is the penis inside out or upside down?

Date night tonight!!! It’s a little ridiculous how excited I am. Even more excited than when we first started dating! Love that boy!
I’ve gotten a few inquiries about the photography business, so that is encouraging, but slow. Knowing how to advertise is confusing, and expensive, and word of mouth take a long time to begin to build up.
Submerging Inferno is now available for the Kindle. I’ve contacted sooooooo many agents, a few more last night even. Surely, surely one will show some interest soon. I really think I’m getting close to spending as many hours searching for someone to accept me as I did writing it. If you haven’t already, please take a moment to ‘Like’ the submerging Inferno page on facebook, and, of course buy a copy and write a review please! It doesn’t matter to me where or how you get a copy. I get next to nothing (sometimes, depending on where the book is purchased, actually nothing) for each copy. I just want some sales reflected and an increase in reviews. I found a copy listed for over $500!!!! Not sure how that came about, must be a scam. Even though I’d get no money from it, it would be really cool to say that someone bought one of my books for $500! (Whiny bitch moment, and this isn’t a comment about anyone who reads the blog—most of my friends don’t read the blog. I’ve been rather shocked, still, at the number of friends who haven’t purchased a book, attempted to read it, or write a review. I’ve purchased many books because of knowing someone who knows someone who wrote a book—it feels good to be supportive. I’ve done my best to not take it personally, but its rather hard not to when they all know how long I’ve worked on this and how much effort I’m putting into trying to make this dream come true. Strange.)
In other news, my plans to become a woman may be temporarily placed on hold. It seems Dancing With the Stars’ decision to place Chaz Bono (formerly Chasity Bono) is drudging up quite the drama. Many families are refusing to watch the show out of corrupting their children, supporting the gay agenda, and because he is only famous because of his parents (kinda agree with that one). I figure I should see how it goes for him before I commit fully to living life as Bernice Witt, authoress, photographeress, teacheress, unlcess, tutoress extraordinaire. Lord, I’d better start dieting if I plan on being a pretty little mermaid—in addition to the sex change, I’ll also be having a legs-to-tale transplant. I wonder if Bachman will still allow me to swim in America waters. Probably not. She’d probably see me as a terrorist threat.

Enriched corn, vegetable, salt, maltodextrin, sugar, monosodium glutamate, autolyzed yeast extract, citric acid, artificial color, corn syrup solids,

I am at risk of losing my children---maybe taken by authorities or to an early grave.
As you know, my children are Dunkyn and Dolan. Smokey and I were debating this morning whether having twelve children or twelve Corgis would be more conducive to a good and happy life. He decided that if it were four, we should choose children. If it were twelve we should choose Corgis. I decided that either way, there would be a lot of poop. But seriously, can you imagine waking up, opening your bathroom door to the rush of twelve Corgis scampering about, their fox ears trembling in anticipation of the first morning petting, their nubbin tails ferociously waddling back and forth in their compulsive love of you? How wonderful!
I may never have that joy as I am becoming an increasingly bad parent. While I never buy the topmost quality of dog food, as it is about sixty bucks a bag, I do buy good dog food—with meat being the top most ingredient, typically lamb. I read the labels of dog food with more attentiveness than I do my own. Last night, due to money and to location, I bought a bag that is ten dollars cheaper for the same amount of what I usually get. The main ingredients? Wheat and animal fat. The boys, of course, LOVE it! It’s doggy fast food after all. I’m sure the amount of diarrhea on our walk this afternoon will be staggering.
I felt the smallest bit hypocritical after judging one of my student’s parents all day. The kid always brings a huge bag of chips to school. A new one ever day. Really? When the mother dropped off the lunch yesterday, I thought I take a look and see what my student was going to partake. A bag of fried chips and a bag of beef jerky. I nearly went back and confronted her on how she takes care of her kid, then remembered the rest of the situation. For her, this is good parenting. At least she’s not abandoning her family at the moment, like she does from time to time. No wonder the kid is miserable all the time!
I hate all the stupid food laws and restrictions and warnings the government is trying to enforce upon the populace. However, at that moment, I was tempted to call up Michele Obama and become her campaign manager. Disgusting! In this case, as in so many, it’s not a money issue. Adding up the cost of the chips and jerky proved it to be more expensive than a school lunch. Insane!
Am I judging based on my own morals? As a hypocrite (as someone who LOVES Sonic)? Am I saying she loves her son less than she should since she is detrimentally affecting her child’s health? Am I a rich old white guy looking down at every one else (I wish! I would love rich to be one of my modifiers!)? You bet! Yes to all of them!
Absolutely disgusting!
And, in a way, heart breaking. If food is love (and the buttons flying off my pants on a regular basis attest that food indeed is equivalent is love), there is no love there.

