[untitled]

This five-year old boy is looking
at the two art students sitting
next to him. The girl has
her septum pierced and
large headphones.

“Stop staring,” his young
mother whispers.
His eyes are old. He eats
French Onion Sun Chips
carefully, with purpose.

He is mixed—
luscious curly hair,
creamy tan skin.
His mother’s dyed red hair is
tied up in a messy bun. She
talks to the train conductor.

He notices me smiling
at him, and smiles back
(minus a front incisor).

“He is so cute,” I remark to
his mother. She acknowledges with
an unsurprised, “Thank you.”

He waves to me. I wave back
and watch him eat,
entranced. He devours
a chip, forcing it comically into
his small mouth. I giggle.

His mom wipes the
crumbs off his face and shirt,
opens a Pepsi and
gives him a sip.

“I like soda,” he says.

We all get off at
Brigham Circle.

He grabs his mother’s
hand. She instructs him,
“Say goodbye.”
He turns and waves, with
an exuberant, “Bye!”

Happy.

I have realized I am at my happiest when I’m in a new place, walking in the sun, by myself. I have happiness often, even when these conditions are violated – but it’s not the same as when it’s just me and my brain, exploring the world.

In Another Life, Part II

Editing – take 1!

———————————————————————————–

I walked upstairs. I pulled gray pants out of my bag and changed clothes, and sat on the edge of the bed. She walked in.
I just want you to see where I’m coming from.
I do see where you’re coming from. I really do. I think you don’t understand where I’m coming from.
I just want you to trust me. It hurts me that you don’t. And I made myself that promise and I’m not going to let it happen again, or we’re done.
I lay back on the bed and covered my face with my hands.
I think you’d rather be at your mom’s right now. I don’t think you want to be here.
Why do you say that?
She walked out of the room. I could leave. It was getting late, and was another hour and a half to Connecticut. I could stay, and just sweep it all under the rug, and end it in the morning. Ending it now would make it a difficult night’s sleep. She walked back in.
Hey, are you mad at me?
Why would I be mad?
I just don’t want you to be mad.
I’m fine.
Do you wanna watch TV?
Yeah.
She sat on the bed beside me, and put her arms around me. We fumbled with the three different remotes until the television came on. I picked a show on Comedy Central, starring Demetri Martin. I giggled.
This guy’s a fucking tool.
I think he’s funny.
Girls probably think he’s hot and wanna fuck him but he’s got ugly hair and he’s a stupid piece of shit. Sarah Silverman is better.
Okay, then change it.
No, whatever. We’ll just watch this.
But you apparently hate it. So change it.
I put the remote on her lap.
No, I don’t care. We can watch this.
She put it back on mine. I picked up the remote and changed the channel to Food Network. Alton Brown’s show.
Ugh, this guy sucks.
But you liked him when we watched that show a couple months ago.
Whatever.
Okay, fine. Pick whatever you want.
I put the remote back on her lap.
We can put it back to Comedy Central.
No, you hated it.
I was just joking.
Well, I don’t wanna watch it anymore.
Why?
You ruined it, I thought.
It’s cool. Watch whatever you want.
I sighed, and closed my eyes.
Are you sleeping?
I’m resting. What’s up?
I just wanna talk to you.
What about?
I dunno. I just want you to be cute like you usually are.
Okay…well, we were just talking a lot earlier and things were weird, so I was hoping we could just lie here and chill and watch TV and be quiet.
I just wanna talk to you for a little while, but you don’t wanna talk to me.
No, it’s not that. I just need to chill out for a bit.
Can you just talk to me?
About what?
Just tell me what’s going on.
I lay on the bed quietly, gathering my words correctly.
You can tell me.
I paused.
You can tell me. You don’t love me anymore, do you?
I do love you. It’s just…things have…changed.
Since when?
The last week or so.
Yeah, I know this week was weird. I was pushing you away because I thought you were being weird.
I know.
Is it about the drinking thing?
Well, that didn’t help.
Because if that’s what caused this, I’ll never forgive myself. This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. Shit.
I picked up the remote and turned the volume down.
It’s not your fault. You were great. You were so great to me.
You only thought you loved me because I’m so nice.
No. All the things I said were real.
Halloween was, like, the best memory I ever had.
I know. Me too. It was real. I promise.
We both started to cry. I put my head on her shoulder, my arm across her stomach. Tears rolled off my cheeks, and she wiped them away.
Shit. Who’s gonna take you to the airport?
I dunno. I guess I’ll just call a cab.
Ugh, dammit. What about Memorial Day? I already paid the deposit on the condo.
I dunno. You can take someone else.
But I only wanted to go with you.
Well, maybe you’ll be dating someone else by then.
I’m not gonna be dating anyone for a long time. I don’t want anyone but you. And even if I’m messing around with someone, I don’t wanna spend all that money on them. I only wanna go with you.
Well, maybe we can be friends by then.
Maybe. How long were you gonna wait to tell me all this?
Another week or so. I really wanted things to work out. I did. I just knew something was wrong. And I waited because I didn’t want it to be true. I didn’t. I really, really didn’t. But there was just something wrong. And I’m so sorry. I hate that I hurt you.
I’m not gonna stop loving you. Just know that.
She sighed.
Maybe in another life, she said.
Yeah. Maybe.

