I made it through surprisingly well yesterday. While every step was very intentional, I’m pretty proud and happy about it. Only two more ‘dates’ to make it past in the next few months. I had dinner and Project Runway night with my oldest friends in Colorado, and their daughters. Perfection. I couldn’t have asked for better company on such a day. I didn’t shed one tear! (I did on Wednesday, but whatever—I didn’t yesterday!) I said a prayer of thankfulness for the gift of his love that I was able to have and prayed for him to find what he needs and to be happy and fell asleep.
Then this morning, a friend let me know what he was up to last night. I never understood when people said their heart hurt as a kid. I always figured it was just a figure of speech. I still have no idea how it happens, but it is so real. I keep asking people to quit telling me things they see him doing or where he is at. Especially on what would have been our anniversary. Every time I hear something, it there is a physical clenching in my chest. I feel exposed and slapped in the face. I don’t need to know what he has found so much more appealing and valuable than me. What drove him to end his little experiment to see what ‘boyfriend life’ is like. What was worth more than me and merited throwing me away. I don’t need to know, I don’t want to know. If I can keep him abstract in my mind, I can move on.
While we are on the topic, I have been privy to several conversations the past couple days—some I was actually involved in, others I was simply eavesdropping (one of my favorite past times). The result being: if I hear one more person say that they are breaking up with their boyfriend because they want too much or are too serious, I truly and going to kill the messenger. Imagine! The audacity of a boyfriend expecting and working towards a future, wanting to be with his boyfriend. What a needy, clingy leech! While it is prevalent in the straight community as well, it is an epidemic in the gay community. Everybody wanting a boyfriend, but having no idea what one is or why they actually want it. The men that actually want a loving, committed, monogamous, lifelong, real relationship are pawned off as weak, clingy, and pathetic. Those that don’t know to do anything but cut bait and run when the potholes come are the ones that are ‘stable,’ and more grounded. “It’s just not supposed to be this hard.” This was even said by a straight friend this week (one with children—not my friends that came for dinner)—and not about something huge or horrible—something normal. Well, who the fuck told us it shouldn’t be hard? That is shouldn’t be work? That there shouldn’t be sacrifice? That we would never have to think of anyone else or the other person’s needs—that they are there to provide for every one of out fucking insecurities and whims, but that we don’t have to reciprocate? Sure, it is easier to leave. Easier to say I’d rather be single. Go from one ‘relationship’ to the next. One bed to the next. To say that I need to figure myself out. Just need to be myself for awhile. Never mind that I’m thirty-five and don’t have the commitment or emotional capacity of a twelve-year old! Sure, it’s easy. Till you’re old, you’re ugly, you’re fat, you’re sick, you’re alone, and never ever known, never ever real with someone, never took the time to pull your dick out of every bar, dance club, or whore to look around and realize that you’re the one not living in reality. It is so horrible to see so many amazing people throwing so much of their lives away in frivolous and endless pointlessness that does nothing more than suck the life out of them and steal the possible true happiness and contentment and fulfillment they could have.
(Wow—sorry about that. That has just been building and building inside of me. And no, it actually is not about who you think it is about. I do think he has bought into that theology, but he truly is pretty young, at least compared to the ones I’ve been hearing it from lately. It all makes me truly sad and truly angry.)