clarity of love and weakness and love

The second week of school already. Now to fast forward to Christmas, then Spring, then Summer break. Not really. But kinda.
It has been the hardest transition back to work that I’ve had so far. Partly due to such an amazing summer and partly due to Smokey and I adjusting to a new rhythm of life.
It seems that my emotional work is never done. Trying to figure out how to love without suffocating him with my co-dependent and all consuming nature. I could be with him twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week and never get tired of it. That type of intensity isn’t normal (or healthy) and it wears the other person down. He’s been so supportive of who I am, strengths and weaknesses, but this has be draining and consuming for him. The adjustment period has been a struggle and is nowhere close to being over. Many would simply run away or not say anything until they couldn’t take it anymore. Luckily, he is strong and caring enough to put his (and actual) reality out there and work through it with me. Not easy and very scary, but building trust the entire time. That I can trust him to mean what he says and not walk away the instant things get difficult. I know there are no guarantees, but the tighter I hold on, the more risk of losing him.
It’s difficult to know that I still have work to do, tears to shed, areas to grow. After all the therapy, after all the angst previous, after all the self-reflection and work, I want to be done and simply be where I am. However, where I am isn’t healthy, for anyone.
I was helping one of my new fourth graders last week. He is very impacted. He had picked one other boy that he relates to, and, after two days, considered him his best friend. When the other boy is the slightest bit busy doing anything else, my little one looses it. Sobbing, trying to run away, heart-felt wracking sobs of how the other boy hates him, etc. He couldn’t put into words his feelings. I gave an example of how I feel in similar situations. My heart tightening and constricting. The feeling of terror and panic and pain at the thought of the other person not loving you as intensely as you love them, the difficultly breathing, the heavy dark weight that seems to crush down upon you, . . . . He looked at me, tears streaming, his breathing starting to return to a human pace, as he just nodded, his eyes wide. I knew exactly what he was feeling. I knew how much pain he is in. How scary and wildly uncontrollable for a nine year old when its so consumingly agonizing for a thirty-three year old. In this little boy, I saw a mirror and my own reflection was crystal clear. I spoke of healthy relationships, how being equals in the relationship/friendship is vital, how they both need to be friends with other people, how doing things on there own would actually benefit both of them and their relationship. Things I know to be True, things I don’t really want to be true. He gave some nods of understanding and said, he didn’t want it to be like that. With a sad laugh, I agreed with him and told him I how much I understood and wished things like he did, and we came up with the beginnings of a plan to help him begin to try to have his first healthy friendship.
It’s a difficult, humbling thing to see the most insecure, most imbalanced, most unattractive characteristics of yourself modeled in someone so broken and hurting. It’s the last place you want to see your likeness. However, the clarity it brings can be life-altering. At least, I hope so.

reality

Back to reality. Summer is over. Sleeping past 5:45 is over. Working out in the morning is over. Being with Smokey 24/7 is over. This was the hardest year that I’ve had to come back to work.
Now that it’s arrived, I’m actually okay to be back in the grind of things. It will be fun to see how Smokey and I adjust to every day life.
It was the best, most romantic summer—a summer that I hope is the beginning of the rest of my life.
I didn’t get any writing done, which I have a little guilt about, but I really just needed to focus on being alive again for a bit. I did start the photography business (BrandonWittPhotography.com), which is off to a very slow start. Tutored a ton. And submitted to lots of agents. Received a few rejection letters.
There is tons of drama within with my family. A lady is attempting to steal our house, and is seemingly succeeding. Bitch! My nephew’s court date is the beginning of next month. Please keep that in your prayers.
Anyway, let’s see what’s next!