In Another Life

Author’s note(s): 1) This is for an assignment for my English [creative writing] class. It’s a dialogue between two people. Come to think of it…I don’t have the assignment in front of me, but I think the characters are supposed to interact with their environment. These two characters do, only to a small extent. I suppose I should make them interact more; 2) I am trying a new Cormac McCarthy-esque style of dialogue writing – no quotation marks. I’m toying around with the idea of using italics for one or the other character’s words. Not sure. Here it is, as is; and 3) This is a real conversation between my now ex-girlfriend and me. We broke up on Friday. It sucks. Big time. I am so unhappy, but it was the right thing to do. Although I can honestly say I think we will be friends some day. We are texting a bit here and there, miss each other terribly, and have pretty much decided that we are going to be cool by Memorial Day so we can go to P-Town [Provincetown, MA] together with our friends.

Any feedback on the form is appreciated – especially from my English-majoring/journalist/writer friends [Justin, Hannah, C, Cort, CBW]. The other 3 of you are invited to comment, too :)

Anyway. Here it is.

—————————————————————————-

In Another Life

She sat on the arm of the couch to my right.
You don’t mind if I have a cigarette, do you?
Why would I mind?
Well, I know you don’t like it, so I just wanted to check with you.
Do whatever you want.
I took a sip of beer.
I don’t wanna do whatever I want. I want to do what you want me to do.
But I don’t care.
Just tell me what to do.
Well, I’m not going to tell you what to do. Do whatever you want.
Are you mad at me?
No, I just don’t care what you do.
But almost everything I do, I think about you, and what you would want.
Sure doesn’t seem like it.
What? What do you mean?
I sat silently, gathering my words correctly.
C’mon. Just tell me.
I mean…about the drinking.
I know I said I was gonna quit, but I thought about it a lot and I don’t think I have a problem so I don’t think it’s a big deal if I have a few drinks on a Friday. I mean, I’m not getting shitfaced all week. I still go to work and I’m responsible. I just don’t think it’s a big deal.
Alright then. Do whatever you want.
Why do you keep saying that?
Because it really doesn’t matter what I tell you to do or not do. You’re just gonna do whatever you want anyway.
What are you saying?
I told you I wasn’t gonna be around you when you drink anymore. And you said you were gonna quit. And you’re drinking right now. So obviously it doesn’t matter what I think at all – you’re just gonna do what you want. So smoke, drink, do whatever. It doesn’t matter what I think.
Yes, it does matter what you think!
No, it obviously doesn’t! Or you would have quit!
I stood up and walked across the room.
Look, I already told you. I made a deal with myself that if I acted like that again, I was gonna end things. And I don’t want to do that, so I’m not gonna let myself get like that again.
And I’m supposed to just wait around and see if you do or don’t?
No, I want you to trust me.
I stood silently, gathering my words correctly.
Well…I don’t think I can trust you.
I just don’t think it’s a big deal!
Okay. Whatever. I’m gonna go upstairs and put my sweatpants on.
Are you serious?
Yes. I don’t feel good.
Okay…
I walked out of the room and went upstairs. I pulled gray pants out of my bag and changed clothes. She came up a few minutes later. I sat on the edge of the bed. She walked in.
I just want you to see where I’m coming from.
I do see where you’re coming from. I really do. I think you don’t understand where I’m coming from.
I just want you to trust me. It hurts me that you don’t. And I made myself that promise and I’m not going to let it happen again, or we’re done.
