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Archive for the ‘What’s Going On’ Category

Being known

I work in the Citadel’s office as well as singing it their choir. The Collective lives around the corner from the Citadel. Very convenient. I have at times stayed with the Collective during snow storms, etc, so I could get to work more easily.

Now, I am giving voice lessons to 2of2. Today is our usual day. He gets out of school 45 min early and we meet at his house. Today, because of various circumstances, our lesson needed to be delayed. But a few minutes ago, 2of2 buzzed the intercom here at work

It feels GOOD for people to know about my relationship to these boys. While I understand the danger, and worry a LITTLE about that, the prevailing feeling when I notice people associating me with the Collective (“Hey Louie! Does 1of2 like…?” “Do you know if the Tertiary Adjunct is going to be such-and-such a place?” “Could you give this to the Queen the next time you see her?”) is one of pride. Yes! I am their friend! I love them, they love me, and EVERYBODY knows it! So HA!

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Sentimental

I have been sick. Coughing so much that I’ve lost my voice. Yesterday (Sunday) morning was particularly bad. I could barely get out of bed. I obviously wasn’t going to be much use to the Citadel’s choir that morning, so I called in sick to get a few extra hours of sleep.

That afternoon, 1of2 sent me a text message. “Are you dead dude? I miss you” I was so touched! And, of course, I missed him too. But did I say that? No, of course not.

The last time I ate dinner at their house, as I was headed out the door 1of2 called out to me, “Bye Louie! I love you!” Once again, I definitely love him too. But still I didn’t say so to him.

This bothers me. First, I want to set an example for him that it is OK and good to express his feelings, although he clearly doesn’t need that. Still, I don’t want to set the opposite example and influence him to stop.

But secondly, and more importantly, I want him to know that I do love him and that I do miss him. But I just can’t make myself say it. Fortunately, I’ve gotten over my inability to hug him! So at least he (and the rest of the family) are no longer under the impression that I merely tolerate the boys. They know that I genuinely enjoy my time with them.

Now I am trying to buy them a Christmas present. For their birthdays I got each boy his own personal gift, but I don’t have the money to do that again, so I am trying to come up with a gift for the family as a whole. I would like that gift to in some way represent how much our friendship has grown, to express my love for the boys and my gratitude to the parents, but obviously I have an aversion to overtly putting my emotions on display. This is a long standing problem and I have been working on it for years, but I have never been so bothered by it as I am now.

I have one idea. And I can’t use it. On my Wilfred Owen page there is a poem: Impromptu. The second section is the perfect sentiment I wish to express, but I don’t know that I’d have the courage to use it, strong as it is.

Child, let me fully see and know thy eyes!
Their fire is like the wrath of shaken rubies;
Their shade is like the peaceful forest-heart.
They hold me as the great star holds the less.
I see them as the lights beyond this life.
They reach me by a sense not found in man,
And bless me with a bliss unguessed of God.

It perfectly describes my love for them (part of it, anyway) in a way that I think The Queen would interpret in a very positive way. I truly believe that she would read that “Platonically.”

But that isn’t the whole poem. So when asked where it came from: “Oh, it’s part of a Wilfred Owen poem.” Which leads to: “What’s the rest of it say?”

Yield me thy hand a little while, fair love;
That I may feel it; and so feel thy life,
And kiss across it, as the sea the sand,
And love it, with the love of Sun for Earth.

Yeah, that’s a bit harder to swallow as representing a mentor-protégé relationship.

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I wrote this almost a year ago now. It’s still valid.

Nothing new to say.
I’ve said it all before. And all I’ve said before has been said before that, by more eloquent men than myself. I have no novel words to tell that sound stronger or more true than I can find in my books, my songs.
But I need to keep saying it. Reading what I’ve already written does not satisfy my need. Reading the words of bards long departed merely feed my fire. Love.
Love. It grows every day. Each new pang caries with it a need, a hunger for contact, for vision. For love returned. Each new contact sates that hunger, but feeds the love. And being fed, it grows. And growing, it pangs and hungers all the more.
Nothing new to say.
I love these boys. I need their love. I want their friendship. I desire their company. Every day is spent pondering how to see them again. Every second in their company is spent in thoughtless rapture. Every moment away is consumed by equal parts fear and hope. Trepidation over the next step to take. Fear that the last step was too bold. Or too timid. Dread that time is wasting. Hope that all will come together.
Nothing new to say. But I need to keep saying it. Over and over for as long as it is true.
I love them.

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Oops. I just suck at consistency. It has been a problem in everything I do, I guess. Singing, practicing, work, blogging, writing. Definitely something I need to conquer. But this blog is not the place to do it. So again, I apologize. Don’t expect much from me. Maybe one day…

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I’ve been putting this off, but it needs to be done. So much of what I think and feel these days is related to what’s going on in my life. And what’s going on in my life is most certainly a culmination of the events of this past year, during my silence.

Let me start by giving you a hint of where I am right now.  Do you remember 1of2, 2of2 and Tertiary Adjunct?  Whom I referred to collectively as…the Borg Collective? Well, in rereading the posts that I tagged them in, I see that I have not done justice to my connection to them. Before, I had quite a crush on 1of2 and a mild crush on 2of2. Tertiary was cute.

Well, now I can say without hesitation that all three beautiful, magnificent, wonderful children are my YFs!! First true YFs I’ve had since The Beloved, back when I was 17!

On Good Friday, 2009, I sang a church service at a different church than The Citadel. The Citadel wasn’t having music (budget reasons) so I had gone elsewhere to get some extra money. I got a lot more than that! I got a free trip to ENGLAND!!

The church I picked, I picked for much the same reason as when I first started at The Citadel. The church had a boy choir. So for three weeks I toured various cathedrals and churches all over England (and Wales) singing and living with a large group of children, including many boys age 10-14 (and older). Four in particular really worked their way into my heart.

Ruins near Canterbury Cathedral

I would love to show pictures of the kids, but for obvious reasons, I must abstain. This was taken right next to the cathedral. I never did figure out what it was originally...

A boy (who looked rather like The Beloved) of 10 who was often homesick and needing a lot of attention. He eventually started physically fighting with the other 10-year-olds. Early on, I adopted him as my sort of protégé. I helped him through losing one of his last baby teeth while on the trip. :)

A boy just shy of 13 with an amazing voice! (Shepherd) He also loved to play Frisbee and cards. I eventually learned that he once sang at The Citadel, shortly after I joined, but switched to sing closer to home.

An 11-year-old Belgian boy (Catboy) who was beautiful!! Stunning. He joined us half way through the tour. His English was not at all bad, but he didn’t have a lot of confidence with it. For his first few days, he would barely speak, but made animal sounds at people instead. (Usually, he would hiss like a cat.) At the very end, I had started to break through his shell and he would talk to me with his adorable French accent. I initially started to get his attention when I shocked him with the quality of my duck impression. ;) He was a fiend at Frisbee.

And lastly… CJ. It is hard to think about him. By the end of the trip I had really fallen in love with this boy. “Painful” does not begin to describe how I felt when the trip ended at the thought of never seeing him again… He’s really the subject of another post though, I suppose.

Well, the trip did end. And while I was depressed for a little while after, it wasn’t too long until this Intermezzo of my life ended, and the next Act began!

(I intended this to be all one big post, but it kinda feels to me like it should be two.  So, expect Part, the Second some time in the near future!)

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