Here I am, finding my life in shambles. I thought that Lou and I were going to be together for a long time. We WERE in SOME people's opinions. However, because of both of us hurting each other so bad, we are now left with a friendship, and a lot of pain.
For him, it's a new kind of pain, like a fresh cut. Bleeding, hurting more to look at the wound, then to ignore it and let it stop bleeding.
For me, it's a deep pain. An old wound, one that I may not see, but I could not ignore.
Most people have some sort of support. Someone to turn to. We BOTH had no one to turn to but ourselves. For me, that caused more pain to me then I have EVER experienced before. It was like I nearly died, then as soon as I saw the promise land, I was thrown back into reality, to what is my own hell.
The dam breaks...
I watched, recently, a friend break up with her boyfriend, and nearly kill me and herself in the process. I have watched a friend fall back into the lure of drugs. I have watched two men, who I care deeply about, finally lose the race against the law. Now, I look at what I have left in my life.
My school doesn't care about me, I am just another number. I have found a family that I could relate to, but if they found out about my sexuality, I would lose them too.
Once again, I am alone. I tried to sleep around for a while, thinking I could find a new boyfriend. But I found that no one even wanted to sleep with me anymore. Nothing has gone my way. But yet I am still fighting. I guess that's all I can do.
The bottom line...
What it comes down to is I still love Lou, but I still love Seth. It's the same pain to me now. Just another person who I can not seem to love the same way they love me, or something like that. I just wonder when I am finally going to find that boy next door who I can talk to without having to worry about impressing, or constantly have to listen to him correct everyone of my mistakes as I had with Seth and Lou.
To Jeff (not the editor) from Camp Nawakwa...
Somewhere out there there is a boy named Jeff...I know not where he is. But I wronged him. One night, at church camp...1991 I was 11, he tried to get on top of me. I was so scared. But I wanted him to. I kicked him that night. Why? Because I wasn't thinking. My God I loved him. Without even thinking I knew I loved him, but I made a horrible mistake that night, and that week. Camp Nawakwa became a nightmare to me, a place where I could not rid myself of that ghost.
Jeff, if you ever do see this, I am sorry.
One friend sits on the steps...
Finally, I stand on my two feet, knowing that there are dozens of forces looking to kick them out from beneath me. But that's how it is for me. Sooner or later, I will get on my feet, and I will ASK people to try to kick them out from beneath me...because I will be strong enough to know they can't. But till then, I just fall, and pull myself back up.
On 3/5/99, I turned 19, but it was more than a passing of a new year, it was the passing of a dream. The dream of happiness and of companionship. While I seem to ramble this month, I can not go deeper. I have too much to say. But maybe next month I will write better.
Take Care folks,