Us

Leap
I leap
I leapt

My wings were clipped
Gravity was too strong
Until I heard wind on snow

Leap
You leap
You leapt

Am I the wings or are you?
Am I the feathers or are you?
Maybe you’re the wind

Leap
We leap
We leapt

Hand in hand
Fall and crumble
Rise and soar

Leap
Still Leaping
Will always leap

Ride the currents with me
Reach the stars with me
Fold our wings around each other

prepare for liftoff

What a whirlwind. Insane! I’ve pretty much come to terms that I’m not even going to begin to write the next book this summer. After a little remorse, I’ve come to terms with that. So much is happening and everything (mostly) is wonderful. In the mostly category, please keep my family’s financial and baby issues in your prayers please.
In the wonderful category, my photography business is now up and running. Still have to get some minor details ironed out, but it’s all good thus far. Please check out the website: BrandonWittPhotography.com, and like it on facebook if you’d like. There’s a lot of steps in starting a business, many I haven’t even realized yet. And, pray that it will take off by mid-August to the point I don’t have return to massage. I don’t think I can face that again. It’s like part of my soul had died and is slowly coming back to life—or quickly (of course, we all know that not doing massage isn’t the only [or main] reason for returning to life).
It really seems that fear is a must for greatness and wonderful things happening in life. Starting my own business built on one of my dreams and talents is terrifying. Terrifying. Trying to get my books published is even scarier—gotten more rejection since the last time we ‘spoke.’
Opening my heart has been the scariest of all, which only makes sense. Less than when we first started, but still too often to enjoy, fear over-takes me around Smokey changing his mind and just walking away. I know those fears are normal for everyone, and especially for me since I’ve already been on the receiving end of a turn and bolt maneuver.
That being said, things (somehow) get better every day. More confirmation that I’m not psychotic and really did know that this is the man I’ll marry. More enjoyment and peace being in his arms and presence. Simply falling more in love with him every day. Gives me the courage to pursue even more of my dreams, not give up on the ones I’d already started, and start to be Brandon again. All the while finding enough love in myself to desperately want to do the same for him. It feels like everything that came before was practice to get me ready, to break me so that I could give of myself fully, to strip away all I was, all the weight that held me down so that I could fly. So that we can fly.

over dinner

I’m making progress on setting up the photography business. Smokey and I spent quite awhile going over names to finally settle upon Brandon Witt Photography. I know, quite revolutionary. However, all the others I liked sounded rather ostentatious and like I was trying too hard. So, go for the simple and obvious. I am now working on setting up and LLC and creating a website before I can do anything else. It’s scary, but I’m rather excited. I have some guilt around postponing writing, but this needs to take precedence right now if I have hope to have things in place by the time school begins again.
Smokey and I had dinner with my oldest friends in Colorado last night, P,C,SV,&SDR-L. Not too far into the meal, I announced to them that I was going to marry Smokey. It wasn’t a thought through declaration. Nor was it something that Smokey knew I was going to say. You know me… Their reaction was so swift, so heart-felt, so genuine that it completely threw me off guard. They both gasped and cheered, CR-L instantly got teary, and then she and PR-L got up and hugged my head where I was sitting at the table. It probably sounds weird that they hugged my head, but it made sense at the time. Of course, you’re probably thinking that the part of the story that doesn’t make sense is me proclaiming my intentions of marriage when yesterday marked our one-month anniversary. And you’re probably right. Completely. However, it’s the fact that it makes no sense that makes me trust it. I knew instantly, I still do, the feeling has done nothing but grow. And… CR-L said that she knew it from the time I started talking about him the night they took me to see Billy Elliot. So there!
I’ve had many (MANY) freak-outs and lost ‘sanity’ moments, even for me. However, not one of them has been due to worry that he isn’t the one, that I’m unsure if we are meant to spend our lives together, or fear out of me being caught up in some irrational whirl-wind. (Even if those are things I am supposed to be freaked out by.) Instead, the only fear I have is that I won’t be enough for him, or that I’ll be TOO much for him to handle or deal with, and that he will simply turn his head and walk away. We all know why those would be my issues, even if you feel they are the wrong ones or contradictory to my faith in our meant-to-be-ness (me? a contradiction? never!). I’m ready for those fears to subside. They’re terrifying and exhausting. And yes, I’m sure there’s a logical probability that I’ll look back on these posts and see my own sickness and delusion. Logical probability. Sure. Nevertheless, I am placing 100% of my surety, pride, faith, and being into the belief that I’ll look back and these and go, “Yep, no surprise. I KNEW it. Simply knew it.”

