10:11 p.m. - June 24, 2002
Life is not Burger King
Had dinner with Spec tonight.
He wanted to come here, or for me to go with him to his place. I left him at Foggy Bottom and disappeared into the crowd.
How is it I can hate this so much yet be drawn to him the way I am? Why is it that when I tell him I don't want, there's a voice that says Yes, I do. Why does he have to know me so well, well enough to know what I really want, but won't say?
He is perhaps the first person in my life who I've been unable to push away.
One minute after meeting him at the metro station my heart ached, it truly did, and he said Look At Me and it was hard because I felt guilty for the things I've said and done to throw the brakes on everything that was going on and running away. Sitting on the lawn by the canal with a rock bridge to my left, I wanted to jump on top of him and roll and tickle him and have him tickle me, and while sharing a Coke our hands touched and we both said I miss that at the same time.
Even at a moment like that, I was fighting.
We argued. He asked why I don't want to be in a relationship with him, why I shut myself off to a love he's had for a long time now, asked me why I thought he was still interested. He said You Deserve All I Can Give You, But You Won't Allow Yourself To Accept It.
I reminded him again that I was not his type and we had a good laugh because that is true, one would never picture us together. We're too different. He works for the government and has a badge. I'm a pseudo-academic. He's Jock; I'm Let's watch hockey. He's outgoing; I'm reserved. He's goofy; I'm obsessive. He's beautiful; I'm not. Six Feet Under is our show: He's Keith, I'm David. We laugh because it is us, except for the professions.
He got threatening for a bit, in an uncomfortable way that bothered even me. He grabbed the back of my neck and yelled Why Won't You See and I punched him and he became upset and said the only reason I don't want him is because I was his bitch and liked it too much, and I'm afraid of that. That is true.
That is it exactly, right there.
He asked me if I understood what it meant for him and for us when I topped him, that it was for him an expression of love he's never done for anyone else and I thought Likewise and we became frustrated because I had shut myself off and watched the breeze play with the leaves and the grass.
I've prayed about this. I've cried about this. I've pushed him away, hardened my heart, denied myself the hope. And for what? Because I consider it sin and evil? And when I think that, do you know what comes to mind? It's that through all of this, he's been there, patient and encouraging and always wanting me. Is that love? Maybe between two guys it is, and I just can't see it. That little voice says What if this is a gift? and once again, I have no response.
