard it is to wear them.  I said I didn’t want to live my while life distracting myself from the fact that so much of my life is misdirection.  Having a partner would help.  Having another boylover who can share my musical interests: that would be ideal.  But just being a boylover would be OK.  I’m not sure I could be with him sexually…

Anyway, I have some thoughts forming in my head, but I don’t think they’re ready for paper.  I do know this.  I need to improve my fincancial situation.

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Sometimes I find myself daydreaming that I can talk to someone.  I can be quite articulate and eloquent in my head.  But I’m not often that way face to face.

I’m feeling depressed today.  Last night I saw and English men and boys’ choir perform at a local church.  They were pretty good.  I had some criticisms, but the lasting impression was a good one.  So I spent two hours watching and listening to a large group of cute boys with lovely voices.  One soloist in particular.  He sang the greater solo in “I waited for the Lord” by Mendelssohn, and the last verse in their encore, “Drop, drop slow tears” by Gibbons.  He had a beautiful, even, polished sound, and he was beautiful himself.  Some of the boys were probably nearly six feet tall, but I’d guess this soloist to have been no taller than 5′ if that.  (Not that height is the primary factor is beauty.)  Yet one could see he was no younger than 11.  Probably 12.

I wanted to speak to him after, but there didn’t seem to be a reception of any kind.  So I don’t even know his name.

After the concert I drove up to The King’s house to spend time with him and My Friend on the Facebook.  I wanted to talk about the concert, to talk about this boy, but when I got there I couldn’t say anything.  Even when MFotF asked, “How was the concert?” all I could say was, “good.”

Often after concerts of this sort, that is to say concerts with prominant boy performers, I crash emotionally — sometimes as soon as I walk out of the venue — and fall into this depression.  And I wonder why.  It’s the Unknowable Longing rearing its head yet again.  It’s been a while.  These concerts, and similar situations, remind me of something.  Something I want but can’t have.  Hard to have it when you can’t name it.

Sometimes this feeling is bittersweet.  I sort of savor it; the closeness to the idea behind the Unknowable Longing.  But not today.  Today it just sucks.  Hurts.  Days like today I wonder if it is worth torturing myself like this.  Maybe…  Something about the boychoir, the combination of boys and music, calls to me.  Entices me.  But I’m no closer to figuring out what that is today than when I first felt it.  So I could keep persuing it, or I could walk away and save myself the anguish.

When I put it down on paper like that the answer jumps out at me.  My idealist heart sees the choice between hard or easy and immediately chooses hard.  CAPrime would disagree, I’m sure.  Now if only I could get my Idealist Heart to do the dishes…

To change the topic, last week I was a little hot headded and over dramatic.  CAPrime and I are still speaking.  Our friendship will never be what it was at its peak, but it doesn’t need to end.  He just wanted assurances.  I thought I had given them to him, but it seems he needed more.  But he and I disagree on too many things, and CASecund believes whatever CAPrime tells him to believe.

Writing this down really does help, for some reason.  I don’t know why.

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That was a little unexpected.  I really should have seen this possibility, but quite frankly I was thinking of other things.

I guess I am no longer friends with the two boylovers I know out in CA.  It’s a little sad.  Right after MFotF left last Monday after I came out, I sent messages off to my friends in the online community, telling them about it.  One responded a few days later congratulating me.  But today I talked to CAPrime online and he told me he was disturbed by my message.  Long story short, he was worried that my coming out to my closest friends was putting him at risk.  I assured him that I don’t talk about him to the (now) two friends who know the truth about me, but he was concerned that there was evidence of our correspondence on my computers, and that that information is now vulnerable.

I told him, the people I told had already figured it out for themselves.  They were more likely to pry (though they never did, I’m sure) when they had suspicions than they are now that they know.  CAPrime was not convinced.

He asked me how I knew they would stand by me when I started working with children, or if I ever adopted.  I told him how the King referred me to the mentoring agency.  He reminded me that I was rejected by them.

Now, it’s not as if that never occurred to me.  Of course that thought went through my mind.  Maybe The King in fact told them not to take me.  It is possible, but I don’t believe he did.  I trust him not to lie to me about that.  That’s what friendship is.  Trust.  It’s why I told them in the first place.  To grow our friendship stronger, I had to trust them more, and so far I have no evidence to suggest that they betrayed me.