I lay back on the bed and covered my face with my hands.
I think you’d rather be at your mom’s right now. I don’t think you want to be here.
Why do you say that?
She walked out of the room.
I knew it was over.
I was unsure what to do next. I could leave. It was getting late, and was another hour and a half to Connecticut. I could stay, and just sweep it all under the rug, and end it in the morning. Ending it now would make it a difficult night’s sleep.
She walked back in a few minutes later.
Hey, are you mad at me?
Why would I be mad?
I just don’t want you to be mad.
I’m fine.
Do you wanna watch TV?
Yeah.
She sat on the bed beside me, and put her arms around me. We fumbled with the three different remotes until the television came on. I picked a show on Comedy Central, Demetri Martin. I watched and giggled.
This guy’s a fucking tool.
I think he’s funny.
Girls probably think he’s hot and wanna fuck him but he’s got ugly hair and he’s a stupid piece of shit. Sarah Silverman is better.
Okay, then change it.
No, whatever. We’ll just watch this.
But you apparently hate it. So change it.
I put the remote on her lap. She put it back on mine.
No, I don’t care. We can watch this.
I picked up the remote and changed the channel to Food Network. Alton Brown’s show.
Ugh, this guy sucks.
But you liked him when we watched that show a couple months ago.
Whatever.
Okay, fine. Pick whatever you want.
We can put it back to Comedy Central.
No, you hated it.
I was just joking.
Well, I don’t wanna watch it anymore.
Why?
You ruined it, I thought.
It’s cool. Watch whatever you want.
I closed my eyes.
Are you sleeping?
I’m resting. What’s up?
I just wanna talk to you.
What about?
I dunno. I just want you to be cute like you usually are.
Okay…well, we were just talking a lot earlier and things were weird, so I was hoping we could just lie here and chill and watch TV and be quiet.
I just wanna talk to you for a little while, but you don’t wanna talk to me.
No, it’s not that. I just need to chill out for a bit.
Can you just talk to me?
About what?
Just tell me what’s going on.
I lay on the bed quietly, gathering my words correctly.
Just tell me. You don’t love me anymore, do you?
I do love you. It’s just…things have…changed.
Since when?
The last week or so.
Yeah, I know this week was weird. I was pushing you away because I thought you were being weird.
I know.
Is it about the drinking thing?
Well, that didn’t help.
Because if that’s what caused this, I’ll never forgive myself. This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. Shit.
It’s not your fault. You were great. You were so great to me.
You only thought you loved me because I’m so nice.
No. All the things I said were real.
Halloween was, like, the best memory I ever had.
I know. Me too. It was real. I promise.
We both started to cry. I put my head on her shoulder, my arm across her stomach. Tears rolled off my cheeks, and she wiped them away.
Shit. Who’s gonna take you to the airport?
I dunno. I guess I’ll just call a cab.
Ugh, dammit. What about P-Town? I already paid the deposit on the condo.
I dunno. You can take someone else.
But I only wanted to go with you.
Well, maybe you’ll be dating someone else by then.
I’m not gonna be dating anyone for a long time. I don’t want anyone but you. And even if I’m messing around with someone, I don’t wanna spend all that money on them. I only wanna go with you.
Well, maybe we can be friends by then.
Maybe. How long were you gonna wait to tell me all this?
Another week or so. I really wanted things to work out. I did. I just knew something was wrong. And I waited because I didn’t want it to be true. I didn’t. I really, really didn’t. But there was just something wrong. And I’m so sorry. I hate that I hurt you.
I’m not gonna stop loving you. Just know that.
She sighed.
Maybe in another life, she said.
Yeah. Maybe.

