“Writing is a process of turning myself inside out: a regurgitation. I extrude my vulnerable inner lining. I purge. And then I examine the contents - my expulsed interior - and begin the bloody interrogation. I ask whether it is filthy or clean, valuable or deplorable”—Wayne Koestenbaum, Humiliation
My past relationships have all be based upon domination. I have sought out and found men who are powerful, who set the standards I have to live up to, and who I’ve allowed to possess me. Oddly, I was the ‘top’ in these relationships, but knew that it wasn’t me who held the leash. It was them. And it’s why I loved them.
I’m a flighty, airy, compulsive person who is capable of disregarding consequences if it means a moment of bliss. I am the oldest sibling and cousin. I have had this weird “first-born” pressure upon me for most of my life. I have always felt responsible for setting the bar, and keeping up the standards I thought would make my family proud. I have always needed/craved/desired someone who is the opposite of this. Grounded, strong, willful, solid. Someone to take these pressures and burdens off of me at times.
Even though I’m writing about my past, I’m seeing a LOT of connection to my present life here. I’m identifying current patterns of behavior that have lingered for all of my gay adult male life, if not my entire life.
Thing is, I don’t know if I want to break out of these patterns. I still want a dominant, powerful force in my life to call me on my shit, hold me accountable, and show me a better way to live than I currently do. I want a rock that I can cling to when I’ve lost my mind in some dark thought space, or wake up terrified that I’m alone and lost.
There are a lot of negatives that surround being owned/possessed/claimed by another person. Codependency rises from this. I know this. Still, there has to be a way to have a healthy, earnest, honest relationship with a dominant man who will still grant me the space and time I need to be who I am without exerting too much control over me.
I’m okay with admitting all of this, though this kind of revelation is scaring the shit out of me.
I really am okay though. I feel like I know myself better.
“Widespread ignorance bordering on idiocy is our new national goal. It’s no use pretending otherwise and telling us, as Thomas Friedman did in the Times a few days ago, that educated people are the nation’s most valuable resources. Sure, they are, but do we still want them? It doesn’t look to me as if we do. The ideal citizen of a politically corrupt state, such as the one we now have, is a gullible dolt unable to tell truth from bullshit. An educated, well-informed population, the kind that a functioning democracy requires, would be difficult to lie to, and could not be led by the nose by the various vested interests running amok in this country. Most of our politicians and their political advisers and lobbyists would find themselves unemployed, and so would the gasbags who pass themselves off as our opinion makers. Luckily for them, nothing so catastrophic, even though perfectly well-deserved and widely-welcome, has a remote chance of occurring any time soon. For starters, there’s more money to be made from the ignorant than the enlightened, and deceiving Americans is one of the few growing home industries we still have in this country. A truly educated populace would be bad, both for politicians and for business.”—
I need a few weeks of calm and regularity - the rest of March and into April would be good. I’m not quite sure why, but my adventuresome side has really taken a toll on me, and I feel like I need to just stop and take a long breath.
I’ve said it before: I spend too much time worrying about my next immediate steps, and watch where my feet are placed too intensely. I need to lift up my head and look at the direction I’m going, and take into consideration the larger goals. It’s when I do that, and take stock in where I am and where I want to be in the next month/six months/year, that I can reset myself.
He came out of nowhere. I was being stood up on a breakfast date, and sullen me turned on Scruff to see who was on. He and I had been messaging a little, but just light flirting. I was drawn to his beard. Red and fuzzy. And his warm eyes. That morning, he made me feel better with his words.
Then, we met up at an event at the Eagle here. I was scared and nervous. He was charming and sexy. We made plans to have a coffee and a stroll.
Coffee and about three miles of walking, I felt my heart flutter. He, like me, has a past. We swapped war stories. We have a shared belief in a pagan mythology. We both like living simply. We both seem to have out heads screwed on well. He, however, was seeing someone else as well. Just dating. I pulled back a little.
He invited me out for pizza and beers. We enjoyed each other. In a lot of ways. I wasn’t sure if I’d crossed the line or given away too much too soon.
Last night, we went for a stroll again. This time, the discussion got intense. In a good way. I flirted. He flirted back. I rested my head on his shoulder, he wrapped his arm around me. We admitted things. Truth serum and smiles.
This morning, as I slipped away under the cover of the remaining darkness of night, he awoke to hold me one more time. His warm smile, gentle touch, and caress against my chest made my body tremble.
I’m falling for him. Slowly. At a measured pace. He’s not seeing the other fellow any longer.