At this point in our conversation I was pretty angry, so I didn’t get to make all the points i could have, but I doubt they’d have convinced him.  I think now that suspicion is dispelled, that I have shown my friends trust, they are more able to trust me with kids, not less.  This may seem contradictory at first, but consider:

I apply to the mentoring agency to become a mentor and list MFotF as a reference.  She has some thoughts that I may be a pedophile.  That scares her a little, especially when I tell her that I am volunteering to spend time alone with a boy.  Something not commonly done by men my age.  It adds to her fear and suspicion.

When she’s called and asked in confidence if she would recommend me, she could say “no” without fear of offending me if she’s wrong.

On the other hand, The King, who knows, is free to say up front that he is reluctant to recommend me.  He is the sort of person who wouldn’t be afraid to do just that.  But no matter the type of person he is, the option is there, statistically increasing the chance that he’ll be a good reference if he agrees.

He can also ask me why I want to do this volunteering (which he did) and I can answer honestly (which I did).  It cuts out all the cloak and dagger.  Obviously, he can still say “yes” to me and “no” to them, but I think he has fewer reasons to do so.  I choose to trust him.  And I choose to trust her.

CAPrime has chosen not to trust me to protect him.  I can understand his fear, certainly, but – MFotF just sent me a text.  “So I’m at a coffee shop in the city and there is a guy here talking to his beanie baby in french and serving it some of his coffee.”  lol – And now my neighbor’s boyfriend is pounding on her door yelling at her to let him in.  From the sound of it, he’s dragging around a 2×4 – it’s not like I don’t have experience not talking about stuff.  I’m a novice at telling.  It’s hard work.  Much easier to keep the secret.  But the reward is greater when you trust.

So there was one more choice to be made. He needed me to choose between him or The King and MFotF, or at least what they represent since such things cannot be untold.  (Some try, though.)   I didn’t choose him.

MFotF and The King – MFotF especially – were willing to reevaluate a belief they’ve been taught all their lives to keep my friendship.  CAPrime is not even willing to consider that such a thing is possible, let alone that I could identify them.

I was angry, but I got to vent to The King.  (I never used CAPrime’s name.)  Now I’m just disappointed, and a little sad.

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Yesterday was my birthday.  25.  Quarter century.  It has been a less than ideal year, and an interesting final week.

So, 24 started out alright.  I had a successful recital, graduated with my master’s degree, went to a summer music festival where I renewed my friendship with Jess and learned a little about my isolationist tendencies and how to fight them.

Then, however, I spent the rest of the summer unemployed, racking up debt, got sick while uninsured resulting in completely losing my voice, got a crappy job as a waiter, quit that job, and generally was a lazy slob.  Oh, and I was rejected from the mentoring agency.

I’m now pulling out of that.  I’m feeling a renewed interest in my music career.  I’ve been avoiding all the illnesses that are floating around (though I did go to the hospital with an anxiety attack).  I’m finally turning my house back around – albeit slowly – and making it a pleasant place to live.  I quit the old job and got a new, better one.

And then last week I came out to My Friend on the Facebook.  That last one is the real reason I’m writing today.  I told MFotF and the King that even though they assure me that all is well, I would still worry.  And I did.  Do.  I took the King’s advice and kept my distance for most of the week.  It occurred to me that that may actually have not been the wisest course of action.  While it gives MFotF the chance to digest what I told her, let it sink in, it also gives her doubts a chance to grow.  I’m not present, reminding her of my humanity and our friendship, so the parts of her mind that tell her that people like me are monstrous can speak to her unchallenged.

On the other hand, most of that battle has already been fought since this is an idea that has been present for a while.  I’m starting to think the advice I’d gotten from that website years ago was 100% wrong.  It said to never let those you love find out for themselves that you’re gay, but tell them yourself first.  twice now, the opposite has proven to be quite smooth.  It’s slower, more gradual.  The other person can work out the fact that you’re still a human being, still the same person as before, without having to actually confront the truth.  When people see things coming they tend to be better prepared when they arrive.

Anyway, I left her alone.  She texted me that night, left me a voice mail the next and that was it for a few days.  At first I was patient, but on Tuesday I was getting anxious.  I held off calling until Thursday.

When I did call, under the pretense of checking what the plans were for today (Saturday), she was normal enough but didn’t seem interested in talking long.  But she was talking ot me, and that was good.  She called the next day to wish me Happy Birthday and was much more friendly, explaining that she was a little short with me the day before because I called during one of her favorite shows.  I understand that feeling.  I said as much too, saying I should really not answer the phone when I’m in that situation, since it’s not pleasant for anyone involved.

