Tag: New York City

Categories
Rant

Please Like Me? Please?

I sat in my therapy group this morning at 7.30am.  A gay man in his early thirties shared his addiction story (drugs and alcohol).  He caught my attention when he said that he didn’t come out until very recently because he wanted people to like him and he feared that if he told those he knew that he was gay they wouldn’t.

Pathetic.

If I had heard his story a year ago I might very well have sympathized with him but I sat there remembering that this was Jake’s rationale for not coming out until the end of his twenties.

The desire to be liked has never really interested me, being disliked is far more rewarding, one always knows exactly where one stands.   Yet, I think that this desire to be liked may be how a great number of people think.  It seems imperative that they are liked even if they have to live a total lie.

To be liked?  It seems so desperate.  I guess that pathetic JB is getting a whole lot of sympathy from family and friends but especially from susceptible gay men as he miserably tells his tragic story.

Poor Jake knew that he was gay when he was 15 years old, brought up by kindly, understanding liberal parents (why didn’t he tell them?) went to Ithaca University upstate New York (I know out gay men who were his contemporaries) couldn’t come out at Uni apparently because it was a macho uni..he told me that if he had gone to NYU he would have come out earlier….blah blah blah. He then decided to work in the film industry which, as you imagine, is sooooo homophobic.  Couldn’t wouldn’t tell a fucking soul…OH..WAIT…he did tell a soul..he told all the men he was fucking because an ‘on the down low’ gay guy is MUCH sexier to fucked up gay men than just a regular gay guy.  He learned that very quickly.

When he finally came clean, came out, thrown out of his East Village porn performance pad he was GENUINELY disturbed that her friends, their neighbours didn’t see it his way.  Where was the fucking sympathy? Where’s MY SYMPATHY!!!

Even though she tried extracting the truth he STILL couldn’t tell her everything.   He continued lying to her even though she gave him ample opportunity to tell her the truth.

Listen, I sit in those therapy rooms listening to men who get caught cheating every single day.  How pathetic they become when their world of lies and intrigue is blown apart.  It is almost FUNNY how wronged some of them think they are.

I sat in that room this morning loathing that stranger telling his story.

Poor guy, he wanted to be liked so he lied to everyone including his parents and his girlfriend etc.  It was horribly familiar.

Fuck you lying addict gay guy.  This arrogant raconteur, this self-obsessed, manipulative, entitled asshole.  I was just amazed that in this day and age he expected us to feel sorry for him.  In 2010 are we still feeling sorry for people who want to be liked so much that they pathologically lie to the whole world?

Jake lied and lied and lied.  He took risks with his own and his girlfriend’s health.  He set aside his career and his ambition, and when he finally came clean blamed his ex gf for ruining his life because she threw him out of the house.

Want to know something even more damning?  He urged me to see it his way.

Most gay men would…but I didn’t.  For all of you, like Tres Triste, who want to blame me for his misery just give a thought to how I bullied him into telling that poor girl the truth.  Yes, I bullied him into it…because what he was doing to her was cruel and dangerous and one day she will thank me because he would have married her.

Think about HER.

Those of us who bravely told the truth when we were young about our sexuality were made to pay the price.

Before this morning I really hadn’t given Jake much thought.  I don’t bother imagining his life now because it doesn’t take much imagination to figue out exactly what’s going on.  Jake is an addict and his life’s trajectory is obvious to any of one of us who identify as addicts.

The asshole who commented that I was dragging Jake into my fucked up world forgot, it seems, that Jake in fact dragged me into his fucked up world.  A world of lies, deceit, false promises and a desire to be liked at all costs.

That pretty girl squandered her twenties (as well as finding true love) on him, she should sue the nasty little liar for what he stole from her..because it can never, ever be replaced.

Thankfully the $2,000 that he owes me can and will be replaced.

Can you imagine waking up on the eve of your thirties expecting to marry the man of your dreams only to find out that every moment of every day you shared with him was a total lie?

Apparently it was her fault for not realizing that he was a lying.   After all, he didn’t have any interest in sports.  At the end of October that poor girl has to move out of her home, has to find somewhere else to live.  Just because he wanted to be liked at all costs.

