Archive for September, 2010

… freefalling?

Posted in Uncategorized on September 24, 2010 by moderngatsby

It’s complicated …” I lied as I answered his question and in the silence that followed as we stood on his patio, I knew it sounded as empty and transparent as the empty glass in my hand. Fortunately the semi-darkness of the lush gardens at this boutique hotel provided a shadowed masque that made my usually inscrutable face even harder to read as the truth hit home. I was alone because I had consciously invested so much time and energy into relationships that while in the beginning would never go anywhere, yet managed to find their way into our hearts and a possible future together.

As Dave’s words still echoed, the anger that I had been feeling towards the two men that I felt were anchors in my life of late bubbled like a geyser of tar.  With a growing frequency, it was demonstrated in the most destructive passive-aggressive behaviour imaginable and had become symptomatic of the resentment I now felt towards what we had. And as the distance between widens the abyss of silence that comes as you lose the intimacy proximity brings the resentment grew as I realised what we had now lost. Struggling with the decision of whether to let go, or try and work harder to salvage, I faced the fear of the moment and did something so out of character: I spoke up and confronted a great love and one that found itself something in between.

Later that week while I paraded my latest bête noir to friends, I got to thinking about it all. In life it’s a pretty common belief that women, and some gay men tend to use the left or more emotional side of their brain and men the right more logical side. But is it really that cut and dry? It seems that when it comes to affairs of the heart there’s a battle between what we know and what we feel. So what do you do when you find yourself in a situation that leaps back and forth between the left and right side? As I sat drinking my vodka tonic I couldn’t help but wonder: when it comes to relationships, is it smarter to follow your heart or your head?

When it came to the Cookie Monster, it started as most of our mornings do, I’m late for work and he’s trapped at work listening to me try and have a conversation while he updates his email, plays with his iPhone and in between it all make the appropriate noise at the most suitable time. After months of this disinterested politeness, I snapped. And like the dam of emotion that had swelled up this past year since we were no longer, it burst out of my mouth and into the empty townhouse we now occupy by circumstance. When the tirade had trickled to a whisper, I could hear from the on the other side of the line that what I said was true. We were going to lose something that meant something to both of us. And just like that we followed our hearts and made an effort to begin again as something we had long forgotten we started out as: friends.

While the second, yet equally important decision was easier than I imagined it could ever be. With no expectation, or explanation necessary I quietly removed him from my life. Yes there will be days that I will miss his company, but those days are long past since he made his decision. It hurt when I heard the words uttered as I stood opposite him in the kitchen, now in hindsight I realise that perhaps he had chosen his equal, when I compare myself to the decision that is manifest to all the things that I could never settle for, dreams that I would never realise and a life that I could never have had he chosen me.


… 3:24?

Posted in Uncategorized on September 24, 2010 by moderngatsby

It used to be a favourite of ours. Saint-Saëns. We’d play it on a Sunday evening as we sat in the bath talking. Afterwards, we’d find ourselves in the flickering candle-light. Making the kind of shadows only one thing can make: love. Where in the darkness, whispers are secrets shared only by lovers. A night full of promises,  we have an eternity to keep.

3:24 – The Swan, Carnival of the Animals.

In the darkness of the room, only the smouldering cigarette in my hand lights my crinkled face. An empty bottle of cheap vodka tumbles to the floor next to a half-full vial of pills. There aren’t enough inside to numb the pain anymore. The water, warm. The blade of surgical steel, cold. I remember to start at the bottom and pull upwards. Pushing it down as hard as I can.

3:24 – the time it takes to look over at the man and realise he is the one.

The letter sits beside the bath. The words a reminder that I was just not good enough. For a brief second the pain is unbearable. But not as painful as knowing he loved me once. Then it recedes. The water a light pink becomes darker. Crimson becomes Blood red. Dark like a womb before I was born. Before I made so many mistakes.

3:24 – the time it takes to die alone

… phantom gates?

Posted in Uncategorized on September 24, 2010 by moderngatsby

As I sat in stunned silence, with the sun setting and the near full moon overhead, my heart went out to her as her voice echoed in my ears. Trying to be so strong, while her heart was breaking at the tragic news of her loss became a burden that seemed so unfair for someone so young. Young love, like old are the truest expressions binding the souls together eternally. And in that moment I came to realise my own loves, past and present and the almost fleeting natures of them all. No matter how sympathetic or supportive the words uttered are a crude response to something so shattering. In those awkward and difficult situations when your heart reaches out to the other, knowing that a friendship is deeper and more sustaining in offering some kind of comfort seems all you can do in that time and space.

It seemed a weekend for memories, and as I drove to the church almost a year to the day to remember another friend and mentor who was no longer with us I came to realise that in living for the moment you sometimes forget the past, and don’t plan for the future. He was the most wonderful man that I had ever met, and although I knew him for many years it seemed that there would always be another day, another time for us to ruminate the distilled wisdom that he had collected through the decades, the knowledge he wished to impart and the guidance he wanted to share. His humility was something extraordinaire despite a lifetime of excellence that would have tainted lesser men with arrogance and pride. Perhaps the most intelligent, he was able to impart the most complex of problems with the simplest solutions.

… mea culpa?

Posted in Uncategorized on September 24, 2010 by moderngatsby

Je ne dors plus. Je te desire. Prends moi. Je suis a toi. Mea culpa.

There is laughter at the table when we gather. Conversations cross over each other. There is food. Too much food. I am nervous. He can see that. He puts his hand on my leg as a way to show me it’s okay. Everyone sees. No explanation needed. I laugh, I join the conversation. I am comfortable. He is laughing too. His dark eyes glint in the candle light of the table. More food. More conversation. Hours seem like minutes. It’s over. People get ready to leave. So do I. He takes my hand and whispers in my ear in the kitchen: “don’t leave yet.” I say goodbye to the others. The nervousness is back. A different kind. A different reason.

Je veux aller au bout de me fantasmes. Je sais que c’est interdit. Je suis folle. Je m’abandonne. Mea culpa.

We are sitting outside watching the stars. I love to sit in silence. So does he. I am smoking. He has quite for the holy month. I put it out. He shivers. It’s cold outside on the balcony. I shiver. He puts his arm around me. I can feel the warmth of his body under the jersey he is wearing. The ridges of his muscles as he pulls me closer to him. Our tongues entwined, as our bodies nestle against each other. I feel weak. He is strong. He whispers something in my ear. Words I don’t understand. They will haunt my dreams. His hands wonder. So do mine. The night is a silent witness to our desires. We give in. It’s slow. Painful. Exquisitely gentle. It lasts for a lifetime. A different time.

Kyrie eleison. Christe eleison. Mea culpa.

I remember the words spoken that afternoon, “keep it light. No pressure”. I am reminded of a promise I made to myself with the last disappointment. I will break this man’s heart. Mea culpa.