love as a faggot

It seems that being miserable is definitely better for art. I have a hard time sitting down to write or work on photos or anything, really… I do more than most people, but according to what I should be doing, not so much. However, this may be the only time in years that Smokey and I will have off at the same time and building our foundation is my priority—while still writing, photographing, and planning for the new business. It’s amazing how life has done a completely 180. Blows my mind. I’m so thankful. Terrified beyond measure, but so very, very thankful. It scares me because I’ve never really been an ‘it all works out the way it’s supposed to’ kindof person, especially the past few years. The last twelve years or so, actually. However, that is exactly how it feels. Like everything finally is beginning to make sense. Sound delusional? It’s a definite possibility. If this is delusion, please let me stay in this psychotic state for the rest of eternity.

In reality, not that the above isn’t reality—no matter what you may say—Smokey and I went shopping at the grocery store a couple days ago. We made a perfect and healthy dinner (he’s a health nut—no one’s perfect). While at the store, I had my arms around him while we were checking out an aisle trying to find Quinoa (I know... I know…). This man walked by the end of the aisle. He shouted out ‘Freakin’ Queers!’ You know me, I’ve never quite learned to turn the other cheek, so I yelled back, offering to let him join if he wanted. (I’m a polite Bible-Belt boy, it’s rude not to share.) He responded to my heart-felt invitation with a, ‘Faggot!’ He could have just sent an RSVP. Some people!
Granted, Smokey and I know we’re a little touchy-feeling. We’re that couple. We even make ourselves gag. However, we weren’t making-out or anything close, much the same as I’ve seen many straight couples act in public, much less than some.
It took a couple hours before I felt ‘normal’ again. I kept apologizing to Smokey, but he was supportive and related it to being harassed, intimidated, and threatened. Which, is exactly what it is, and my body recognized it for what it was before my mind did. The event made us realize that we need to be a little more intentional, so that we don’t get killed (and I’m not trying to be dramatic to make a point) or choose to do so both to simply live a normal life while making a political statement at the same time.
Smokey pointed out that the man could have at least given some reason or lesson for his hatred. Told us we were going to Hell or some such nonsense. It’s a piss poor argument when all you can do is call names.
Welcome to 2011.

almost jealous of myself

Going to my first gay wedding this Sunday and my first bachelor party tonight. I’m pretty excited actually. The wedding is at the Denver Clock Tower (which I’ve always wanted to go into), and I simply want to see a gay wedding. I should see one before I have one, right? I think it will be a blast and in inspiration.
I’ve spent so much time with Stephen and tons of friends I haven’t have time to blog or even begin planning book two of the series, plus I’m working like crazy to get all the photos caught up and scheming about the photography business. I’m rather excited. The thought of never having to do massage again? Wow! The thought of being able to teach, photograph, and write for a living? Wow times a trillion!
I love life right now!

this moment and the ones before

It has been longer than ever since the last post. In all actuality, I’ve needed to blog. Had so much to say. Finally have good things to say, and I’m not even blogging. Though most people wouldn’t even take seriously what I have to say or think I’m crazy (which we all know I am)—good thing I don’t care, huh?
Casual updates (you know I have to go from least to most important). I am starting my tutoring job today, which will enable me to stop massage, at least for the summer. Hopefully, by the time fall arrives, I’ll have a different plan in place and won’t have to ever do massage again (unlikely, but a girl can dream). I hope to start writing by the end of next week. I’m also going to start a photography business. I have no idea how to go about it, but I think, given the chance, I can pull it off. The people I’ve done photo shoots for have loved the end product, so maybe I can do the same and charge for it. Can you imagine? I get to do all the things I love? Write (with luck), photography, and teach? I really am grasping for the starts, for more than my share of happiness. So, if you or anyone you know needs photos……
May 30th was my 33rd birthday, which everyone calls the Jesus birthday. I knew that was the age he was crucified, but I didn’t know people referred to it as that. However, several people have said that from different, unconnected circles, so it must be pretty prevalent. The birthday was wonderful, rather surreal considering how my life has been flipped around, but I managed to realize that panic I felt that day was more do to my own fear of loss and the natural hysteria that my birthday conjures up—I didn’t freak out or fuck up anything.
HWMNBN contacted me a few days ago via email. Smokey was with me when I received it—there are no secrets, and he knows HWMNBN’s role in my life and that I will always love him, regardless of the degree. The email threw me for a tailspin for a bit. Tears, of course. He was so sweet about my book. It seemed he’d read my blog, which blew my mind. He was incredibly sweet about Smokey (how happy he was for me, how I deserve someone like this, etc.). At first, I was rather thrown off by his communication, but then, I realized it was perfect timing. While it confirmed my love for HWMNBN, it solidified that I choose Smokey. It also made me realize that I am able to change my interactions with HWMNBN—while I can’t be buddy-buddy, I can see him out and about and say hello. No matter what, regardless of the pain of the past two years, he gave me the best two years of my life that I’d know thus far and has changed me irrevocably. And, he did nothing wrong outside of changing his mind and what he wanted with me.
For my birthday, Smokey took me on a three-day road trip with Mesa Verde as the end result, with a couple stops in the middle. (If you’re a facebooker, you should check you the photos.) It was perfect. Truly, perfect. Tonight will be our first night apart since May 15th. My brother is taking me to a bed and breakfast, it was his birthday present to me, which will be wonderful to have some brother time. We are considering this the end of our first date, tomorrow starting the second date. Yeah, we’re both crazy. Insane. Boundary-less. Perfection. Every day with him confirms what I felt that first moment as we started our double-feature date: He’s the one. I’m going to spend my life with him. I am head-over-heals and every other cliché you can think of in love with him. Crazy? Absolutely. Believe in our fairy tale? With every ounce of my being. I love him fully. Period.