Over Now…?

I forgot how bitter I can be. I’ve been happy for a while – being with my girlfriend, doing the school and work thing. Now it seems I may be alone again in the very near future. I’m panicking, more than I thought.

Maybe things are okay, and this is just a lesson to teach me to appreciate things more. Or perhaps I’m on the precipice of Singledom again. And although it’s what I thought I wanted, maybe I was wrong.

Or maybe I’m just panicking because I haven’t had a big change in a while. I got into this thing so smoothly, so easily. There is no way I’d get out of it the same way.

I don’t know how to calm my nerves, until it becomes clear what is going to happen. And goddammit, Pandora – quit playing Alice in Chain’s “Over Now.” You’re not helping.

I’ll pay my debt sometime.

Retro.

I so miss the mid-90s. I watched “Clueless” yesterday. Before that, “Ghost.” Tonight, Oasis is pulsing through my tiny laptop speakers, fueled by my 90s/alternative/grunge rock station on Pandora. I wish I had been older then, and really appreciated all the tastes and sounds and smells of the 90s. All the teen spirit. I was too young and geeky. I am unimpressed with 2010 so far, pop culturally anyway. I do love the Gaga, but other than that…the music is sorely lacking soul. And no one can convince me that Peal Jam, STP, Alice in Chains or any of the other grunge rockers lacked soul. It’s all soul with them. It’s all pain – drugs and other self-injurious behaviors [throwing in a psych term for good measure]. When I was at a 6th grade dance [in 1994], the DJ played The Offspring ["Self-Esteem"] and Green Day ["Basket Case"]. I was still busy worshipping the adult contemporary soft rock chart, with Mariah Carey & Ace of Base. I wish I had found my soul back then, at 13. It took me until I was about 20 to really discover all I had missed in the 90s. Now that I’m 26, I feel like my musical tastes are anachronistic. I belong in another time. And watching those throw-back movies of another, simpler time – before 9/11, before the Internet, before the Second Bush…it all makes me wistful for a time I experienced differently, and the desire to change who I was. But I can’t, and I guess that’s the lesson. I didn’t appreciate that world then, but I do now. I am who I am now because of who I was [and who I wasn't] then. And there’s nothing wrong with that.

Surgery.

It’s like a surgery, I guess. There’s this big, lumpy tumor, and if the doctors don’t cut it off, you’ll die. It’ll just grow bigger. It’ll eat away your insides. But if you let it go, then you can’t hold on to it anymore. Sounds sick. But sometimes if you’ve only got the pain to hold, at least that’s something. Something is better than nothing.

Then after awhile, it’s all you think about. The tumor. And the pain. And everything and everyone does things that just make the tumor bigger. Until it does eat away your insides. But who can you blame? You let those things they said get inside, feed the tumor. You could have done something else, said something else. “He could have said anything but that.” Is that true? No, because you’d let anything inside. Everything is wrong. Feed the tumor. He didn’t invite you to the party. Feed the tumor. She blamed you for something unfairly. Feed the tumor. He wrote you a mean email, for no reason. Feed the tumor. And all the while, the one person who fed the tumor first isn’t even around anymore – you cut him off, thinking the tumor would also get cut off. It’s not that simple. The tumor still grew with every day, every bad thing you ever felt. And the tumor slowly rotted your insides until you were nothing left but a little ball of pain. Almost dead. You’d cry. You’d sob to her, and she’d be there for you, wanting to help, and unable. You can’t go on like this.

