The Boy and I












There’s not much daylight these days. I wake up in the dark, work mostly in the dark, spend my time off work in the dark, predominantly. Generally speaking, it’s a hard job not to just want to sleep all the time every day until spring. I swear I’m built for hibernation.
Thing is, that’s not how capitalism works. Or the modern human society, for that matter. One must get up and do the things, even when the sun can’t be bothered to rise over the horizon, or hang out up in the sky for very long.
This year feels different, though, and it’s because of David. I haven’t written too much about him, either here or over on my twitter, but suffice to say, he’s keeping Daddy very, very happy. Even in the darkness. Especially in the darkness, in fact.
The Boy has challenged me to keep myself engaged with the world around me. He’s at my side, propping me up, reminding me that I’m worthy and lovely at nearly every turn. He keeps telling me and showing me how much he truly does care for me, and keeps me honest about how I perceive myself and treat myself from day to day.
I can honestly say I have never felt this complete before. I have a beautiful husband in Raymond, and a solid bond and connection with him that transcends any other relationship I have ever had. I have a beautiful Boyfriend in David, who is the spark and joy and light that is keeping this fire inside me lit, to be and become a better, stronger version of myself every single day.
I have my other members of my polyamorous gang (the other David, Rene, and Cody) who, while they are a bit more periphery in my life, still are my confidantes, my go-to guys, my leaning posts, my advice columnists, and lovers. There’s no more burning ache in my heart for more. Instead, there’s a desire to go deeper. To tend to the planted seeds, rather than expand the garden, is the objective now, and it feels like a good, massive shift in my driving force through this world. I am no longer SEEKING. I’m off the hookup apps. I’m not floating around in social spheres trying to catch the eye of someone I find attractive. I’m not engaging in conversations and flirtations with men from distant places in order to fill a gap in my heart and mind.
It might be the darkest month of the year, but there’s so much light in my heart and home; a solid glowing ember of pure, multi-dimensional and multi-faceted love that I have crafted and created for myself. While I spend a LOT of personal energy fretting and worrying over the machinations of it all, when I take a step back and really look at what I’ve built for myself and those I love, I’m actually quite proud of myself.
Living my truth, in all of its myriad of expressions, has got to be the biggest achievement of my life so far. No fiscal or personal gain has brought me more joy than the feeling of content in my heart.
Out of the blue, my Boy, who’d been kinda floating around in Salt Lake City, unsure of his next moves, and still seeking some forward momentum, made a decision.
He was coming to Portland.
He’d spent some quality time in Juneau, AK, and definitely had a fond memory of the damp and drear that’s somehow magical up here. After spending nearly a week with me, hiking and camping and getting to know me a lot better, he also decided to let me in.
Much closer, in fact.
So, he packed his bags, boarded a one-way flight, and now is taking up residence at our place.
It’s a big change. For all of us.
Amazingly, however, my beloved husband has been absolutely fine with it. He’s more than fine with my polyamory, and he’s also more than fine with us giving space to a lovely young man as he gets his feet under him and forges ahead with a new life here in Portland.
Today, the Boy, David, has begun the process of getting set up here. He enrolled in the Oregon Health Plan, and is working on getting registered to vote. He’s also started the job application process and the hunt for income.
He’s aware of the need for his own space, for a need to contribute to the household. He’s not just a freeloader, and not taking advantage of our generosity, or my heart. All of my worries and concerns and catastrophizing has been for naught.
Besides…Dad likes giving out more hugs and kisses to more lovely humans on his way out the door to work. This is a life-moment I’ve been dreaming about forever.
I don’t want to get political, but the events of yesterday, a culmination of seething hatred that’s been the background noise to my entire life came to an inevitable head. Like a puss-filled cyst, the conservative wing of the Supreme Court of the United States overturned nearly 50 years of precedent by tearing up Rowe v. Wade, pushing abortion access and laws back upon the states.
In doing so, they’ve set the stage to do the same for any and all laws relating to love, sex, marriage, race, disability, and other would-be “inalienable” rights.
That’s all well and good in a state like Oregon, where I live, and where, much to the chagrin of my central/eastern fellow Oregonians, we are a mostly-progressive state that has enshrined protections for a wide variety of human rights and ways of existing.
That’s utterly terrible for anyone living where the power to make laws rests in the hands of these feeble-minded men who cannot STAND to lose power or relevancy.
It’s been this struggle, buzzing around me like a tenacious horsefly, ever since I took my first breath. As soon as I had even a whiff of self-determination, I have questioned the motives of the conservatives, who wrap themselves up in Jesus, guns, and the flag at every fucking moment. Why do they hate me? Why do they hate anyone unlike them, for any reason? Why have they lost their sense of wonder and curiosity about the various forms of human existence, and have devolved into fearful, spitting rats? How did the public education I received as a young person produce me, a curious and constant knowledge-seeker, and yet leave them so fucking ignorant?
I don’t know.
But I do know I’m exhausted. They exhaust me. Idiocy *exhausts* me.
And? Their idiocy will kill people. Willful ignorance like what has been demonstrated time and time again, whether it’s fighting over integration, disability rights, reproductive rights, marriage rights, and on and on ALWAYS LEAVES SOMEONE DEAD.
So much for the Value of Life.
For now, I’m here, in my safe (for now) Liberal Bastion. And from here, I am a force of support, compassion, care, and love to any and all who are now under threat in my own country.
I don’t have the mental capacity to do more or be more. That’s frustrating. It’s always been frustrating.
If you need or want me, just reach out.
I had the last five days off from work. As a break in my usual routine, it was a nice time for me to catch my breath, and catch up on some tasks I needed to do. Mostly, though, it was a break from the grind of my day job.
In the past, it would have also meant a few evenings of imbibing and carousing, spending money and time drinking and seeking mental escape from the things that keep me awake at night. Of course, that’s not an option for me now, as I have gone sober, so what could have been a raucous week before Pride was actually quiet, thoughtful, and full of introspection.
Over the last two nights, though, I tested myself. I wanted to be around other queer people in a space that felt comfortable. For all of my gay life, that’s been at the bar. Not drinking, though, had never really been part of the equation. I wondered how I’d do.
My first visit, by myself? Awful.
Overwhelmed, unable to maintain composure, needing to hide and catch my breath more than once, it was such a strange experience. All of my bar friends were great, but watching them get more and more drunk was – a lot.
I left early. I was actually not ok.
I had to calm myself down before I drove.
Last night, however? Much, much better.
I was deft at ordering up ginger ale. Paid in cash, and left hefty tips for the bar. I was able to connect with friends who, one by one, told me that they were proud of me and my choice to go sober. Good conversation was had. Hugs. Laughs. Smiles. All the good parts of community and camaraderie.
I got home, tired and satisfied.
I slept like the dead.
And I felt like I could do it again, much like the first time I stepped into a gay bar.
Happy Pride, indeed.
You must be logged in to post a comment.