It's raining, my window is open
the green trees, the still constant sing-song of the birds
gentle distant thunder
In my last entry I discussed the poem sender and how she was revealed and the story of us sharing a rather beautiful intimate healing weekend of hot sex and long walks.
But that I was now worried because being that open and vulnerable is a thing I can do for a little bit, but just not long term and yada yada.
She and I have discussed it since then.
I told her, more or less, that I am married to my solitude, but that it is an open marriage.
That I don't believe I will ever marry, but have instead of envisioned a life for myself full of a select sort of significant lovers who will intersect with me at various times throughout our lives as we age and fall apart and become whole and go in and out between marriages and affairs and all sorts of adventures.
Because after all, I am fairly certain that I am a reincarnated poet from the French 1920s.
And isn't friendship and freedom so much more rewarding in the long run?
It all sounds like such bullshit. But it's truly how I feel, which I think makes it worse.
Her response was to tell me that she was in love with me. But she also just got out of a divorce and wasn't looking for a relationship. But was surprised by her feelings nonetheless. And that maybe I just feel like I want to be alone, but what I really need is to just be loved and cared for. But that still, nonetheless, she understands that this is where I am.
Lots of swirling emotions there.
Which I get.
Which I felt.
I always feel what the other person is feeling more than I feel my own feelings. Which is why I can only take these things in brief (albeit heavenly and intense) snippets.
But God, I understand the desire to keep the thing going.
I understand the hurt of its departure.
But you cannot capture the rapids in a bucket and take them home with you.
When I mentioned marriages and affairs above, I was thinking more of my lovers than of me.
I always intend to return to my solitude.
I think this is what I need.
At least for now.
I realized the other night, after a long conversation with my mother, that a lot of my problems and mental distress comes from trying to fulfill other's expectations. Or like just trying really hard to be "normal."
But I was a sick child with busy parents and so I spent my formative years alone.
Home schooled.
Bed ridden
Little bubble boy.
But I was never bored or lonely.
I went inward.
I explored all the caverns of my imagination.
I decorated them with bright colors and comfortable cushions and filled them with books and stories.
I have always been happiest alone.
My mother tells me constantly how when I was a baby I would cry until she put me down. I didn't like to be held for very long at all. She said all I wanted to do was lay by myself and sing myself to sleep.
She always says it like she's hurt. Like I rejected her as a baby. I can see how that this could hurt a mother's feelings.
But that isn't my fault. I grieve for the child and adult versions of me who believed it was.
My only social life was the church, where I, the youngest of the Pastor's children, was always the center of attention.
I've read that the planet Mercury during the day is 800 F (427 C) but at night can drop to -280 (-173 C). This is a bit how it felt for me. I was mostly alone and ignored 6 days a week, but on the Sabbath, while the Lord rested, my senses were totally overworked.
As a baby, I kept being passed around by all the parishioners young and old. It was sometime before they connected the hives that had broken out all over my body to me being allergic to the perfumes and lotions that people would wear.
But as I grew, I did so under a microscope. I was a reflection of my father's character. Was I acting appropriately?
My older brother rebelled. I submitted.
I submitted because I would be left alone more if I did.
It is hard now to dissect my faith when I think back on this stuff.
My becoming a teenager preacher, my going into full-time ministry
I can see it now being the only way to get positive attention from my dad
and it made all the older people love me.
The same older people who told my mom that I would grow up queer or crazy if she kept letting me dress up in costumes all the time when I was very small (I was and still am in love with wearing costumes).
And it did get me the attention of girls who otherwise and rightfully did think of me as a quiet little weirdo.
But I absolutely hated all the attention that was given to me about how girls were giving me attention.
I didn't know how to react or respond.
I was never out of the ever watchful eye of someone willing to gossip about me.
It's not like I could see these girls at school.
It always made me feel awkward and embarrassed and ashamed.
And if it was known that I had a crush on someone? Well, it was fucking known.
I had a huge thing for this girl, Jenny. And her mom found out. So her mom kept having me over for dinner and would bake me pies and do all this stuff for me.
And everyone in the church knew about it and made jokes about how she was trying to catch herself a future pastor for a son-in-law.
But Jenny wasn't in to me.
I think that was known too.
I decided to not let it be known the next time I had a crush on someone.
I promised myself this would be a short entry (as always) but it is anything but (as always).
But I think you can see how all of that lead to me being a disaster in my twenties as I finally got my first kiss and then tried to be normal at parties and pretended to know what it meant to be in a relationship.
I think it explains why I might just need to be alone more than other people. And that's fine. I enjoy that.
My problems really only come when I meet a person I really connect with and they want the normal thing that you are supposed to want. I always try to be that for them to please them because I care for them.
But I just can't be that.
And that's not my fault.
And it's okay.
And I will have my series of special people--lovers, friends, companions--that I will rely on my whole life, Just in our special way, through letters and texts and wholly devoted time to each other when we do have the opportunity.
The more I can accept and love this about myself, the more I stop trying to compromise on it to please other people, the freer I will be to again be out in the world.
And that is what I want more than anything.
1:59 p.m. - 2021-05-11
Recent entries:
Papo The Wizard - 2021-06-18
This Week - 2021-06-08
Here I stopped dangerous thoughts mid-stream and changed course - 2021-05-30
I got interviewed in a thing - 2021-05-21
The Defeated Loner - 2021-05-18
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