So you spoke up. You said what you always wanted to say – what took you almost four years to say. You did it for yourself, to heal. And he responded.

And that tiny shred of hope glimmered.

It made you want to go under the knife. Stop feeding the tumor. Get surgery, and get better. Get chemo, even. Purge.

Then the list of feedings comes rolling. Others who fed the tumor. The memories. And for the first time, you want to let go of all of them. Every. Single. One. You now have to recount them all, and forgive the hurt. Forgive yourself. But now you can breathe. You cry. It’s painful. You loosen your grip. Then, one day, you let go.

Forgiveness. It’s like a surgery, I guess.

The Truth.

So, I’e been doing a lot of soul-searching lately. This might come as a shock, but…

I think I’m gay.

I say “think” because it softens the “I’m gay” part of that statement. But I’m pretty sure about this.

There were signs. Many, many signs. But, naively, I convinced myself that most other – if not all – straight women fantasize about having sex with their hot female classmates, too. Or that being turned on by thinking of two women together [as opposed to a man and a woman] was completely normal. Or that even saying, “I could date a woman. I could probably go down on a woman. I don’t see a problem with this,” is something that other heterosexual women say. Or that whole “I have a girlfriend” thing doesn’t really make me gay. [But it really kinda does.]

Yeah…delusional much?

It’s just interesting that it took a chance meeting at a lesbian club and R’s presence in my life to help me put all the pieces together. And it’s even more interesting that while I was very okay with admitting I have a girlfriend, it’s quite…scary…saying all this now. But it’s how I feel. Being in a relationship with a woman is so much more fulfilling to me than any guy I’ve been with – or any guy I could ever be with.

So that’s it.

The Third Date.

Michael: In my opinion the third date is traditionally the one where you have sex. Does Holly feel that way? I don’t know. I will probably find out tonight. If she starts having sex with me I’ll know for sure.

Ah, the elusive third date. I’m trying to recall all the third dates I’ve had – and how they ended. As many of my regular readers [and real life friends] know, in my past dating exploits, I rarely got to the third date.

Actually, I think I only had proper third date sex once.

It was B, a guy I worked with – and the first guy I hooked up with after The Ex and I broke up. Though the first time we went out, it was just to a bar. The second time, he came over, spent the night, and we hung out all the next day. Twenty-four hours in total. That was a mega-date. Then the third time we hung out, he came over after work, and spent the night. It culminated in sex. He never called me to go out again, and five months later, I heard he got married.

Only one other guy I had sex with took me on a date. That was D. We met at Fenway. And even then, like with B, they were those borderline dates. We had sex on our second date. I awkwardly cried in bed before we went to sleep. He held me. I don’t remember why, but he was sweet. We had sex the next morning. He never called me to go out again, but I see him around the Park from time to time.

The other seven guys I had sex with were all drunken one-night stands. Two of the guys I was friends/acquaintances with before, but don’t really talk to now. Another guy lives in my neighborhood. He saw me with my girlfriend recently. He kissed her hand, said, “Hello, Gorgeous” and awkwardly walked away. The rest I am okay with never talking to again. Except one: he lives in Ireland. I still talk to him. He and I actually had sex two separate times [the only repeat performance], and I thought I was kind of in love with him. I even sort of proposed on our way to the train station. He accepted, too. So I think I might be engaged. If he lived here, and I didn’t have my girl, I might try to make something happen with him. He was the best sex with a guy I ever had.

On the other hand, there were several guys I went out with more than three times that I never had sex with. A couple last year, and more before I dated The Ex. The only reason I can think is that I just really wasn’t attracted to them. And maybe I really just wasn’t attracted to guys in general. When my girlfriend came back to my apartment after our first date, we made out. We hooked up the second night. I was very attracted to her. And even though at first it was awkward, and I wasn’t sure if she crazy or not, I liked her.