The one you can point back to and say, "He finally broke with reality, " or, "Wow, he really did know."

Gonna call it like I see it—even if it’s ridiculous.
From the night we went to the double feature movies (Priest and Bridesmaids), thirteen days ago, I knew Smokey would be the man I married.
Crazy, huh?
Yeah.
And granted, any number of things could happen and things end in a moment. I could be delusional. I could be simply needy and clingy and enmeshed. I could be acting out of hurt and fear. I could be pathetic and desperate. Or, I could be right. I suppose I could even be all those things and still be right.
I’m not saying this to get a rise out of people, or to celebrate something that hasn’t happened. I’m saying it because I’m thinking it. Feeling it. And have been for thirteen days.
Months ago, I preemptively called bull-shit on me being in a future relationship and being happy again—that I would be deceiving myself. Well, that may be true. Or maybe, life has shown me that it’s a little more magical than I believed. With HWMNBN, we did everything right. I didn’t choose to spend my life him for over a year, and it was a decision made out of love and logic (not the parenting/teaching handbook Love and Logic). And, I still stand by that decision. I loved him. I still love him. And I could have spent my life with him, always loving him, and being happy. We would’ve been, if he’d allowed it. However, with Smokey, there’s no logic. There’s no months of getting to know each other, no debating the pros and cons, no being convinced over months that we’re right for each other. There’s just this instant sensation and relief (despite the fear) of, ‘There you are. Finally.’ Delusion or magic or destiny? After the ‘smart’ way and its fallout, why not choose magic? Choose the impossible. In many ways, I’ve always lived my life that. Go for the impossible (get published –two more rejection letters this week).
My life has brought me to the point where I’m both insane and brave enough to bet on magic.

liftoff

Yesterday was rather torturous. All due to my issues. I couldn’t relax, utterly convinced he was going to leave, that he’d change his mind in the middle of the day and realize he doesn’t love me. (Wonder where those issues came from…) I was near tears all day and just sick to the stomach.
On the way home, I realized that I was sucking all the joy out of everything and going to end up shoving him away quicker than lightening. I had to get a grip. I’m sure I’ll have to have that conversation a millions time over. Gotta love baggage.
After work, Smokey called and said he was going to happy hour with a couple of friends and wanted me to come and then for us to go to dinner. It turned out to be one of the most perfect nights of my life.
Happy hour was fun, very.
Then, he took me to Beatrice and Woodsly. It was the most gorgeous restaurant I’ve ever been in. It was like an enchanted forest, amber light pouring through the trees. Unreal. I ate crawfish beignets and rabbit over carrot puree. Who am I? We touched constantly through the two hour plus meal, made friends with the people around us. At the end of the night, he took me to the wine cellar basement, which was gorgeous. No one was there, music playing softly. He proceeded to take me in his arms and dance with me, kiss me, and whisper his love, tears glistening as he spoke. The waiter that passed by us just smiled and kept going.
It was one of those perfect extended moments, one that will stay with me forever.
We lay in bed and talked and laughed and kissed until nearly three, when he made some ‘boyfriend’ reference. I paused and asked if he really meant to say that. He did, and at the risk of sound like at twelve-year old girl, we’re official.
Leap.