“I considered it, but I figured what you were calling about and was going to call you at some point anyway.”

I can see that being true.  I can also see her answering because she didn’t want me thinking she was avoiding my calls.  Either way, I was mollified.

We’ve spoken a few more times.  I’ve come to the following conclusions:

  • Any awkwardness I perceive may or may not exist.  Either way, it will pass.  It is not a sign of anything bad.
  • Even if she’s less comfortable than she claims, the only thing I can do to help is be around her and be myself.
  • Most of it is in my head.

She’s coming down today to help celebrate my birthday with The King and BBM.

 


Well, it was fun.  Not the most fun I’ve ever had with MFotF and The King, but fun none the less.  Here’s the thing though.  Now that I’ve told her, I want to talk about it with her.  But…  I can’t be the one to bring it up, can I?  Surely she is curious.  The King was, in any case.

I suppose I’m just waiting for the transformation.  Really, there shouldn’t be one.  That’s kind of the point of  a smooth coming out.  Nothing really changes.  It’s just a bit anti-climactic.  I spend all that energy worrying and building up courage to tell someone I’m a boylover and then after it’s over, it’s like it never happened.  I guess I’m just not sure what I feel about it.  That’s not completely true.  I’m glad I told her.  Tonight was a good indication that we can still be perfectly normal.  I just…want more.

GAH!  Shut up, Louie!

But just one more thing.  I’s possible that she is curious but doesn’t want to bring it up herself.

OK, two more things.  I still kinda feel like I’m walking on glass around her.  Not for the same reasons, obviously, but for instance, tonight I played a clip of the B minor Mass with boys singing the soprano and alto parts.  I felt embarrassed.  Duh!  I’m a boylover.  She already knows I like boy sopranos a little more than is normal, but for some reason I was still reluctant to play the song in front of her.  Maybe it’s just an old habit.

I should probably talk to The King.  Get his opinion.

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Quite a bit has happened.  Let’s start with the mundane and move to the more interesting.

A short time ago, my parents came to the city to attend an exhibition.  They enjoyed it.  After that they went to see Sissy’s new apartment.  She lives near by now, in the next state over.  On Saturday we all went to see my 2nd cousin perform his senior recital.  It was alright.  I supposed he’s a good enough musician, but he’s not ready for a career right now.  Neither was I at that age.  Not sure I am now, either.

This weekend my parents came back again.  They came to hear a special performance at my church.  It was a mostly pro choir (staff plus ringers) plus a few teen girls and one choirboy (11yo).  The performance was pretty good.

After the evensong, my family (Sissy included) and My Friend on the Facebook (who was one of the ringers) went back to my house to hang out.  Noting particularly interesting happened, but it was fun.  Why am I even writing this down…

The next day my parents took me to get my birthday/belated graduation present.  A digital piano.  We ended up selecting the Yamaha Clavinova CLP 330.  It won’t arrive for another week or two.  Then we went to Sissy’s had cheesecake (my birthday cake this year) and watched Dan in Real Life.  The movie was so-so.  It had some great moments, but it didn’t quite finish well.  It either needed to do a better job of making everything come together perfectly, or it needed to end more messily.  Like…oh I don’t know.  I didn’t like it enough to try and fix it.

Now the more serious stuff.  One week ago today, I was doing my taxes.  About 12:15 I went to bed.  My heart felt like it was pounding, but I was very tired.  I tried to fall asleep, but when ever I got close, I would jerk awake again gasping for air.  It felt like a heart attack.

I considered calling lots of people, but was too embarrassed.  I finally called the doctor’s office near my house and got to speak to the Dr. on call.  I told him my symptoms, and he told me I should go to the hospital.  I didn’t want to so I scheduled an appointment in the morning.

But I couldn’t sleep.  I tried to stay up the rest of the night, but it kept getting worse.  At 3:30 I gave up and called 911.

Hospital visits aren’t that interesting.  I told them all my suspicions and answered their questions over and over (“No, I have not been taking any illegal drugs.”), got an EKG, and finally was told “Anxiety Attack.”  Got some drugs, walked home.  When I went in, my BP was high and pulse was 140 bpm.  When I left it was normal and 90.

