The Truth About Heaven

I have a few confessions. They are necessary to understand who I am and I've only just realized how important that is.
I'm bipolar. I'm a smoker. Half the time when I drink, its because I feel numb. I'm suicidal. I'm a cutter. I don't know what I want in life. I fall in love too fast. I hate too easily. I'm not half the man I pretend to be. I may act confident, but you could kill me with two words. I'm emotional. I have commitment issues. I'm dramatic. I over-state things. I don't care enough. I love too much.
What brought this on, you ask? Number 7: I fall in love too fast. Oh, I may not have loved you. No, not yet. But I would have. I did everything I could to help you. I said everything I knew to make you feel better. I spent a month trying to meet you, but in the end you fucked it up.
Its not just your fault that this ended. But I would be lying if I took all the blame. You're scared of a good thing. You think running home will help you. It might. But what happens when you realize that running only delayed the problem?
I never said I was perfect and I never will. I told you, I'm just as fucked up as you are. You didn't believe me. Well, you sure as fuck do now, huh? If I knew where you lived, I would walk there right now, take you in my arms and tell you that its all gonna be okay. But this isn't a movie, is it?
I'm sorry for what I said but I meant a lot of it. You need to realize that. I hope one day you do. I hope you find your way home. I hope you get to see your brother. I hope you find someone. I hope you realize that you're not 'okay' with being in the closet. I hope that one day you find peace and happiness. I won't be here waiting. But I will be thinking of you.
You're gone from my life. Is that good enough for them?
"Wipe the mud stains from your face,
Stop the engine, Stop pretending.
Wipe the mud spray from your face,
Stop the engine, Stop pretending that you're still breathing."

Cop Cars, Cigarettes and a Parking Garage

It's been a while since I've posted. I've been studying non-stop for my Math Final, so I haven't really had time to update. My apologies. However, today's blog is something that took a lot of time to think about. Yet again, I need to introduce someone to set the stage. Enter Little Bunny.

To start off, I have to renege something that I stated in an earlier post. I love you Alexis, but I lied when I said you know the most about me. In all actuality, Little Bunny does. Now Little Bunny isn't her real name, it's what her parents used to call her. Her real name is Lily and she knows me heart and soul.

Lily and I met our senior year of high school. In reality we probably had met before that, but neither of us remembers whether we did or not. We were chosen to lead a retreat for part of our senior class and things just kind of went from there. I was pretty skeptical about her at first. Why?

Well, Lily is a very cynical person. She sees and comments on things as they are, not as other people would like them to be. In her words, she's a realist. She doesn't sugar coat things, she takes and sees things at face value. Nothing more, nothing less. It's kind of unnerving and a lot of people think she's a bitch because of it. That's exactly the reason she is one of my best friends in the entire world.

The first time we really talked was after school one day. I literally had a foot in the door of my car when she came up to me and started blathering on about something with our leader group. To this day I can't remember what we talked about for the hour and a half that we stood next to my car. All I know is that I left that parking lot hoping that we would become friends and stay close. Boy did I get that wish.

Lily understands me in a way that no other person can. See, deep down I'm really a very cynical and judgmental person. I'm not judgmental where I automatically assume things about people and treat them differently because of it. I'm judgmental in the sense that I look at every occurrence, person and thing in my life and compare them to everything else in my life. I see things for what they are and I'm not afraid to analyze them at a base level. Lily is the same frickin way. I adore that about her. Which brings me, FINALLY, to tonight's topic: bitching.

I love to bitch about things. It helps me analyze something and it helps me deal with life. Again, Lily is the same way. We don't sugar coat things. If I fucked something up, I don't say that I messed up but it's still fine. I fucked up. It's as simple as that. We're blunt. I may not be like that outwardly to everyone for fear of losing people. However, in my mind, I'm analyzing everything and comparing it to everything else.

In the past 6 months, my life was turned completely upside down. For those that know me, you probably recognized this. For those that don't know me that well, let's just say that this was probably the worst year of my entire life. And through all of it, one of the few ways I found to cope with it was bitching to Lily. If I'm being stupid about something, she's not afraid to tell me that to my face and vice verse. Obviously she's going to be tactful, but she's not gonna sugarcoat it and tell me it was all someone else's fault. But that's enough of me convincing you that Lily is awesome.

