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

Friday, May 20, 2011

And Do-Over Again

So since my ex called, I haven't given it a repeat listen. It seems the memory of her voice is crystal clear. And I've toyed with how many ways I was going to call her back. What tone to set? What content? Confident? Cocky? Angry? Sad? Needy? Vulnerable? Honest?


And then I just thought, if she wants me--I'm doing it. If she wants me--I want her. I want that normal life. I want that chance. I want it back. I want to fit in. I want acceptance from everyone who I fear will reject me.

I thought that, yes, I tried dating a man--but I couldn't seal the deal. I couldn't even kiss him. Too terrified. So I figured I could just forget I ever said anything. Just stop talking about it. Go with a girl who wants me, and I'll figure stuf out. I like to watch hetero porn a lot of times, still! So what, I think dudes are hot? So what??!! Girls think girls are hot too!!! They even kiss each other!!! That doesn't make THEM gay!!!! SO WHY DO I HAVE TO BE GAY!!?? WHYYYYY!!!!!!!???

And that's where I was at. Then I came home and checked out--went to play ChampionsOnline and listen to my friends' podcasts just to let all this pressure go.

Then I checked the comics' messageboards hangout where I chatbout comics with, and dipped in to a weight-loss thread to check out the latest progress of my cyberfriends. And lo and behold, what did I see? A fellow geek was so proud of his current weightloss that he posted a pic of himself flexing his biceps, sans shirt.

And he is so fucking cute I wanted to cry.

And now I'm like fffffffuuuuuuuck. Imagine I'm trying to date a girl who wants me when I'm having a reaction like this out of NOWHERE. Minding my own fucking business and then this guy strips his shirt off and suddenly my heart's doing a motherfucking cha-cha.

What the fuck, man. I cannot win. I can't kiss a man and I can't date a woman.

The loneliest fucking place in the whole wide world.

You know what Jesus? If you're coming tomorrow then come the fuck on because I'm quite done. This life you gave me is one tremendous clusterfuck and a total washout. Pretty fucking ridiculous fucking situation right here. You coming to get your faithful little perfect heterosexual angels, all fucking so merrily and having babies and getting married under your holy roof? Yes. Good. Take them and GO. All you and your people do is remind me of how UTTERLY FUCKED UP MY LIFE IS AND HOW THE FUCK MUCH I WISH I WERE FUCKING DEAD SO GOOD FUCKING JOB GOD, AND CONGRATU-FUCKING-LATIONS. AND THANKS FOR ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOTHING.


GrizzBabe said...

Big hug from a thousand miles away!

Me said...


Mad Alan was mad.

Too much pressure yesterday and I had to blow my stack. I'd surely would have got Left Behind today if there was a Rapture, but that's how I had to cope with it. Reject Him before he rejected me.

But I don't really reject him. I'm just mad at Him.

I am really so very mad at Him.


GrizzBabe said...

I think God can handle our anger. You have a lot to be angry about. I don't think God is going to begrudge you those feelings. It's okay (even healthy) to feel those feelings as deeply as you can.

In yesterday's sermon, my pastor told a story about Itzhak Perlman in which a string on his violin broke in the middle of his performance. Instead of stopping, he continued to make music, recomposing the piece as he went along to compensate for the missing string. At the end, and after a standing ovation, Itzhak said that sometimes the task of a musician is to learn how to make beautiful music with what you have.

Alan, you've had some shitty, shitty things happen to you. As a result, you're like Pearlman's violin, broken in places (hell, we all are). But you still have the capacity to make beautiful music with your life. In fact, you do so everyday. I pray that God continues to give you the grace to make beautiful music inspite of your broken places.

Me said...

That's good preaching right there, Grizz.

You're producing some hellaciously good music yourself, y'know that?

I was also taught that Satan was responsible for a lot of the shit in my (our) life, but I can't get ahold of him. I swear to fuck if only I could only get my fucking hands on that rotten sick son of a bitch. But I don't know what or where anything is anymore. I want to cry out to God, but there are so many versions of Him on so many tongues that I don't know what language to speak anymore.

I really love and thank you for these years of encouragement. On we go.