Six (th)

For the life of me I’m trying to figure out what happened and if I did anything wrong. I first wrote about my friendship with Gene and how I may have changed it in my Risk/Reward post. Then on the 26th of January I had my follow up conversation with him that I subsequently wrote about in my Your Answer Please post. As I told him at the time, the timing for me to express all of this was atrocious, but it was important enough for me to express my feelings and be completely honest with him. I truly thought he respected that. I truly thought he appreciated that. (he did, because that's what he told me) Most importantly, I thought that the conversation we shared on the 26th was one where we both got to experience a more emotionally intimate and authentically pure side of each other than what we had previously experienced before.

I left our dinner incredibly excited. Unfortunately, On the 28th of January I traveled back to Arizona where I remained until the 20th of February. Although I like to present an image to the world that nothing emotionally effects me, it’s all a charade. I AM HUMAN and 2009 has been emotionally draining. From my quest to find intimacy, love, and sense of place in Los Angeles, to the experience of my final weeks with and the eventual passing of my companion and best friend, to the reality of formally moving to L.A., having finally moved my own furniture and property out from Arizona, to every financial asset I own in a perpetual state of valuation free fall with no bottom in site thanks to our irresponsible government (the Democrats, whom I voted for appear to have learned NOTHING as it relates to spending money we don’t have from the Republicans of the last 8 years) So suffice it to say, my 2009 has not started out very well.

All the more reason for me to have been excited to get back to L.A. on the 20th and see what was to come in my relationship with Gene. While in Arizona, Gene and I spoke and texted each other a number of times but never did we follow up on our conversation. Having returned, on Friday night I met up with him and another friend of mine, whom I’ll call Militant, out for dinner. It was a good time and I was glad to see them both again. Obviously with Militant there, Gene and I didn’t discuss anything pertinent to where we left it on the 26th. So on Saturday night I go out to dinner with Gene and Ethan. Once again, Gene and I didn’t discuss anything pertinent to where we left off on the 26th since Ethan was with us. After dinner we went dancing at CPop where we met up with some of our other friends. It was at CPop when my emotions of the last few weeks finally began to hit me. Midway through the night, I detached myself from everybody, found a spot along a wall, and began to become very glazed and reflective. I can’t even begin to imagine what others thought of me as I stared into the abyss reflecting on everything that has gone on in my life over the last six weeks. As they were leaving, Gene and Ethan found me and we all went home.

Since that night I haven’t spoken with Gene. We’ve attempted to communicate with one another, although I’ve begun to wonder how serious an effort we’ve made based on the times we’ve tried to reach each other. So my sixth sense takes me back to what I had ironically questioned in my Your Answer Please post.

Six days to wonder what the answer would be.


Six days to wonder whether I had made a mistake.


Six days to wonder, based on the experience of those 6 long days, what it would be like to not have any verbal communication with my friend.

At this point, I sense Gene just wants to be friends and doesn’t want to explore what those other feelings each of us may have had in the past for each other may have meant. I’m cool with that, and I accept and respect his decision. His friendship has been very important to me and I’ve conveyed to him, on numerous occasions, how appreciative of him I’ve been. I only hope that Gene has the courage to personally convey his thoughts to me so we can move beyond what we created on the 26th and our friendship can move forward in a positive way.


“Human”-The Killers (Armin Van Buuren Radio Remix)

In Memory

I remember at the age of nineteen sitting on the pool deck of our fraternity house, with who would become your other two dads, discussing the idea of going out and finding you. I never had a dog growing up, so I was excited about the idea of getting one.

I remember traveling to Ahwatukee with Straitlord, who as it turned out you liked a lot more than your other dad, Baby Huey, to visit your birth family. We subsequently chose you and brought you home with us to the fraternity house.

I remember having mixed emotions at the time because I was so excited that you were now part of our family, but I also felt terrible that we took you away from your mom, dad, and siblings at the tender age of around two weeks old.

I remember how darned cute you were as a puppy. With your flopped over ears, tiny paws, black nose and eyes, and curled up little tail. I thought your most discernible feature was your pigment around your eyes. Your right eye was black and your left was pink.

I remember how Alice, who certainly didn’t need any help with the ladies, used to carry you around and use you as his wingman those first few months when we had sorority functions at the house, hoping to impress the girls with his softer side.

I remember how you were the first. Soon thereafter another brother brought T into the house. The two of you formed your own little puppy pledge class.

I remember how you and T used to dart down the hallway to get to the sand volleyball court where you would play and play and play until the two of you were exhausted and your tongues were double their size. You’d come back in with sand and T’s drool all over you, lie down next to your water bowl, and make a mess slurping up some water.

I remember how you used to love to dig in the volleyball court. I can vividly picture you digging with your snout in the sand, your front paws moving a mile a minute, sand flying backwards between your hind legs, and the hole you left behind.

I remember that as T began to grow larger than you, you seemed to have not noticed it nor really cared about his size. The two of you continued to rough house like when you were younger. You were never afraid of him, nor any of the other bigger dogs you used to play with later on in your life.

I remember us teaching you your one and only trick. Paw, other paw, and high five. You were really great at remembering them, but in truth, I am pretty sure you were just playing us for some more treats.

I remember how much you used to love to run. We’d be walking down the street of our first house on the way to the park, when with about 200 yards to go, I’d take you off your leash and watch you sprint the rest of the way to the grass. At the park, I’d attempt to chase you, but in most cases you were too fast and there was too much grass for me to cover. The image of your face and body running, with your coat swept back to your tail will never leave me.

I remember we’d play fetch, but half the time you had me fetching your ball or rope because after having fetched it, you’d drop it nowhere near where I was. Maybe you knew I had put on a couple of pounds at the time and you wanted me to slim down a bit.

