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Gay

Best of Times, Worst of Times

Manhunt Date No. 10.   With the end of this gruesome chapter in sight I decided to meet with someone from the internet and have sex.

He arrived on time.  A beautiful black man from Culver City.  I undressed him.  I fucked him.  Everything worked.  Everything just worked.

He left.

I realized that if there was to be any sort of lasting legacy from the past year…then that was it.  The confidence to meet a stranger and have meaningless sex.

I didn’t even want to know his name.  This was an exercise in futility.

Of course, this is not what I want.  I am merely retraumatizing myself.

I learned to connect sexually and emotionally with JB and perhaps one day I will indeed be able to have what I had (passionate, present, emotional) with someone else.  When will I be ready?   At this moment, thankfully I am no longer consumed with hatred, my visceral resentments no longer regurgitating all over everyone around me.

More happened yesterday than meaningless sex.

I had the second interview for what may well mean that I make another film.

I am thrilled about this.

I have been holding on to this idea of an end.   Now it is mine.  I remember when JBC and I were effectively divorcing and going to court and winning..it didn’t feel particularly like winning..winning but not feeling like a winner.  I would end up giving him half a million dollars because it was the right thing to do.

It’s over!  As I write those words a huge sigh makes its way from the very heart of me.  From my heart.

I want to remember that I cared very deeply for him.  Today I want to detach with love.  It is my simple goal and always has been..we tried before, knowing that our love was compelling and destructive.  It’s not like we didn’t know!  Every time we thought it was the end and attempted to let go honourably…we obviously needed to keep going..because we did.

A few days of silence then one of us would send a random text or Facebook message then we would Skype and we would get sexual and then everything bubbled to the surface..all over.  No more.  I am so happy that we will never meet again.

So happy that he resides in my past.

You think I miss him?  No, I don’t.  But I will keep sacred what I have loved whether it is a man or a moment or a beautiful view.  Isn’t that what life is all about?

Of course I am saddened that we didn’t resolve all of this sooner but hey, that’s the way it was meant to be and there’s nothing I can do about it.

This couldn’t and wouldn’t have happened without the intervention of one nameless man, and as you can imagine there are things that I am not writing because I am honoring this man who is doing the best for his family.  I am honouring him because he endured a great deal through no fault of his own.

Wow, I have just been reading my past couple of months blogs.  Such venom!

Finally, late last night I was shaken out of a long, bad dream.   I feel normal again but Christ where was I?  Who was I?  Don’t fuck with the Bad Baby!  That baby can hold a RESENTMENT!

This is the first time since January that I feel like myself.

Elsie hasn’t been singing for some considerable time.  Now she sings!  The fat lady sings!  Look at that, blog after blog..day after day..the screaming baby, the very bad, Bad Baby.

Months of vitriol spewing over just one person.  Mostly me.  It’s enough to rot your soul.

Thankfully common sense has prevailed and we can put our eviscerating tools back into their hessian sack.    Thank you, thank you, thank you.

It is time to look back fondly rather than bristling with hate.  Before I could not remember even one moment of what was good.   Remember what was beautiful and move on.

Elsie is singing Master and Servant.

Oh yes!  I didn’t comment on the “It Gets Better!” campaign.  What a load of old SHITE.  Tell me how it gets better?  Let me know.  I have huge problems with Dan Savage and will write more about him in the future.