A long time with no update, this I know, but fun times, and interesting situations have arisen, leaving me somewhat speechless (can you imagine?), left me rethinking things with new eyes, and an open heart. I’ve had a few serious blasts from my past, and a feeling regarding a current situation has managed to finally bubble to the top of my proverbial emotional pond, my waters somewhat placid and generally undisturbed. These are things worth exploring, either to cast aside any shadow of a doubt, or cause further discussion and inspection.
It started when my boy T came into town on Thursday. I’ve known T since high school, he’s a few years older than me, but we used to kick it up in the Oakland hills, and in the woods, a small town named Canyon where we were free to run around as fucked up as we could get, barefoot and unafraid of shadows cast by giant redwoods. We drank together, smoked together, spent summers looking at stars. There was never any romantic connection, but that was because I dated one of his good friends, and a connection wasn’t possible. T is a medic now, for the US Army, and was doing a little vacationing before he takes off to an unknown destination. A few days were dedicated to his friends in the greater Los Angeles area, and one of those friends was me. I picked him up at the airport, we went to dinner, and I offered him a place to stay for the night.
Now, in my typical fashion, I worked myself up over nothing. I worried that he would stay longer than that one night, and this would be a problem because I had two girlfriends from high school coming in Friday (I know, old school weekend). I had convinced myself that because he bought me a wonderful dinner, I owed it to him to allow him to stay as long as he wished. I talked it over with Deezy, who very gently pointed out the insanity of my thinking, which I kind of already saw, but could see much better with his help. In the morning, I told T that I have two girlfriends coming into town, and asked if he wanted me to help him find a hotel or give him a ride to another friends house. Now here is the zinger..
T didn’t expect anything of me at any point. He even said that.
In the middle of the night, kitty took a dump and the living room, (where kitty litter happens to live) became very smelly. He awoke, and then knocked very gently on my door, and in my sleepy confused state, I shot him a look of death. I had no idea who I’d let stay at my house, and as he was covered in a big sleeping bag, thought perhaps a giant sleeping bag monster had come to ransack my house, and possibly rape and pillage my body. He spoke very gently: “Kitty took a massive dump and it smells terrible. I promise to behave, and stay in my sleeping bag and I won’t do anything bad, can I sleep in your room where it doesn’t smell terrible?”
Of course I said yes.
In the morning, I woke up, and he had already walked Saucy, got breakfast and coffee, croissant sandwiches, apples, and oranges and mochas, and started looking into fun things for us to do with the day. When I told him about my girlfriends, he said no problem and arranged to hang out in San Diego for the night. We went on a hike, he took me on a Harley (first time on the back of a bike, and now I want to join a motorcycle gang…) and then to another lovely dinner. When I dropped him off at the train station, he kissed me goodbye and asked that we be pen-pals while he’s away, which is more than a pleasurable thing for me to agree to. All he wanted was a friend. And I am more than happy to be that.
When I picked up my girls, another interesting thing happened. We picked up right where we left off years ago. Talking about periods and farts and all the things that chicks don’t talk to guys about, most don’t even talk to other chicks about, and it was like nothing had changed, except maybe my hair and substance abuse, or the fact that one of them is now married. We hit disneyland and acted like kids, ate caramel apples and rode Indiana Jones and Space Mountain, running from ride to ride, loving Splash Mountain just as I did the first time. At one point, one of my girls, Stephie, was dealing with some drama llama, and there is nothing like the feeling of having your two best girls there to support you. Even being one of the supporters, it warmed my heart to participate in our friendship, to offer words of advice, or say it’s okay to cry. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a trio. Normally it’s just me and Angel Pie, which I love, but these girls have been with me since the beginning, and it’s nice to know they will be there till the end. Angel will love K, they are both so forward and to the point, and I can’t wait for the reunion so we may play in an amazing quartet. I don’t have many females in my life, but the ones that are present are solid. It means a lot.
Last, the realization I had today, and perhaps I shouldn’t be discussing it here, but I’m going to anyway in a very cryptic manner, is that in one relationship in my life, with a certain B, I am merely one of 6 possible others. Now, I don’t want a relationship anything further or more intimate that than friendship, but for some reason, today I realized I am simply a companion to this man, someone to go to a movie when it fits his schedule, or bring him yogurt if he asks very sweetly. I never cared before because I was perfectly happy just taking my Sunday slot, and coming and going as I please. And my intentions aren’t to run away, or to quit being friends with him. But I think it is a good idea if I quit sleeping over. Because we sleep in the same bed, we don’t fool around, don’t even really snuggle, and upon further inspection, realize that when I do start sleeping in a mans bed, not only do I want it to really mean something, but I don’t want to wonder which day of the week slept in my space the night before. I’ll still watch the dogs there when he’s out of town, still love him dearly, but I don’t know if it’s healthy to rest my head next to a man I’m not romantically involved with, especially one that I can never be. It was fine when I had 6 others… but now, the only things in my bed have stinky dog and cat breath.
I had hoped, as my time in sobriety progressed, that just because he and I led very different lives, and travelled very different paths, it wouldn’t mean we couldn’t take a side street, and meet under random street lamps. And we can meet and hang…I just don’t think we can hang in a bed without it starting to effect my heart. And I’m just not ready for that.
Ain’t self awareness a bitch?
Overall it was a great weekend, and through all the ups and downs, lefts and rights, I find myself living in such a state of gratitude, that even though a few pebbles have been cast in my pond – by my own hand – I know the ripples will fade out to the banks, and calm water will return.