Saturday, February 25, 2012


I'm starting to believe that "forever" doesn't exist. When I think back on all of the impermanent people and things, I start to fear that everything that I know right now is going to be the same. I will lose touch with people or just lose them. The entire scene will change over and over again. This may not sound like news to a lot of people, but something about it hits me in a way it never has before. It most likely has something to do with my going home for a few weeks. I know it's what I need right now, but that doesn't mean I'm not afraid. I'm afraid because I'm already feeling kind of alone where I am. I don't like this disconnected feeling that I keep having, but it's only in certain places that it happens. It's unfortunate that it has to be in my own home.

I picked up a letter that I had written several months ago. I knew exactly which angry letter it was. I didn't open it. I just tore it up and threw it away. It didn't matter anymore. Angry letters rarely do.

My mood is basically a heavy sigh. My current song is my nationals mix because that's one of the only things I can think about with just over a week to go and so much work to be done.

I don't know what else. I can't focus enough on writing. Balls.

Friday, February 24, 2012

Love and Marriage

There's nothing like a three-mile, three in the morning walk to get the gears turning. The strange part is that the most striking revelation occurred to me just as I sat down to type about something else. But I suppose they are pretty related topics, now that I think about it.
In the past two days, I've congratulated two friends on their recent engagements, and in the past two years or so--thanks to the extreme level of creepability made possible by Facebook--I've watched people from my past grow up, tie the knot, and even have kids of their own. I have so many feelings that extend in different directions when I think about the idea of starting a family, including the events leading up to and following that decision.

So what was my revelation?

I have a deeply-rooted desire to be a provider. How to go about that was easy in my previous relationship because, even though we were both queer as all hell, we both had this nostalgic sort of fancy for inflicting our queerness on accepted institutions and traditions. It was easy to be a provider in that kind of framework because society already has this nice little blueprint for boys who date girls. Finding ways to express your love in ways that the other person (and those around you) can understand didn't seem that difficult.

But I'm in some new territory now. I love my boyfriend, and we've been together for what probably amounts to a few years in "gay time". In reality, it's been about 8 months. But when I start to think about the future, I get stuck. Who's proposing to whom? Who is taking care of whom? It seems sort of ridiculous that these are the things that get to me, but I'm big on needing an avenue through which I can express my love for another person. And being in that position is the best way that I know how. It's empowering and feels the most natural. What is killing me about my life right now is not that I am completely useless or worthless in general. I know I've said those things before, but I think it has more to do with my ability to be the type of person I want to be. I know the role that I desire, but I am so far removed from it that it is creating this ridiculous conflict in me. I'm dependent on other people for so much right now. And I can't stand it. I never could. Even when I was younger, I always preferred to take charge of my own affairs, etc.

I want to be able to just swing by and pick him up to take him somewhere special. I want to be the one to get down on my knee and make him cry when he sees what I have for him (what the hell do you get a guy for an engagement anyway?! stupid heteronormative protocol). I want to plan trips and go places. I want to be a solid foundation. And I might be simultaneously closer to and further from that state than ever before. I'm at a point whose equivalent is having a word on the tip of your tongue. I can taste it, but I fear that I might be hallucinating.

It's been on my mind. There are things I miss about being in a relationship with a girl, but it's not like I would trade my boyfriend in for anyone in the world right now. It's just that I miss how EASY it was. This is my tale of the loss of the privilege that comes with assumed heterosexuality. Or even of assumed behavior, for even in gay relationships we tend to cast each partner as more like this gender or more like that, trying to fit them into a heteronormative framework. My relationship is nothing like that. I miss the ease of expression, the ease of being carefree in public, the ease of understanding the expressions of love by the other person, etc. It was convenient, and no explanation was required.

But I would not sacrifice my love for the sake of convenience. It's just interesting. We're building our own framework--our own language of love that must necessarily go beyond diamond rings and flowers and little black dresses. It's hard. Sometimes the signals don't quite come across. Sometimes things are confusing, and it's hard to know how to feel when you can't find a way to get even the simplest emotion out of you. There are no rules, and we're making them up as we go along. Thank God it's like using pencil. There are actually very few things in life written in Sharpie, and even some rubbing alcohol can help in a few circumstances. (I guess it's also fucked-up analogy day.)

In thinking about all of this, I wonder how things would be if every couple decided to break out of this framework. You'd really have to get to know the other person to find out the best ways to express your love instead of, for example, just buying your girlfriend flowers because you know that girls like it because that's what guys are supposed to do, etc. If you weren't placed into a role from the minute someone asked you out, which would you choose? How would you go about finding that role for yourself and helping your partner find their own? It seems so freeing...and so idealistic. People like the established framework because it's easy. It's an easy way out of trying to make connections beyond the surface level. Just some food for thought that I'm probably going to revisit later, especially with the genderqueer group.