The gays will love him.  They’ll understand.  As long as he’s cute and puts out and doesn’t have any emotions.  Oh yes, he’ll fit in with the mediocre, middle of the road, bourgeoise gays..just fine.

It’s still fucking hot here in Malibu.  90somethingdegrees.  I feel a bit tense.  I feel a bit miserable.  I feel a bit powerless..hence I end up blogging about Jake.  Somehow blogging about him makes me feel better.

Finally, the guy who shared this morning told us that he is HIV positive because he was taking meth.  Oh GAYS!  The gays don’t seem to think about condoms when they are high on meth which is great for the drug companies because every expendable gay with HIV is worth $3,000,000 to big pharma.

Categories
Hollywood Malibu

Manhunt Date No. 6

The Manhunt assignation is proving more interesting than not.  For others it seems mostly about sex but for me it’s all about the people one can meet, the stories they tell and the places they take you.

This evening I met a young man right at very end of Wilshire Blvd at Takami, a rather grand sushi bar on the 21st floor of a building overlooking LA’s great success story:  Down Town.

In all of LA this is the most like a recognisable big city, complete with tall buildings, pedestrians, store fronts and a huge film crew shooting LA for NYC.

All the lights in all of the high rises seem to be left on all night to delight people like me hankering for a world city.   The city streets teaming with city people.  I can quite understand why so many young people want to live there.

I rather wish I did..but by November I will be in a real big city.

The young man I met this evening was a deaf, thirty-year-old graphic designer from Mexico City.  He asked for a seat in a quieter part of the restaurant.  The hostess put us under a speaker blaring very loud music.  When I asked to be moved she looked at me pityingly and told me that this was the ‘brightest part of the restaurant’  I snapped back that he was deaf not blind.  He was delighted.  She was not.

Dinner wasn’t nearly as challenging as it threatened to be until the internet date told me that six years ago he was kidnapped.

Well, if someone tells you that they have been kidnapped you might want to know why and how.  I asked a few careful questions but apparently that was the wrong thing to do as he promptly burst into tears.

We left the expensive lobster rolls uneaten.

He very kindly paid for dinner.  Phew.

As he tearfully relived the details of his kidnapping my mind wandered.  I looked out over the city scape and thought about how intriguing this internet connecting phenomena is.  I mean, I wouldn’t usually get to meet half the men I meet on-line and the best thing is I never have to meet them again.

Could you imagine how fruitful it would be if I liked having sex with strangers?

After dinner we wandered the streets and then I drove 30 miles home.

Good to get home.

What else happened today?  Walked the dogs down to the sea.  Returned emails and calls.  Met Frank over at SHLA, Frank is a darling.   Spent an hour or so at the Hollywood house and packed more stuff in the car.

Slowly, slowly making progress with the move.  So much kitchen stuff.  Christ, can I chuck it out?  This evening I will get on my knees and pray:  Please God..let me have the strength to chuck this junk.

The mouse in the house is not dead despite poison and traps.

By the way…have not looked in the mirror recently and enjoyed what I have seen but today I did.  It’s as if the corner really has been turned.

Must buy shoe trees.  My shoes all look crushed after the move.

Categories
Death Gay

Recognized

Returning to LA I was recognized on the plane.  I felt like saying that I was NOTHING like the man they thought they knew.   I felt like telling him that as much as I would like to be the compassionate, helpful man he met on the TV I am not that guy.

I was almost rude.

Instead I smiled sweetly and let him believe in the man who had obviously helped him by sharing my story.

Why should I burst his bubble?  I did not take his number.  He so obviously wanted to be my friend.  I can’t be your friend.

I tried that and now look.

I sat next to a girl who is going to be on a reality show that prems next week.  I told her, WARNED her..that under no circumstance date ANYONE who knows her from TV.   Avoid!

I told her my sorry story.  She looked aghast.

I have been dreaming very vivid dreams.

I dreamt that I was at the back of a church watching Jake get married to a man.  He was wearing a white suit.  He looked sooo happy.  In the dream..I was happy for him.  Then I woke up.  I wasn’t so happy.

I went to therapy this morning at 7am.  It was very helpful.  I listened intently to the men in that room and found solace.