from the ashes

It’s gonna take some time to deal with the fear of losing again. I hope I can figure it out at some point, and it guess it’s okay to not be great, or even good, at it yet. I’ve spent the past two plus years grieving and dealing with loss. I guess it only makes sense that’s where my psyche would go now. In the midst of everything wonderful going on, I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop (wonder what that meant originally…). However, on one hand, there’s this core/gut feeling that this is It that contradicts with the fear. I know it’s stupid to say after a week and a half, but there it is. I just don’t want my fear and my loss issues to get in the way of all the positive that’s happening and turn our ‘Honeymoon’ stage into stress and mini-therapy sessions.
At dinner last night, we were talking about going out to bars and such to see friends, and a crazy realization hit me. I thought, IF I ever started dating again, that I wouldn’t be able to go Out with whoever the man would be for fear of seeing HWMNBN. I wouldn’t want him to see me with someone else. Wouldn’t want him to think I don’t love him or taking back my promises to him. (I know, he left, not me. I know, I know.) While [hmmm… almost typed his name and I haven’t asked permission to use his name, and I’m not sure if I will. Please hold while I think of an appropriate moniker… Got it! One of his vices that I thought would be a deal breaker… and I mean this in a loving, pet name kind of way, not judgy… Smokey. {Smokey, if you ever read this, I’m smiling right now at my cute name for you—not thinking about lung cancer. Well, now I am, but I wasn’t at the time. }] Anyway, while Smokey and I were talking (I like that name, sounds kind sexy—even if I am more of a ‘bear’ than he is) I realized that I simply wanted to be out in public with him. I don’t care if HWMNBN sees (I do still love him, always will, but I love Smokey in his own right, not because I don’t have HWMNBN). I don’t care if people think I’m being stupid because it’s too soon or we’re moving too fast. I don’t care if it’s only been a month since I started to really live again. I don’t care that there’s a chance that I’ll end up looking like a fool. It was such a surprising feeling, such a liberating moment. I felt free. Free to breath easier. Free to take ownership of my city again. Free to revel in the love that has found me—whether my gut is right or wrong.
Hmmm… maybe Smokey works on multiple levels. As, it seems, he is sending my old fears up in smoke (while creating new ones).

airborne

So, I’m eloping this weekend.
Well, not really. But, I would. Crazy stupid, I know. I think one of the things that makes me trust this, besides the gut feeling, is that his ‘flaws’ are very obvious to me. Nearly half of my ‘must haves’ aren’t there, or are a different perspective than what I would choose if I were custom designing a man. However, after my own experiences and observing countless others, I know there is no realistic expectation for perfection or even close to it. He isn’t perfect. Neither was HWMNBN. Neither am I. Neither are the people in the few relationships that I admire and want to emulate. He does have my top three, however: 1. (Call me shallow) kissing ability. I don’t’ want to spend my life with, or even date, someone who can’t make me lose reality within his kiss. 2. Innate, gregarious, nearly compulsive, kindness/sweetness—not just to me, but to everyone. 3. Humor. The ability to make me laugh constantly—make it where I don’t want to be anywhere but by his side (which is a rare quality since I require so much me time and people can get under my skin so quickly). These three are my top, the things I can’t live without in a partner. Everything else is compromisingly gravy.
This whirlwind romance, this rocket launched, this flip of the switch, has the potential to blow up in my face, leaving me more wounded and bleeding than I was before. However, it also has the potential to be my own fantasy romance novel come to life. I just hope the author has a less gothic/tragedy flair than I do in my own writing.
Regardless of whether or not it’s smart, mature, realistic… I’m in love. Blows my mind—I truly thought this part of me had died. And, I for sure thought I didn’t deserve another chance at real love when so many never even get a taste. Damn the consequences. Screw figuring out every detail. Fuck that I’m at risk of devastation. I’m also at risk of having it all. I have leapt off the cliff. There is no going back. It’s either fly or fall.
I’m in love.

