When I Need A Pick Me Up, by my friend Ryan King

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Freedom FAIL

So last night I reunited with my old D&D group. Since I had been stepping over to Grim's place a few times I felt ready to make a whole re-entry, being that Grim was the one I had the problem with to begin with but now I had conquered that.

(To recap for those playing at home; Grim both pissed me off and I have a mad crush on him at the same time. I left the group because of both reasons. During my travels one day, I saw him driving and forgot all the anger and only missed him. Called him up and have since been to his house three times. Told him I was gay, and he accepted it with no fanfare nor calamitous disaster.)

So yesterday, on the day I chose to return to the group, Grim took the stairs out of the Hosting Girl's pool. This is a yearly ritual in which Grim takes off his shirt. This year I got a look. Several looks, to be honest.

Grim is so fine. omg is he so, so fine. He is the closest real-life equivalent to Jason Statham I have ever had the fortune of being friends with.

What's funny is, Hero Cop was also there and he's looking good too. He's maintained his weight loss and is as full of affection and enthusiasm as a puppy. He's eating right, working out, and is dying for appreciation. Which I give in copious amounts. So without a moment's hesitation, at the slightest encouragement, Hero Cop yanked his shirt off too (nowhere near the pool, I might add) to show me and the rest of us his progress. Clearly this was something the others hadn't allowed him to do during my absence. Well ... Hero Cop's stomach was flat. He is a full 30 lbs lighter and about 3 inches shorter than I am. BUT. There was no shape. No tone to him. He looked like a compressed man. Like remember those bodywraps people used to get? He looked freshly unwrapped. Things were held in, but I saw no muscle tone, except in his arms. Triceps, to be precise. I love my lil dude, but he's no Grim.

Anyway, I say all this as a preamble to what, exactly? That I didn't tell them all about my being teh gay. I just ... I couldn't. The same fear and pressure in my belly remained there through the night. Every time I considered it. Grim was able to comport himself as though he didn't know or care what I was, and that made it easier for me to do what I've always done. Pretend like I didn't know or care either.

And the moral of this story is, I'm aware that this is the way I'd rather live my life. This is my default position. This is what I've been doing for 4 decades and despite all my big talk, or maybe in the light of my kissless date with a kind and cute gay man, I know how safe it feels in this closet of mine and I know I want to stay in it.

I mean, I do know that. For the last couple of weeks, I've been wanting to change that but for the last couple of days, with increasing intensity, I have not wanted to. Very not.

Today it feels like Freedom FAIL. So much so that I want to cancel my date for Tuesday and pretend none of this ever happened.

And that's what's going on.


GrizzBabe said...

Might I encourage you to make yourself go on this date? Even if you think there's no chance of something long-term developing. The only way to begin to feel comfortable being out of the closet is to actually step out of it, for short periods at first until you get used to your new surroundings. When you get freaked out again (and you probably will), you can go back for a breather. Soon, the closet will become as unfamiliar to you as the "out life" once was.

GrizzBabe said...

I should have said "as the 'out life' is now. You know what I mean.

Me said...

I just want to give up. It feels horrible this fear. Feels like gravity's about to end and I'm about to be snatched up into the blackness of space. It's the unknown. Or rather, it's the known -- the known homophobia, the known gay oppression, the known prejudices that are out there, and all that baggage to load up on my back when I grab my fella's hand and walk with him anywhere outside of Chelsea.

I don't want that. I don't know what I want. I just know what I don't want.