There are things I need to do to make it all better.  Help others rather than myself for instance.  Concentrate on positive thoughts.

I bought a mouse trap.

Wish I hadn’t looked at that picture of Jake.   He looked happy.  He looked like he was having a blast.  I am now merely the wreckage of his past.  He plunders my life and just behaves like it’s party time.  It galls me so.

Yet, have I treated others like that?  I think I might have.  That was coy.  OF COURSE I HAVE.

Categories
Death

LAX

Flying back to LA.

That was quite a chore!

Now, all I have to do is pack up remaining items and move out of LA.  Then it’s the dog orientated trip home flying via Paris to London.

There I will have my operation and hope that it hasn’t spread.

You know that I like to tell you the truth here on these pages.  Well,  I want to share that I found being in NYC really miserable.  Why?  I was anxious that I might bump into him even though I had texted him telling him that I would be there and to avoid where I live and SHNYC.

Even so, I felt terrible and dreaded dread dreaded bumping into him.

I dread the small claims case in October too.  I dread seeing him.  I wish that these painful feelings would just go away.  I wish he had never contacted me.  Why did he fucking contact me?

Manhunt date number 3 was good fun.

A giant of a man turned up…it turned out that we had friends in common.  We talked about Jake.

It’s funny that even though he had been through a similar experience with a man his immediate response was to chastise me for getting involved with someone who was BLATANTLY unready to be gotten involved with.

Yet, as I have found out..we ALL seem to make really bad choices in love.  My straight men friends routinely describe the females they get involved with as insane.  The women I know describe the men they get involved with as douche bags.  People make mistakes in love.

It is very hard to control a yearning heart.

I am just so angry with myself that, a. I believed him.  b. fell in love.  c. took him home.

Why the hell didn’t he tell his friends that he was gay rather than me?  Why?  Somehow my TV confession spurred him on to confess..yet, as I pointed out to manhunt date number 3..I am NOT a TV character..I am a man.  I am profoundly UNLIKE the way they edited me on TV.

This is ripping me apart.  It is just so unfair that I let some crazy fan into my life who wanted me to be like I was on TV and I…fucking IDIOT..fell in love with him.

I was on Dan’s lap top today checking a friend’s Facebook page and there he was making some Camille Paglia comment.   His new profile picture was weird.  Mugs and fruit.  His hair was all flat and he looked thin.

I know that sooner or later this mess will pass.  That I will start to forget.

You may think me mad but really what you are reading is the real and daily trial of being an addict.  That I can have all at the same time huge compassion for him and a consummate loathing.

There was a moment is Sanary sur Mer in France where he was sitting at the end of a jetty looking at the sunset.  I slipped quietly away.  He was thinking about her.  He was sad.

Thankfully there is still one sacred place I didn’t take him.  It remains mine.  Unseen by crazy fan eyes.

I pray every day for the obsession to be lifted but I guess it will vanish in God’s time and not mine.

Categories
Gay

East Village!

Veselka, 9th St.  East Village.  NYC

Leon drove me and the art to LAX.  The little dog loves his traveling bag and climbed into it willingly.

The flight arrived 55 minutes early at JFK.   5am.  I was knackered.  We dragged the art onto a trolley and into a cab then dropped it off at Phillips.  I stayed there for an hour drinking coffee and ate a pain au chocolat.   I sat on my own reading The Times waiting for Dan to wake up so I could drag my sorry ass over to the East Village.  Finally we just walked from 9th Ave.  It was so GOOD to be back in NYC…after the operation I will be here full-time.

The Little Dog was determined to explore Tompkins Square Park so I acquiesced and he got his wish and stared at squirrels for an hour until I just had to go home and rest.

By 10 I dropped off art at the auctioneer.  Very cute lighting man to gawp at prepping a fashion week party.  The whole area around Meat Packing ALIVE with fashion week events.  Bumped into my friend Liz who invited me to Mulberry party.

Took cab back home and slept until 3 when I met the first of my Manhunt dates.  Date 1.  Nice guy, did not misrepresented himself in any way.  Charming. If I had been JB I would have had sex with him but I am not JB so we had coffee and went for a long walk around the East Village.  Not much eye contact but I think that might have been my fault.