Rapturous Love

I went to an engagement party with the boy this weekend (Friday). We were the only gay people there, so it wasn’t a gay party. Outside of the couple, one of the main topics was the upcoming rapture the following day. Most people said they were for sure they would not be among the ones taken. The thing that struck me, in the midst of all the joking that was occurring, was the seriousness of the party guests as they talked about how they hoped it would happen (they didn’t believe it would, but were daydreaming about ‘what if…’). They spoke of a world without Christians and how nice it would be—not in a kill Christians kind of way, just in a ‘they’re gone’ scenario. How their hate over so many groups of people would disappear with them. How gays could marry. How they would no longer try to tell everyone how they should think and live their lives. Their accusations weren’t groundless or over the top. From an outside perspective (and, on a personal inside perspective), I could agree with every accusation they made. And it really struck me how the world perceives us. Even as I write Us, I realize that I can’t really count myself among that group. Well, maybe I could, but they sure wouldn’t count me among them. It’s interesting, if the rapture had happened Saturday, I knew I wouldn’t be one of the ones going. Mainly due to the fact that the group that was declaring this event held beliefs so opposite to whom I am that if they were right, their God was most definitely not my God. I did a little more research about them after the fact. I’d originally said that these posters and such didn’t seem to be in an attempt to raise money—that they seemed to simply be trying to reach people before it was too late. An act I can respect, even if it was laughable and completely unbiblical. However, I found out, due to these predictions, and previous endeavors, they have over $104 Million in assets! What also disturbs me is how many people who claimed to be long-standing Christians bought into this. I can understand people new the faith or those who never had any to begin with, but for those who have been Christians and have claimed to read the Bible, there should have been no question of the invalidity of these claims. If you’re going to hold so staunchly to the Bible and it’s teaching that you believe I’m damned to Hell, then at least know it enough that you’re not duped by things that are predicted to be falsehoods within its very pages.
On a personal note, man, am I in deep. I know it’s too soon, I know all the stupidity of it all. However, I’m in love. I’ve had crushes since HWMNBN, but I’m in love. Completely. And, it scares the shit out of me. I have something to loose again. I’m doing my best to simply enjoy it all and let it happen as it does, but that’s never been a natural state of being for me, and it’s a thousand times worse after the past few years. Despite the pain, there was as safety in the place I was in. Nothing could really affect me, outside of family. My walls were up so high, I was so solitary and confined, safe within the pain and seclusion. I don’t think I even realized it—I do now. The walls have crumbled, even as I tried to keep them up. I feel exposed, unprotected, and terrified. Of course I also am excited, happy, and anxious (good and bad). And stressed the fuck out! I so don’t want to be hurt again. Life is messy. Wonderful, but messy. [insert big sigh of stress and twiterpation here…]

closing my eyes and. . .

We leapt yesterday. Full force. No holds barred. (No idea what that really means.) Breaking every single rule there is.
Part of me is scared shitless. Most of me is screaming that I’m being stupid and I should know better. However, there’s just this core feeling that it’s gonna be alright. Of course, we know how accurate my gut feelings are.
Whatever.
I’m going for it!

in mid-leap

It has been a crazy four days. Crazy is probably the correct word choice.
The date lasted from Sunday to Thursday. It would have been our second date, but maybe it should count as our second, third, fourth, and fifth.
For one of the first times, I’m not going to write about all the details yet. One, it’s too close. Two, I don’t want people’s input effecting my perspective—negative or positive. Three, I need to sit in it longer to even put it into words.
On one hand, I’m being absolutely foolish—way, way too fast, way, way too enmeshed, way, way too everything.
On the other. HWMNBN and I did everything perfectly. Just how you’re supposed to. We took our time, and boy did we. And, till he left, things were wonderful. But, he still left, even though we’d done it by the book. Not that the end results negates the process, but it does show there are no guarantees. So, maybe the reverse is true. Just because you break every rule in the book, maybe it doesn’t mean the end result can’t be good.
This could go one of two ways.
More than likely, I’ll have to look back on this and lament about my stupidity and allowing myself to have more hurt, take another long look at my codependent tendencies, and own to setting myself up.
However, it could be exactly what it feels like. Right. Comfortable. Passionate. Genuine. That’s really what it feels like—almost instantly. One of those times you look at the other person and go, “Oh. There you are.” Almost a relief. An aching relief, but relief nonetheless. I feels like it’s going to be one of those stories you hear that the people just knew. Both of us. Both just knew.
Gonna be one hell of a story. Either way. But, I really think he showed up. Not ready for it. Wasn’t quite done doing my own thing and not having to answer to anyone. Wasn’t published. But, he’s shown up…