Now for the part you're probably here for. Does this make me gay? Does needing to bitch about my problems to someone else add gay points? Possibly. Most guys are content just kind of holding things in, or maybe taking them out by playing a sport or shooting something or some such thing. I, however, feel the need to analyze my life and compare it to the world, with my best friend Lily. When you look at it that way, I think it does give me some gay points. If I was a MAN (grunt-spit-snort-chest bump-punch a wall), then I would keep it to myself and let my rage out in a physical way. Fuck that.

I wouldn't trade my coping method for the world. Lily S, I love you with all my heart. I am so glad that Kairos brought us together and I'm even happier that I have found a best friend in you. I can't even put in to words how much you mean to me. If I ever lost you, I don't think life would be worth living, mostly because I wouldn't have anyone to bitch with. And, surprise, today is your birthday. Another year and we can go get trashed at a bar while fawning over whatever pancakes happen to be in the vicinity. Regardless, I love you Little Bunny. Thanks for everything.

Peace Bro.

One Step At A Time

I really should have written this post yesterday, but my internet was out, so I'm catching up now.

There are three things in my life that I am totally, completely and undeniably in love with: love, music and driving. ...Jesus, listen to me. "I love, love." I sound like Jack McFarland. Blech. Anyway. Those three things make up the majority of who I am these days. I mean technically the love part is debatable, but whatevs.

Driving is my ultimate escape. Give me a car and a full tank of gas, and I will show you the full spectrum of who I am, emotions and all. I rarely have a destination when I'm driving. Sure, I may know whether I'm going to drive Old Spanish or Gates Pass, but I don't necessarily have an endpoint for my excursion. It's hard to explain. Most people think of driving as a bore, as something that is unavoidable and ultimately grueling. I would rather drive cross-country than fly. I have had more spiritual, mental and emotional revelations driving the streets of Tucson at 4am than I have ever had in a classroom or a church or even in nature.

Of course, my driving expeditions wouldn't be complete without music. I'm not even going to get into what music I listen to because I would wind up with at least ten pages. But music means a lot to me. I connect with it. I can't play anything and I can't sing for shit. Regardless, music touches something in my soul that I can only describe as a feeling of pure joy. I can't even put it into words that will do it justice. Suffice it to say, I have no fewer than 5 songs going in my head at any given moment. Every song I like connects to my life, and every moment in life has a song attached to it. That a good enough description?

So last night, I decided it was time for a drive. I hadn't had any Hank time for about a week with everything that I've been doing. I hopped in my Jeep, cranked the tunes and took off. One of my favorite places to go in Tucson is a place I've come to call the Lookout. It has so many memories attached to it, both good and bad. Basically, my first boyfriend, Danny had dubbed it the Lookout because you can 'look out' over most of Tucson from it. So whenever I go there, no matter how beautiful it is, I am reminded of Danny.

I guess I should explain Danny. He was my first boyfriend. We met in high school and I spent the better part of a year following Danny's path of... we'll call it destruction. I was head over heels for Danny, but as I wasn't out yet, I kept him from everyone that didn't already know him. So all of my friends, all of my family, everyone. Over the time that we spent together, Danny confronted the fact that he was gay, ironically by allowing his friends to beat me up, physically and verbally, for being gay. We broke up multiple times, but I knew he was good deep down, so we got back together. Long story short, Danny moved to Cali, developed a drug problem, ruined his life and we haven't talked in about 3 months now. And I am completely fine with that.

Anyway, last night I decided to drive to the Lookout. En route, "Get It Right" from Glee came on. Gay moment. I am hopelessly and ridiculously in love with Glee. I don't care if that makes me gay, I love it. I know all the songs, can quote parts of it, and fan-girl over certain things. Guilty. I guess I love it so much because they put so many songs into real life situations and I connect with that. Take "Get It Right." 'Can I start again, with my faith shaken, cause I can't go back and undo this.' I feel like that line was written for my life.

So picture me, a 5'10, 240lbs white guy, speeding at 60 mph down a 40 mph road, in a white Jeep Cherokee. I'm jammin to Parkway Drive when Glee comes on. Do I change it because 'that music is so gay?' No. I turn it up even louder. I roll my windows down, let the rain soak my shirt and my seats. I let my tears flow freely and I belt it out right along with Lea Michele. Yes, I sing along to Glee in my care with the windows open. And no, I usually don't sing the guy parts. The girl parts have so much more emotion!