On a related note about privilege...I do indeed recognize the privilege of being able to marry my partner tomorrow if I wanted to. There is that little air of guilt about all of it, but it's not a guilt that makes me angry towards other people for making me feel that way. Recognizing privilege isn't about feeling guilty, as many of my white cis-male friends have commented in the past few months. It's about awareness. It's about stopping and thinking about the systems we have in place and about your place and actions within those systems. It's about taking the awareness you have and using your privilege in a way that helps those without that same privilege. You can be a voice for someone else. You can make other people with your same privilege understand and continue to spread knowledge and awareness. Shame, guilt, anger...This isn't part of it at all. Those things aren't intended, but they are common first responses to feeling threatened. In many cases, privilege is something you're born with. You shouldn't feel guilty about something you can't change. But now that you have this awareness of the powers afforded to you by your privilege, what are you going to do? That's the critical part of this whole movement. What are you going to do now that you can't ignore it? I think that's enough political ranting for now, but I appreciate any comments you might have.

This is completely off topic, but it just hit me as I started looking around my room at all the things that I have to pack away yet again. Each time I move, I have to decide if something from my past is important enough to be a part of my future, but that's a topic for another post entirely. In my ongoing apartment search, I've been looking for the perfect place. I desperately want to have a place that is at least semi-permanent. I want it to be just right. But I know that's probably not going to happen, and I know I will consider it another crushing failure to accomplish even the most minor of my life goals.

I'm suddenly reminded of how helpful Livejournal was with having current song and current mood options to go along with your posts. I think I might just start doing that again. I suppose my current song would have to be the one that played before I walked in the door: Just a Dream. Current mood: Melancholy.

Dylan out.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012


I can't seem to stress enough how little I expected to be where I am now. I've known that much for a while now. The word hit me the other day, not so subtly. Grief. I'm grieving over the loss of those dreams I used to have--over the loss of the future I was "supposed to" have. I remember saying once or twice before that I had this feeling that I would never make it to the destination I had in mind. That's proven itself true. Not only that, but I also have no idea where I'm going.

I cry when I think about the fact that something as basic as mouthwash has become a luxury item. That's just one easily visualized example.

It's extremely difficult to focus on your future when you can barely keep your head above water in the present.

I keep wondering where I went wrong. I cringe at the thought of this becoming my forever. I love my life and so much of what it has become, but I desperately want to believe that there is more out there for me. There's just some part of me that feels unfulfilled, and I don't know how I'm supposed to resolve that conflict.

I've reached the bottom of the barrel out here. I have to leave my current residence in a few weeks, and with no money and nowhere else to go, I have no other choice but to go back to my parents' house. I swore that I'd never go back. I keep saying that it's only temporary and that I won't be there longer than a month, but I'm terrified that that won't be true. I'm afraid of losing what little I have left. And I know this much: I'm going to be terribly alone the entire time I'm out there. I haven't even left yet, and it already hurts.

Maybe what hurts is that I have no sense of home. I have no routine. Every day is completely unpredictable. I don't want to live day-to-day. I want to live for something bigger. I want more, but I don't know where it's coming from or how to get it.

I want to cry right now because there is this air of hopelessness that surrounds the whole situation. I don't see a light at the end of this tunnel. And I'm charging forward into the darkness at times, while at others I'm just standing there, terrified to move forward because I don't want that to be all there is. I'd rather just imagine a light on the other side than go on forever searching for something that isn't there.

I feel like I've been getting better. But I get hit with things like this from time to time. It feels so rational, and that's what scares me. I can't dismiss this because of my depression because of how logical it all seems.

I just want something familiar. All of this shit I'm going through right now is so foreign to me. I want my old friends, my old conversations, my old sense of purpose. I feel that fire sometimes, but it comes and goes.

And there's another part of me that's afraid that I'm going to be this screwed up forever--that this is what my normal is. I keep feeling like something's not fair, but again, I don't know what it is.

I am learning to take one day at a time, and I can manage that pretty well. But I just want to have the luxury of not having to do that. I want to be able to plan ahead. I want to be able to have goals again. I want and need a direction.

These things seem so simple in my head, and I wonder why it all hurts so much.


Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Well, Shit

That moment of realization when it hits you that you might actually be REALLY sick, after having symptoms for six months.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012


Three days at PIC. I've never been fired so quickly, and the whole reasoning upset me. I'm doing my best not to feel like an incompetent loser right now, and I think that's working mostly because I am motivated by my need for financial resources. I'll just keep writing, looking for grants, and hope that I can make this a full-time job. I've never felt like this with a job before, and I think that might mean something. Here we go again with this thinking about my life business.