a lot can happen in two and half days

Pretty great weekend. Went out twice. Two nights in a row of dancing. Saw three movies (well, two, but saw Bridesmaids twice). A whole day with Gavin and the family. Finally got the backyard all raked picked up. Spent an evening with the bff. Went on two dates. Got three hours of sleep Sunday night. Right now, I don’t have words to describe what may or may not be going on. If I did, you’d think I’m crazy and pathetic and a twelve year old who should know better. However, if things go as they could, it will be a really romantic story in several months…
I’ll leave it at that.

why it is you're holding onto me like it's the end of the world

A few weeks ago I brought up about the end of the world billboard signs in Denver (at least I meant to… I think I did). Anyway, they are announcing that Jesus is returning in eight more days or so. I visited their website. They are for real, not seeming to be trying to get money, just letting people know. Well, it seems I’m not the only one who noticed (not that I expected I would be, they’re billboards), but I didn’t expect them to draw as much attention as they are getting. They were on my conservative talk radio station this morning. Well, they weren’t, but their topic was and the date they are providing. This show’s host is the most politically like me of any person in the media that I’ve come across. Very American-freedom oriented, fiscally conservative, but also a stanch advocate for gay-rights and gay-marriage. Which is odd for a sixty-year old biker-dude who’s straight. The callers range from the no-thing-as-Hell people to the ones that are convinced by the information presented by this group and are preparing for the world to end in a little over a week.
It’s funny. I don’t believe it at all. Been through the end of the world stuff way too many times as a child. Plus, Biblically, there is no foundation for it, just the opposite in fact—that anyone that says they know the day. . . don’t. At least how I’ve interpreted it (and was taught). However, I still get that same or similar feeing (san terror that I used to have). It makes me sad still. I know if the world ended, perfection would ensue. But… I still want to live my life. I want to see if I can have true love more than once (though I’m more okay with the end than I used to be, having experienced love I never dreamed I’d have). I want to see my books published. I want to see my children. And, honestly, more than anything, I want to see Gavin grow—live every phase of his life with him, even though there’s gonna be so many hard times for him. That date, even though I don’t believe, has this little grain of anxiety in my chest, that will be relieved when that time comes and goes.
Some things die hard.

tutoring with the gods

These rainy days when I have to work are difficult. Not in a depressing way, but it takes everything in me to not call off, go to the coffee shop, and write for hours on end. Talk about perfect! Soon, though, soon (sans rain, more than likely).
I took the night off massage (fiscally stupid, but emotionally necessary) and saw Thor in IMAX 3D with a dear friend. It was fun. Not one I’d see over and over again, but good nonetheless. However, it was a little painful. Most of the time, when there is a gorgeous guy in a movie, after a few minutes I become numb to him and just loose myself in the movie. It was impossible with Thor. And, it wasn’t even due to his one (only one!!!! WTF?) shirtless scene. Every moment he was on screen I was lost to him, not the movie. Holy crap! If he ever walked into a room, I would turn and run the other way, right after I recovered from fainting.
I am CONSIDERING adding tutoring to the job list this summer. It would be nice to have a job that doesn’t require me to stand in a darkened room for hours, and one that would allow me to be with kids (even if they are kids that don’t want to be in school in summer). I think it would probably be a good choice; however, I won’t do it if I can’t make a similar amount to massage, as I simply can’t sacrifice more of my writing time. That really (after family) has to be my priority this summer—both in terms of working for my dreams and also giving my psyche a rest from everything and loosing reality to the pages. I almost instantly said no and turned it down, but I’m starting to lean towards yes… We will have to see how it goes.
Turns out, I’m going out TWICE this weekend! Twice! Talk about playing with fire. I’m not sure what the trigger is, but I was in tears twice yesterday over HWMNBN. That’s not been typical lately, so I am worried about a set-back. Gonna get out there and force myself to live again, trying to get out of my own head and continued grief. Maybe this will be the weekend we run into each other. I doubt it, but you never know. I hope not.
In case you didn’t know, folks, it’s almost Friday. Almost the weekend!