At 6ish I went home and took more of a nap.  Dan arrived at 7.30 and we had dinner at Westville where I saw you know who’s ex.  That was rather fascinating.  We were obviously aware of each other but were not going to swap war stories any time soon.

Walked to Mulberry party where I had a blast being told how good I looked by old friends.  I have lost a lot of weight..mainly because I have been so unhappy-but this seems to have paid off!

Saw Preston and snuggled with him.  He’s an ex of mine from LA.

Walked home, ate frozen yogurt.  Cute man stopped me in the street and made me feel even better about myself.

This morning I had manhunt date number 2 with very sweet Brazilian man who said that I come off as the sort of bloke who has a very active sex life. HAHAHAHA.  That’s FUNNY!  I told him my miserable fuck count (12 people) and he was shocked.

JB has probably had 12 fucks in one week.  More.

Anyway, everyone I am meeting could be a friend…maybe more but to tell you the truth I am just not feeling it.   After feeling so connected with JB and so loving and SO intellectually compatible…I don’t know if I will ever feel that again for anyone.

Busy day ahead.

Onward and Upward!

Categories
art Rant

Suddenly Inspired…

…to write a film. But, guess what’s getting in the way? YOU GUESSED IT! The lieing twat of Westchester. That was something else he sneered at. My film making. “Oooh,” he chided, “It’s shot on tape.” Yeah, fuck face..shot on tape..went to Sundance nominated for a British Academy award. He really tried to undermine my confidence. Sneery cock whore that he is…

Ok, relapse! That’s what happens. I remember just how ‘ironic’ he is about anyone who tried to achieve anything..like kids or films. I wonder if he can communicate at all with the artists he is meant to represent when he is so desperate to be one himself.

He did make a sort of film. A high school parody. He thought it was HILARIOUS.

How will he ever encourage the best out of his clients? Unless he is getting fucked by them of course.

Wanna know something funny? He loved reading my blog when I was writing shit about other people. It’s a bit uncomfortable now tho isn’t it JB?

Hahhaha.

RENTER ALERT!!!

OK, yesterday, when I got back to the apartment in Hollywood (almost finished packing) there was a vicious note from Viken Douzdjian’s two-bit lawyer demanding his money back for the rental. Viken is a surgeon from Portland Oregon who rented the house for 7 people for $250 a night. He arrived and left immediately because the ‘TV was too small.’ and ‘There was a stain on the carpet.’ Let me remind you again Viken..that’s why it’s $250 a night rather $2, 500 a night like the guy next door or $25, 000 a night like the houses on the PCH. This surgeon from Portland told me to alter a cheque that he had misprinted then recalls the cheque! What a fucking twat. Then..get this..he tells me that he can’t stay in the house of a homosexual.

This surgeon better not be cutting you open if you are gay..cause he hates us gays!

Thank God I keep every email..including the one where he tells me to alter the cheque. Read the fucking contract dick-wad surgeon, homophobic, LIAR.

Viken Douzdjian is a homo hating, rental con-man who can’t seem to read the contract he signed. He joins the Renter’s From Hell Hall of SHAME.

Viken..let me introduce you to Irene Brown from Maud Place Hawaii and Dave Stewart from who gives a shit ville. Dave did the ‘we are Christians and can’t stay in your house’ bullshit.

“There’s PORNOGRAPHY in your house.”  they squealed like pigs after finding some funny postcards in a draw..without nudity I might add . Actually, I thought Dave was gay when I met him. My gaydar went off like an Amazonian dawn chorus. Mrs Dave probably put him through Christian gay-boy rehabilitation…so they could have those ugly kids.

Fuck Christians.

All of you.

Oh yeah, and when I spoke to Viken’s moronic lawyer I tried to make a point about Jews and Gays in the concentration camps and why homophobia should not be colluded with in the same way we have no truck with anti-Semitism.

He thought I was being an anti-semite..not realizing of course that JB is a Jew, my sponsor is a Jew..and so was my GRANDFATHER.

Fucking idiot.

I am in NYC. Alive..although maybe dying…here for fashion week. Hope I don’t bump into the lying fuck face.

