7:16 a.m. - August 01, 2003
1) Dr. Indy assumes I have a confidante whom I can call, a support system, she calls it. Does she not understand the degree of shame I feel those nights I cannot sleep and yearn for morning, the nights when all seems lost and I'm as brave as a child in a foreign land amidst swarming strangers intent on malevolence? If she has no clue, it is because I don't divulge, I don't tell her how frightening and how real, how palpable, my dreams are and no amount of my special words or self-talk seem to work. And the intensity! I don't understand why now they are gaining strength and becoming more vivid just when I thought perhaps I had them under control.
2) I say Yes, please come and once the ticket is purchased, he becomes an ass again. Last night it was good boy this, good boy that and why does he not realize this is demeaning to me, frustrating and belittling? His retort: I am too sensitive. Do I provoke this? Am I complicit in some way? What ego trip does he derive from this? And what do I gain in return, because I know there's something corporeal, something I haven't identified. That's not quite true: I suspect I resist all in favor of one goal, that being to make sure I feel bad for being gay, perhaps as if I were punishing myself? This is a vague thought, perhaps one worth investigating further. Does that make any sense? Hmm. No, not really. Perhaps if I don't enjoy gay sex, then I'm not as - what? - or - I don't know.
3) Last night had dinner in Dupont Circle and I felt no more comfortable in the area than I did last year: Rainbow flags, neon pink triangle stickers. This life isn't for me, right? Just say yes and appease my delusions. Went with a few colleagues and Ph.D. candidates from my department and overall had a good time, even if I felt invisible. Why invisible, you ask? Because last year I was looked at - is it cruised, Twids? - and this year, not at all. You gain weight and become invisible. How's that work? On that note, I dread Spec's reaction when he sees, but he's said he doesn't care and just wants us to be together. I hope, I hope, I hope.
4) And outside my window not far below there's a gardener crew and I can't take my eyes off one of the guys. Why fool myself? I'm gay, I want to be gay, I want to revel and play, but no. No no no no no no.
Sign the guestbook, eh?