I remember, while on the grass, how much you used to love lying on your side, then on your back, and then on to your other side. While doing that you used to love taking a bite out of the grass.

I remember coming home so many times to find you sleeping on my bed.

I remember in preparation for The Pipes overnight visit, I thought I would be cute and place chocolates, that I had brought back with me from a hotel I had stayed at on an earlier business trip that week, on their pillows. Only, The Pipes were never able to enjoy those chocolates because it was you my Little Guy who somehow found them on their bed while we were at dinner. You even ate most of the wrappers.

I remember how much you loved your next door neighbor S. She was much smaller than you, and despite you having been snipped years before, you would mount her from the back or either of her sides. We all had great fun watching you work on your abs.

I remember all the different names our friends had for you.

I remember how you used to occasionally mount, mainly from the sides, one of the bigger male dogs down the street and I was left to wonder........

I remember how much you used to love the closet. I can’t begin to tell you how many times I would come home looking for you, only to find you behind my hanging clothes in our walk-in closet. It wasn’t only in our house, but when you would stay at The Runners, I was told you spent a great deal of time in their closet as well. Again, I was left to wonder...........

I remember each time I took a business trip and had to drop you off at the boarding facility. I would watch you walk away with a tremendous amount of guilt.

I remember these last few months and how wonderful it was for us to spend them together. As much as you needed me over this period, I needed you more and I am thankful that you were there for me.

I remember our first drive back home to Arizona in early August. It was during this trip when I was to begin the process of coming out to the rest of our family and friends. Once we crossed the Colorado River into the state of Arizona, you decided to shit three times in the backseat of the car. I had to stop on three different occasions within the span of 45 minutes to clean it up. I was left to wonder what message you were trying to convey to me about what was to come on our first visit back home.

I remember it was during the Sunday of that weekend back in early August when the struggle in my life began to ease as yours unfortunately began to grow. In the span of six hours on that Sunday, I went from shedding tears for myself in having finally begun the process of coming out to my closest friends, to shedding tears for you in learning from the veterinary nurse about your heartbreaking experience overnight and hearing for the first time the conversation about your "quality of life" and when “is the right time.”

I remember our last Thanksgiving together as a family up at your grandparents house last November. I am thankful that you were able to spend some time with your cousins, aunts, uncle, and grandparents one last time.

I remember watching you devour a double double during our last Valentine’s Day together. You captured my heart the moment we brought you home.

I remember this time exactly one week ago, having arrived at the vet, splitting with you a 3 Musketeers candy bar. A 3 Musketeers because it represents the three of us who brought you into our lives. A 3 Musketeers because it is my favorite candy bar and it represents our shared love of chocolate. A 3 Musketeers because you were such a sweet dog, and I wanted your final treat to be a sweet one.

Of all the memories that I have of our time spent together, which are way too numerous to list here, what I will remember most my Little Guy was seeing you smile. You ALWAYS smiled and I will forever remember how much you loved life. The joy, learning, and love you brought to my life was immeasurable and I can’t even begin to convey to you how proud of you I was in how wonderful you turned out to be. I was incredibly blessed. You were a tremendous friend and companion, and I am so grateful that you were such a significant part of my life. You are, and will continue to be deeply missed, forever loved, and never forgotten!

Rest in peace my Little Guy, rest in peace!

Please Lend Your Support

This video was actually presented at the Camp Courage event that I participated in which I wrote about in my Story of Self post. I actually looked for it on their site then to share it along with my post, but they didn't have it on their site at the time. So thanks to Ed (from Hear, here) for forwarding it on to me.

THIS IS WHAT FULL MARRIAGE EQUALITY LOOKS LIKE AND WHY GOOD PEOPLE EVERYWHERE ARE FIGHTING FOR IT!


"Fidelity": Don't Divorce... from Courage Campaign on Vimeo.

"Fidelity" used with permission from Regina Spektor and EMI Records.


At the Courage Campaign Site you will see the following:

Tell the Supreme Court to invalidate Prop 8, reject Ken Starr's case, and let loving, committed couples marry. DEADLINE: Valentine's Day

We, the undersigned, share President Barack Obama's view that "for too long, issues of LGBT rights have been exploited by those seeking to divide us. It's time to move beyond polarization and live up to our founding promise of equality by treating all our citizens with dignity and respect."

Yet, on December 19, 2008, Ken Starr and the Prop 8 Legal Defense Fund filed legal briefs defending the constitutionality of Prop 8 and seeking to nullify the 18,000 same-sex marriages conducted between May and November of 2008.

The Supreme Court will hear oral arguments in this case on March 5, 2009, with a decision expected within the next 90 days. We, the undersigned, ask that the Court invalidate Prop 8 and recognize the marriage rights of these 18,000 couples -- and all loving, committed couples in California -- under our state's constitution.

As Americans who believe in the rule of law and fundamental civil rights, we know that Ken Starr and the Prop 8 Legal Defense Fund's shameful attempt to nullify these unions will not be vindicated in the eyes of history. We know that, ultimately, love will prevail, no matter how hard they try to fight it.

Sincerely,

So please make a difference by going to the Courage Campaign Site and lending your support! SIGN HERE . I did and I hope you will join me! Thanks!

Second of the Anniversaries

The closet door finally opened up one year ago today. On February 2nd 2008, I said out loud for the first time that, “I am gay!”

Bob, who has been and still is a very good friend and mentor to me, was the first person I told and our conversation went incredibly well. I’m extremely grateful for the support that he showed me during that very difficult conversation, but even more so for what was to come over the next few months.

They say that verbalizing who you are to someone you know makes you real. I believe that. What I can't believe is that it's been 12 months!