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</html>As promised, I'm going to start writing/blogging weekly. I know all the experts on writing say to write at a specific place and a specific time, but my schedule can't bend that way. Chances are anything I write, as usual, will be at night, outside, with ciggarettes and lighter handy (except for this night where its wine with a plate of cheese and apples).
I've also been making a point to get more cardio in during the week. Tonight instead of listening to my usual Metro Station Station I went for the genertic running station and this song came up. I can't get enough of it. Yes, it's country (ish) and for those who know me well enough know that I kinda despise most country of any variation. But this, this I'm completely digging. It's catchy and passion different. I suppose it makes me become nostalgia of passion driven songs from summers past. You know, the oh so cliche oh so called "summer of love". Long nights, long make outs, long drives...you get the idea. I could be a bit bitter on some level that those are gone, long gone. But at the same time it's just as well: I'm not that mostly naive kid who used to think that he almost had everything he ever wanted or needed in a man. I'm not going to get hung up on guys who are emotionally unavailable, or taken, or otherwise. Those guys are gone and what remains is one man who has finally discovered a part of himself and deems that part so special, so precious, that it is worth being selfish over for the time being. Let me explain.
I've been on a travel kick. It's started slowly a few years ago and has gained momentum this year. The climax was when I was in San Francisco last January. In some ways my get-a-ways to the Bay Area have been the healings I needed. A few years back I had a powerful confession experience at Grace Cathedral, I may talk about that later, but the setting of scene returns to the Cathedral. It was Friday, and I had just finished a walking tour of China Town. I had been to the Cathedral the past two days and didn't want to wear it out, but it was on my way back to the Hostel so I stopped in for Evening Prayer. There I ran into a friend whom I had met the day prior, he asked me if I had planned to stay for the Candle Light Labrynth walk. Being a guy who can't say no, I said sure. Of course, I've walked labrynths before, but never in a group. There were about 200 people gathered in a darkened cathedral whose light was only emitted from candles on the floor and on the wall, listening to a soprano singing chants similar to Hildegard Von Bingen with the piano. I walked. I wasn't sure what I was asking God for. I was in a bit of a rut; school was starting in just a few weeks and I had no idea what I was going to do. I couldn't return full time, but not returning at all such seemed an option which would be that of a failure. I walked.I started to feel something in me which I would later realize to be stagnantcy of my life. I walked. I grew frustrated and started to give God a piece of my mind like it was Fiddler on the Roof. I finished the walk, and withdrew to the side of the nave, grabbing a kneeling cushion to sit on. I took out my rosary, and began to pray the Jesus Prayer. I let the words drift in and out of my consciousness for about 20 minutes when I started to cry. And I mean cry. I hadn't cried like that in years, and I did so for about 20 more minutes. I didn't pray with words, and words didn't come into my head, though I was hoping maybe God would prompt some priest to come to my aid and sort all this out, this was a special moment. This was mine. I knew I was being healed of something I had let plague me for so, so long. Of what I had no clue. After, I helped Brian clean up and he and I went out for a beer. I ended up going back to the hostel and had intentions of going to bed. But instead ended up going drinking with this pretty hot German guy and a guy from Hong Kong and got pretty drunk. Anyway. I left that Cathedral a different man.
I haven't realized what happened in San Francisco until recently. When I look at the months that followed I noticed that I have been more okay and accepting of myself that I ever have been. The nights falling asleep wondering where he is or what his day was like, or feeling lonely and left out at the sight of a very happy and very hot gay couple have been so minimal. And it wasn't until after my last Spiritual Direction session that I realized that I God has been on my side this whole time and that I am worth more than what I can imagine.
I met this guy Matt last spring. He's from LA, and he came up and stayed for a few days. He's a great catch. Super handsome, funny, goals, good kisser and otherwise. I noticed though in the weeks to come after we met that I wasn't obsessing over him like I normally would for great guys. For one, I have to admit that this spring was the busiest I've ever had on record. Gigs and rehearsals. Including my normal work hours I was putting in 50+ hour weeks. Granted, it paid for my plane tickets to Europe. Who knows, maybe I'll be able to make it down and catch Disney if I can swing it. I haven't been out of town since I went to Cambria in March and I feel my soul starting to implode a bit from it. Who knows, maybe that cliche summer of love is still on the horizon. I've been laying pretty low the past few weeks since summer has started. Mainly just trying to take care of my pysche and give myself the extra help that I'll need to avoid summer insomnia/depression. So yeah, I've been exercising and writing and reading, doing all the things my introverted self needs to do. I know, I'll boost my social and extroverted self soon enough before my feelers start to get weak from lack of conversation.
What it comes down to is this: I find myself when I travel. This has always been the case though I'm just now realizing it. I have the opportunity to be myself fully. Not that I wear a mask often, I'm pretty transparent in that regard (at least I like to think that I am). And now that I'm grown up enough to see the world on my own I've got to do it. If I can spend a month in Europe and come out ruined, scathed, excited to do it again, then I can definitley muster up the courage to leave Bakersfield. I've got something special going on here and deep down I know this work isn't done.
I know deep down that the next one is the one. He will give himself to me in ways that I can't fathom. We will fight over my inability to sensitive to what his needs may be or his inability to slow the fuck down and think. But we'll make it work, and be happy. But right now, I'm not ready to give my self up like that, or even head down that road. For once, for once in my fucking life its not about me being okay with being single; its about me being okay with me and finally running with it.
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