Like that picture I just painted for you? Well I sure do. And I won't deny it to anyone. I would rather be seen crying along to some girly song to get my pain out than get caught vandalizing a school any day. For one, there aren't any laws against singing poorly. But more importantly, singing my problems out allow me to feel the emotions and analyze them as I pass them by. I guess music, whether I'm singing to it or just letting it fill my ears, is therapeutic to me. When I'm surrounded by a song that I connect to, the world makes sense, even if its just for those 3 short minutes.

I guess my point here is that while some might accuse me of being gay for sobbing along to an Adele or Avril Lavigne song, I don't really give a fuck. It helps me. If you haven't caught on, or if you haven't met me, allow me to let you in on a little secret: I'm one fucked up kid. We won't even get into the why's, just take my word for it. I may be sensitive about a lot of things that I do that could classify me as gay, but music is not one of them. I'm here, I'm queer, I can't sing, and... deal with it? Yeah I can't rhyme. Hence why I have no musical talent.

In conclusion... yeah I'm writing a research paper here. Hadn't you noticed? In conclusion, I love music. I love music in my car, in my head, coming through my headphones, coming through speakers, wherever, whenever. I just love it. I feel music, whereas most people just hear it. If that makes me gay, so be it. You can take your judgements while I take my little piece of heaven. I'm cool with that.

"You're so cold, keep your hand in mine."
Miss you Popsicle.

NSA

NSA. Know what that means? No Strings Attached. Accordingly, tonight's blog is actually based on the movie of the same name. Ironic? Eh, not really. I like to think I'm cool and witty but I'm really just plain old awesome.

This movie is an oddity to me. For those of you who haven't seen it, SPOILER ALERT. Emma is a doctor in training who says she has no time for a relationship. Adam is the beautiful Ashton Kutcher, a guy who is head over heels in love with Emma. They decide, to Adam's dismay, to have a purely physical relationship. This goes on for awhile until Adam starts to realize he can't do just physical. He tries to morph it into a relationship, but Emma blows him off. Eventually, Emma realizes that she loves Adam too and everything ends up hunky-dory. Blah, blah, frickety blah.

Basically, the entire movie is based on the theory that hook-ups don't hurt anyone, as long as both sides realize that it’s just a hook-up. Theoretically, this could work, if we didn't take human emotion into account. So why do so many people attempt this lifestyle? Particularly gay men? Do they do it because they want to avoid getting hurt? Do they do it because they want to experience life? Or do they do it just because they're horny?

I have a theory. Gay men, in general, are scared of what it means to be in a relationship. They're scared of the commitment, scared of having to worry about someone else, scared of rejection. Fear is what keeps most gay men from being in a relationship. So hook-ups abound, as they are the perfect solution to this problem. They require very little thought, everyone (hopefully) gets their rocks off, and there are no rules about who has to call whom in the morning. No commitment, no fear, no anything.

Hook-ups are not good for me. I'm not gonna go on here and brag about my sex life, but I've had my fair share of them. And I've realized that they are horrible for me. Sex requires emotion, passion, and commitment to me. I want to know that the person I'm with feels something other than the physical satisfaction of getting off. Does that make me gay? Maybe. One of my favorite lines from a Steely Dan song perfectly describes how I want to feel during sex. "Tell me I'm the only one." It's selfish, it's girly. But it’s what I want. I want to know that the guy lying next to me is focused on me and just me.

Enter Justin. See, I told you we were going to talk about him a lot. But I'm not here to bitch about him. I'm here to use him as an example. So Justin. I met Justin on a site for gay men, sort of akin to Match.com. However, the site was mostly for guys looking to hook up. I was fine with finding someone for sex, but I really just wanted to connect with someone. Ideally, I wanted a boyfriend. Justin and I met, and our relationship, as it were, went on from there.

I told him that I wanted to be with him, as his boyfriend, after the first time we hooked up. He avoided it and said he "didn't know how to be a boyfriend." He didn't know what to do and what it entailed. I accepted it. I accepted it the next 3 times as well. Then I realized that we were never going to be anything more than friends with benefits. There really were going to be no strings attached in this relationship. And I told myself I was okay with that. All of my other gay friends did it. They slept around and felt nothing. They woke up the next morning, satisfied and ready to find the next new hook-up.

Why couldn't I do it? I like to think that it's because I care about people on a more emotional level. I'm not saying that all gay men are emotionally deficient. I'm just saying that for me, its virtually impossible to have the physical without the emotional. I just can't do it. I thought with Justin that I could cut the emotional out and just live in the moment, but I can't. Does this make me straight? No. It makes me different from most gay men, but it makes me who I am. Maybe I'm going to spend half my life looking for a guy that wants both the physical and the emotional. But I'm okay with that.