Categories
Malibu

Shrinking/Shirking

Andrew

Had to take a couple of days away from my blog.  Firstly, my reason for writing it has become skewed. Secondly, when all one has to write about is the blog itself… hmmm. You understand.

Malibu.  The garden has been totally cleaned up by the new gardeners.  This annual sweep gives me so much pleasure.  The most rewarding $800 a man could ever spend.

Exciting news:  friends are seriously thinking about buying the house.  When they contacted me I was relieved then I began to wonder why I was selling it? Where else in the world would I be able to live like this?  The view, the land, the house… it’s all so beautiful.

The repaired road will make it so much better living here (I can walk to the local shops) but rather than thinking it would make it better for me… my fucked up head thinks it would make it better for someone else.  That’s insane!  I deserve it too.

I had to get away from the blog because I was indeed writing about Jake far too much and whilst I needed to I also have to stop.  This is the problem with obsessive thinking and who ever wrote I should get off the Jake thang is right… I really have to start thinking beyond the object of my obsession.

Just when you run out of good ideas God throws you a life line.  My friend Anna is moving into the house with me.  She is having a blast with her new film (traveling all over the world) but needs a place to live. We are very similar in as much as we both daily invent our lives.  So, next Tuesday I have a room-mate.

My friend Ashley needs a place too so we are all going to live here together.  The only remaining booking is for October so we are going to vacate for that.

I achieve so much more when I am with other like-minded people. Whenever Anna is here I get important things done that would otherwise remain undone.  I can be mother hen, make breakfast, organize walks, sit down and write.  All I have to overcome is the obsessive urge to clean the house and keep order.  I have to let that go.

Because I know that he reads this I often think of him when I am writing.   It’s horrible.  Trying to keep the flame burning.  Fragile, timid beautiful Jake.  I want to remember him kindly.  I really do.  I don’t want to believe that he came into my life to take whatever he needed.

Manhunt?  I want to be on Manhunt because he was on Manhunt.  I want to meet men because he met men.  I want to in spite of my own healthy needs.

The Manhunt thing is interesting.  It has taken no time at all to be totally disinterested in that site.  It cannot serve me.  Why do I go there?   Real people can serve me.  Living in fantasy around what could be only leads to disaster… as we have witnessed these past few months.

I have been attending gay AA meetings, connecting with my sober comrades.  Trying not to be negative, understanding I still sit in a great deal of fear around gay men… I begin to relax.  There is a community of men and women at my disposal who are more than willing to open their arms to me.

I am, after all, a rather well-known gay man in recovery.  So I should lead by example.

Coming up to my sober birthday on October 1st.  Traditionally this has always been a time of great reflection.   A time to remember what I gave up to become the man I am now.  If I had continued along the path of least resistance… I may very well be dead.  I will write about that last day of using on October 1st.

Fly East tomorrow for a few days.  Have to take art to NYC.  I really dread being in the city just in case I bump into him.  I don’t know what I would do.  It’s like when I got sober… those first few months I could be around people drinking but I could not be around anyone taking drugs,  it was too triggering.   As I have said before, he is not real… he is a cypher.

As he shrinks away I attempt to own the possibilities.  I am left with so much!   I am left with all of this… the view, the hope, the love and of course the very human fight to survive.  The fight to live.  The fight to make art.  The fight to breath in the new day.

I may very well have thrown away this past year obsessing over him.  I pray that I learned something useful from knowing him.  Please don’t let it have been a total waste?

My Australian friend Andrew visited yesterday.  I met him in Sydney ten years ago.  What a delicious man he is.  I think you would all agree?

My AA sponsor told me in no uncertain terms that I was shirking from the very real health issue I have.  He told me that I have to get it seen to as soon as possible.

Categories
Malibu

The Garden

It sure is odd living in Malibu again.  As if the past 18 months in Hollywood just never happened.   It has been raining and chilly all day today.  The gardeners came yesterday.  8 of them buzzing around the property dealing with the last 18 months worth of growth.  Today they returned to attack the larger trees and make them fire proof.  Lets face it though..there are no fires imminent.  This year has been British damp.  Poor little dog is shivering on the sofa.

12 people for lunch yesterday.  I flayed a chicken and cooked it with rosemary and lemons from the garden.

