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6:44 p.m. - February 19, 2003
There's got to be something worth the hassle
Vehicle is being attended to by mechanics and Iím home, unproductive and bored. The mechanics say itís a converter thing [mysterious mumbo-jumbo about [unknown] near the catalytic converter (I think)] and that itíll be ready tomorrow morning, around 10:00 a.m. I didnít ask if it was expensive. I said OK. I donít know much about vehicles, I admit; never spent time under one in greasy overalls and holding up spark plugs against the light, never dismantled and reassembled the engine with original parts buffed to a shine. No, I just begged rides from people until I had discovered the practical benefits of having girlfriends with cars and managed until I got my own vehicle later on.

And since Iím transportation-less in the morning, I called the agency and told them Iím taking Thursday off. Any excuse for a mini-vacation and Carolyn laughed, saying So thatís how you always end up smiling and I demurred; then she said I could afford to take a day off last minute since she spent her lunch hour signing checks and I have a hefty one coming my way and thus, I am guilt- and desperation-free.

So tomorrow I sleep in!

And Friday I leave for Mendocino and the three-cottage-enclave on the bluff; a cottage-and-breakfast deal and I will be the only occupant with the owners somewhere else and now Iím unsure of why exactly I wanted to go, but go I shall. And Iím not going to bring the laptop (why did I ever buy the damn thing?) and instead will write longhand. I want to ask Spec along but mumís the word. He may as well come along since Iíll be thinking about him but I want to be alone. Thatís untrue; I donít really want to be alone Ė if thatís what I wanted, I could stay home Ė but what I crave is the drive. And Iím hoping for a storm.

Been digesting Ė ruminating, obsessing Ė Mondayís events with little satisfaction. Being generally pessimistic, most of the things Iím thinking arenít uplifting, but Iím frustrated and unhappy. I still donít know what triggered my reaction Ė none of the previous episodes were ever like this Ė and the overriding feeling I have is that Iím never going to be genuinely intimate if I have to be on guard against Ė against what exactly? Itís an uncontrollable and sudden fear and panic, outright terror, or nausea sometimes, and I shake and I want to flee Ė and hide, kind of Ė and I canít calm down. Monday, I donít know what happened; one minute I was enjoying what we were doing and the next was screaming and I donít remember it but I can recall Specís reaction, he tried to shush me and then he held me and kept saying itís okay, itís okay, Iím here for you but I couldnít stop and then he started to cry and said he couldnít take it. When he left I took a shower and scrubbed and scrubbed, used up all the hot water, then filled the tub with what was left and only then could I calm down and breathe. Usually this happens/ed Ė I donít know what to call this problem Ė when Spec was inside me but Monday, we hadnít even done that. You know what Iím thinking most about? If I am gay and react adversely to gay sex, that doesnít bode well for relationships. To desire but canít have, to fantasize but canít experience. Is this how itís to be?

In a safe environment with somebody I trust and seeing my (gay) fantasy in vivo and enjoying the sensual, enjoying the closeness with Spec, feeling so good and comfortable, I couldnít handle it. And this was an ideal situation.

Itís very lonelymaking.

Spec hasnít called or come by and I donít know where heís staying and if heís smart, heíll stay away and yeah, it hurts, but itís for the better. Or something like that.

What I hate most of all is this lack of control.

 

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