Went to the Dr. a few more times and got an ECHO done, but all signs point to anxiety.  I think the diagnosis is the cure.  If I don’t have heart problems, then I have a lot less to be anxious about.  Except…

Last night I told My Friend on the Facebook.  Spend the afternoon and evening with her, and had been thinking about it the second half of the whole time.  Actually, I’d been thinking about it for weeks, and less seriously for well over a year.  She could tell yesterday that I had something on my mind and asked me a few times what was up, but I kept saying “nothing.”

My Friend on the Facebook has a friend who was obviously gay, but he wouldn’t admit it for the longest time.  Finally he did sometime in our junior or senior year.  He went to her apartment, turned off the lights to make himself more comfortable, and spent the next three hours stringing together the words to form the single sentence, “I’m gay.”  That’s more than one hour per word.

The past few times she and I had gotten together, that situation was recalled, followed by a comment by her along the lines of “if you ever sit me down and turn the lights off I’ll know to worry,” or, “please, if you ever tell me you’re gay, just come right out and say it.”  They were jokes.  That’s just her.  But there was some truth to it.  She truly would rather have it all out at once.

When I came out to The King…two and a half years ago, I pulled something similar myself.  We had just started a movie (The Maltese Falcon) so the lights were off, and it did take me a painfully long time to get from “I’m not attracted to women” to “I’m a boylover.”  We didn’t get to bed until around 2 am.  Half the time was him asking questions after the fact, but it was still a long time.

I took all of My Friend on the Facebook’s little comments as a suggestion that she was waiting for me to tell her.  So finally, as she was getting ready to leave, she asked one more time if I had something on my mind.

“I do,” I said.

“Do you want to tell me?”

I thought for a second.  I could see that this was it.  The last chance.  Speak now or for ever…  Not that there would never be another chance, but it was certainly the last chance of the night.  And who knows.  Maybe it was the last chance ever.

“I’m thinking about it.”  I continued to look at the floor, trying to gather courage, to buy time, to not set off another anxiety attack.

“I think you should tell me,” My Friend on the Facebook said after a few more seconds.  I nodded.

“Would it help to turn off the light?” she asked with a grin.

I smirked back at that.  “No, but you’re remarkably on target.”

She looked puzzled by that.  “What do you mean?”

Now I was confused.  She made the friggin’ reference.  How could she not understand what I meant?  “You know, with your…  You’re…  Never mind, that’s not important.”

I took a deep breath and said words that were easier than what I wanted to say, but committed me to saying it.

“I’m not straight, but you probably already knew that.”

She had a knowing smile on her face and nodded.

“But I’m not gay either.”

Now she looked confused.  She might have said something here, but I can’t remember it.

“I’m a boylover, which is sort of a nice way of saying pedophile.”

She now had a serious look on her face.  “How long have you known?”

“Since I was 13 or 15.”

“Have you talked to anyone about this?”

At that comment I got a little angry.  What does that mean?  Do you mean, ‘am I getting professional help?’  But I calmed down quickly.  She is going to see things differently than I do.  She is going to have feelings more in line with society’s than with my community.  So I tried to answer several questions that she might have asked at once.

“I’ve told The King, so I’ve talked about it with him, and now with you, but I don’t believe there is anything wrong with me.  I believe this is a sexuality that can’t be changed, just like being gay or straight, so no, I’ve never talked to a psychiatrist.”

Then she laughed.  Hard.  “Now I understand what you meant by my being right about the lights.”

That laugh told me a lot.  She was alright.  We were alright.  The tension, the fear was all gone.  Maybe we wouldn’t agree on everything, but our friendship wasn’t about to end.

We talked for another hour about how The King had told me of her suspicions a while ago, about all the signs from here I had been reading, signs she actually hadn’t been purposefully sending.  We talked about why I waited to tell her, why that was good.  We asked each other questions and I opened up to her in the truest way she’s ever seen from me.  Yesterday she was fine with it.  Today she’s still fine with it.  She said it doesn’t change anything for her.  I’m still the same person she’s known for years.

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I finished The Hobbit last night.  I enjoyed it.  I didn’t love it, though.  Again, I’m expecting LotR to interest me more, since it is a more complicated story with darker themes.  I like dark stories.

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I got The Hobbit on audio from the library. I’m listening to it as I clean. It’s mildly amusing but hardly holds me spellbound. I think LotR will be better.

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