A great bunch.  Lots of love.  Surrounded by a great deal of unconditional love and conversation.  JAR and me are about the same age and have trodden the same path for many, many years but only really met here in LA.  She is possibly one of the most gorgeous women in the world.  Beautiful on the outside and equally beautiful on the inside.

It was a wonderful welcome back to Malibu.  Tomorrow night I am having dinner with Jenny A at SHLA.  She just drove from Mexico en route to London.  I am trying to fill my days with old friends.  They seem to more than adequately fill the void.

I am going to Palm Springs this weekend to a gay sober convention.  Meetings, meetings meetings.  Trying to connect with my tribe.  Then, rather annoyingly I have to go to NYC.  I am REALLY not looking forward to that.

When one can peek through at the various secret paths and vistas this place becomes magical.  You know, don’t you that I am putting the house on the market?  I am SURE it’s going to be impossible to sell but hey, let’s try shall we?

If I can get everything here and sell the house I will then try selling everything IN the house.  I wanna get out of here with one small bag of treasure and the Little Dog.

Travel light from now on.  Too much stuff.  Far too much STUFF.  Inside and outside my head.

The best part of that insightful comment I received the other day was the advice about getting strong around my health and finances.  I really have to deal with shit in those areas.

My back aches.  My balls ache.  My head hurts.  My fingers are dry.  My tummy is swollen.  My eyes are sore.

Yet, I am going in the right direction.  I really DO try and make a better life for myself.  I am not going to drink and take drugs but sometimes I think it would be a whole heap easier.  I bet I could meet a drug fucked loser in twenty seconds if I towed the line..went to gym, took drugs, drank at bars.

That was a joke everybody!

Just a joke.

Categories
Gay

Overcoming Obsession

This morning I lay in bed battling the resentments.  I made coffee and called the Katonah small claims court and had the forms faxed over to start my proceedings against him.  Quite without knowing why I called Joan and she told me that she had heard from him and he was hurt.  So, my heart melted and I threw away the forms.  By doing so I kinda threw in the towel.  Threw away the resentment and let him go.

I really don’t want to hurt him.  I really don’t.

I sent him a short letter and that was that.

All I wanted from the very beginning was to let him go like a mouse that you find in the house.  You don’t worry what happens to the mouse..you hope it survives but it’s really up to the mouse.

It’s going to take time to stop thinking about him.  I’m realistic about it.

So I wrote this:

Jake,

Listen. I know I have hurt you. I know that you will probably never forgive me.

I am not going to try getting the money. I want you to enjoy the friends I introduced you to and I hope that you can profit from those contacts from which you were meant to profit.

I hope you will one day understand why I couldn’t continue with our friendship. That I really loved you.

I am truly sorry for everything. For my part in this disaster.

I don’t know if I can stop writing about this on my blog. I will try.

Of course I want you to be happy, to find love. You will, as I have said a million times, make someone a wonderful husband.

The reason that I am writing this is because you told Joan how hurt you were and I hate that. In the abstract you can be hurt badly but in reality I don’t want you to suffer any more than you already are.

The fantasy and the reality of Jake.

You will be pleased to hear that during my last CNN appearance all I could see on the other side of the camera was your face.

It ruined it. I’m not doing that again.

I hope you understand better now why i decided why we can’t be friends or have contact.

You reacted so badly to my thoughtful note. I wasn’t trying to be cruel but I just don’t want half measures in my life.

So, now I have dropped a bomb on you in my blog and I don’t know how to make it right. You can find solace in the fact that you are weekly in the top ten most read blogs subjects on my page.

Remember, in the words of The Bard:

“love is not love that alters when alteration finds nor bends to the remover to remove”

This has been hard for both of us.

Let’s see if we can both forgive and forget.

Duncan

Categories
Gay Rant

trying to forgive

OK, it’s really time to forgive.  It’s so fucking hard to forgive someone you have loved. I don’t know if it’s the right thing?  We had such an intense time together.

I dealt with the unresolved financial aspect today but it gave me zero pleasure.

I think..why the fuck should he get away with anything.  Here it comes again..the wave of resentment.

I wish on more occasions that I care to admit that I could remove every single mention of him on my blog just like he wanted but now look..the pages are covered with him.   Mentions and pictures and insults.  I know that it must have hurt him terribly.  For what?