We’ve been together for almost 4 months. I can’t remember if we had sex on our third date. But you know…I don’t think it matters.

Laws. And gays. And gay laws.

Why are issues about sexual orientation laws put to a vote, yet laws about rights for other minority groups are decided by the Supreme Court?

A brief and very incomplete timeline of important laws and court rulings:

- The Nineteenth Amendment to the Constitution (1920): No one shall be denied the right to vote based on sex. Landmark case for women’s suffrage and rights movement.

- Brown v. Topeka Board of Education (1954): in a 9-0 ruling, the Supreme Court decided that “separate educational facilities are inherently unequal.” Landmark case for the Civil Rights Movement.

- Loving v. Virginia (1967): in a 9-0 vote, the Supreme Court overruled prior laws banning interracial marriage.

- Turner v. Safley (1987): prisoners have the right to marry. [Needless to say, in many states convicted felons lose their rights to vote for a period of time after their release from prison - and in Kentucky and Virginia, felons are denied the right to vote permanently.]

- Defense of Marriage Act (1996), Public Law No. 104-199, 110 Stat. 2419:
No state (or other political subdivision within the United States) needs to treat a relationship between persons of the same sex as a marriage, even if the relationship is considered a marriage in another state. The federal government defines marriage as a legal union exclusively between one man and one woman.

- Lawrence v. Texas (2003): sodomy is no longer illegal.

- Goodridge vs. Dept. of Health (2004): The Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court found that the state may not “deny the protections, benefits and obligations conferred by civil marriage to two individuals of the same sex who wish to marry.” Chief Justice Margaret Marshall, writing for the majority, wrote that the state’s constitution “affirms the dignity and equality of all individuals. It forbids the creation of second-class citizens,” the state had no “constitutionally adequate reason for denying marriage to same-sex couples,” and “The right to marry is not a privilege conferred by the State, but a fundamental right that is protected against unwarranted State interference.” On the legal aspect, instead of creating a new fundamental right to marry, or more accurately the right to choose to marry, the Court held that the State does not have a rational basis to deny same-sex couples marriage on the ground of due process and equal protection.

Some countries with constitutional bans on gay marriage:
-Bulgaria
-Ukraine
-Democratic Republic of Congo
-Uganda
-Honduras
-Bolivia
-Paraguay
-Latvia

Countries that allow gay marriage:
-The Netherlands (2001): first country to legalize same-sex marriage
-Canada (2003)
-Belgium (2003)
-Spain (2005)
-South Africa (2006)
-Israel [foreign same-sex marriages recognized]
-Nepal [will be in new draft of constitution, as ordered by Supreme Court]
-Norway (2009)
-Sweden (2009)

Wouldn’t we – the US of A – rather be like Spain than Uganda? Like The Netherlands, and not like Latvia? Who even knows where Latvia is?? I do, but that’s not the point.

So why was Question 1 in Maine even raised? In May 2009, the Maine House and Senate passed the bill called “An Act To End Discrimination in Civil Marriage and Affirm Religious Freedom” and Governor Baldacci signed it into law. Then some groups, who felt threatened by gays being able to marry, petitioned to have the law repealed. It went to a vote, as Question 1 – as part of the checks-and-balance system of government we have. And the voters of Maine said, “Nope, we don’t want that extra 60 million dollars of revenue from your glitzy gay weddings, or thousand new jobs. Spend that homo money in Mass, you fag.”

What. The. Fuck.

Final thoughts:
If you don’t believe in gay marriage, then don’t get one and shut the fuck up.
I’m tired of hearing biblical arguments about this issue. 1) I don’t believe in the bible. 2) Marriage is a civil contract. 3) Is Britney Spears’ quickie marriage [and subsequent quickie divorce] really the kind of “sanctity of marriage” you want to uphold?

I sure as shit don’t.