Because I loved him.  Because I don’t want to love him. Because I want to let him go..forever and this seemed like the only way.

I broke my promise to celebrate every moment of his new gay life.

Two people come together for what ever reason and try to make something happen.  The moment the heart is engaged it becomes treacherous.

Toby and I went out last night to WeHo where I thought I wanted to be happily surrounded by own kind.  It was GHASTLY!  I LOATH mediocrity!  Jake wasn’t mediocre.  He wasn’t deliberately cruel.  He was just confused.  I should have known better..but why should I?  Why should I know just because I am older?  I keep thinking about The Velvet Rage.  How we become who we are shaped in a hostile world.  Having to invent ourselves as we go along.

I don’t know the answers…why should I?

I tried to be there for him, to help him but I couldn’t help myself..I fell in love.  So, every time I eat a tomato I think of him because we bought those beautiful tomatoes in the market in Sanary and ate them like peaches.

Every time I sit opposite another man on a ‘date’ I compare them to him.   Every time something good or bad happens I want to share it with him..yet I have no right.  I never had any right.  You see, he always made it perfectly clear after he left her that he wasn’t leaving her for me.   The damage was already done.  I was already in love, I believed him when he wrote to me telling me how much he loved me.

Even though I urged him to get honest I think it suited me that he wasn’t.  When he finally told her I was in SHOCK.  It seemed like the most brave yet foolhardy thing to do.  There were other ways of telling the truth.  But that’s just my fucked up head getting in the way.  He did the right thing.

When I told John the Saturday morning he told her he was gay we both looked at each other in SHOCK.

As we became more involved I couldn’t just continue with things the way they were.  I couldn’t bear listening to him tell me about other men and not be profoundly hurt however generous I wanted to be.

I didn’t want it to end but it had no future and if it had no future I couldn’t continue.

I need either to be on my own or to share my life with a man who gives equally, kindly, compassionately.

This will make you laugh:  I met a man (my age) at dinner the other night who wanted a date but cancelled after reading my blog.  So, it’s just me and my blog.

As for the money? I don’t care about the money, I just care that he’s not getting away with anything.  Then of course..I do care.  When I am feeling angry or resentful I care so much about the fucking money.

It’s 110 degrees in LA.  At the end of the week we return to sultry days and chilly evenings.

Where are the grand romantic gestures?  Should I have moved to NYC ?  I simply couldn’t.  I couldn’t shift my life east because I loved him so much.  I always knew that I would eventually have to let him go.

Now look, these pages are littered with every mean thing I could have written about him.  But inside my crazy head every mean thing I think about him is balanced with a good thought, a lovely memory, a kind gesture.

I just don’t want you to think I am weak, laying in bed this morning and trying to conjour up good thoughts of Jake, wanting to remember all that was sweet and let the loathing go.

Toby and I went into Weho last night.  It was a cluster fuck.  The Abbey was throwing a birthday party for its owner.  We left a few minutes after arriving.   It was shirtless night there.  Just more flesh.  More male bodies, shaved chests, cropped hair..like walking onto the set of an endless porno shoot.  Aspirations reduced to one thing: cock.

When I craved, in the 1980’s, more openness for our gay culture so we were not hidden from those who might harshly judge us..did I ever imagine this:

From the sidewalk we could see into Mickey’s where half-naked men gyrated on podiums with dollar bills stuffed in their knickers.  At East West more half-naked men on podiums wearing cowboy hats trying to dance unsuccessfully to country and western music. In Fiesta Cantina karaoke boys sang moody songs very badly and worst of all, just a few doors away in Rage a man was being bound and gagged in the entrance of the bar and hoisted above the audience by a vile, tattooed queen in leather.

I, like the dumfounded straight people around me,  looked in at this horrible spectacle.  I felt sick that this carnage was the public face of our ‘culture’.  The freaks, the mediocre, the wet brains, the fools..and (however beautiful they were) all so ugly..so inauthentic.

That we had all fought so hard to be taken seriously…and crave marriage and equality.

I let the little dog out of the car and he ran like a lunatic around the West Hollywood park and I felt as if in some small way my faith could be restored in the world.