No Strings Attached proves to me, personally, that a purely physical relationship is impossible. I need something more in my life, as did Emma, even though she thought she didn't. I guess I'm willing to suffer through the heartbreak and the lonely days until I find someone that wants the same things I do. But until that day comes, I'm gonna bitch and moan and complain. Those of you out there that suffer through it, thanks. I love you guys.

So yeah. It's 3 in the morning and I have to be up for class in 6 hours. Bed time, methinks.

Peace out.

Being myself in a world of hate

                Well hey there, all 6 of my loyal readers. How goes it? Sorry I haven’t posted in forever. It’s been a crazy busy few weeks and to be honest, I’ve been a little uninspired. But then I watched one of my favorite episodes of Will and Grace. It was like the heavens opened up and said, “Hank, take this gift, that you may write of your life and make merry.” Anyway, I found my inspiration.

                Today’s entry focuses on being gay. Really, it covers being open about being gay, but overall it encompasses being gay too. In this episode, Will takes Jack, his extremely flamboyant best friend, to his new gym. Jack acts his like normal, attention grabbing, man chasing self. This frustrates Will because he has clients that go to this gym, and not all of them know he is gay. At one point we see Will talking to Grace about it, and he says that sometimes, Jack is such a fag. Of course, this being a TV show, Jack over hears and confronts Will about it.

                Okay so first off, yes, I used the F word. Forgive me. I’m just repeating what someone on TV said. Don’t hurt me. But the more important part, this episode really hit home with me. Later on, Will talks to Grace about it and she confirms Jack’s observation that there are about “25 Will Truman’s”. That is, Will has many different masks that he wears when out and about. After thinking about it, I realized I’m the exact same way. No, I don’t deny my sexuality, but I don’t necessarily put it out there in certain situations.

                Why? Maybe I’m scared. I don’t like rejection, so maybe I’m protecting myself from that. I think that in reality, I don’t want to be judged on the spot. If I tell someone I’m gay, they are automatically going to assume things about me, and now my relationship with that person, even if it’s just an acquaintance, changes forever. Scary, right?

                I’m not ashamed of my sexuality. I am proud to be a gay man in this day and age. If I was given the choice to become straight, I would still choose to remain gay. That doesn’t mean that I’m not scared sometimes. I may not flaunt my sexuality, but I never hide it. I’m not that bad. I’m not like Will in the overall sense, but I can definitely see where he was coming from. And you would be surprised by the number of gay men that hate me for saying that. Call it cowardice, a defense mechanism, or just plain denial. No matter what you see it as, it’s a personal choice. I choose to live my life how I see fit. I may not wear my sexuality on my sleeve, but I will never, ever hide it or lie about it. That is not who I am. Take me or leave me. See, a Rent reference! I really am gay!

                Now that that’s over, I want to address something: the F word that I used earlier. I do not condone, like, support, or accept the use of the word Fag, in any way shape or form. I think that it is a word filled with hate and this is designed solely to undermine the strength of the gay community. Remember our friend Justin we talked about earlier? Would you believe me if I told you he called me one? Maybe he called me one indirectly, but the meaning was still there.

                We were on a walk one night. I clearly didn’t want Justin with me, but he wouldn’t take a hint so I let him follow me. My walks around campus are erratic at best. I walk where my head takes me and move where my feet direct me. I almost always wind up walking through North campus at some point. So, I decided to walk to North campus. Justin asked me where we were going. When I told him, he said, “Ew, North campus? That’s where all the fags go.” I was floored. Here he was, a bisexual man, using that hate filled word to describe me, the guy he was sleeping with? My confusion quickly turned to rage. I told him that if he ever called me that again that I would promptly punch him in the face. I continued walking towards North campus. Justin didn’t continue with me.

                When I got back to my room, I confronted Justin. I told him that until he has been called a fag for kissing his boyfriend in public, and until he has been called a fag for supporting gay rights, and until he has been beaten up and called a fag for holding hands with a guy, he cannot use that word. Only once he has felt the fear associated with that word, can he rightfully use that word. He responded that if I punched him in the face, he would call the cops on me.

                I could accept that, but what I couldn’t accept was the fact that the man I was sleeping with had just defended calling me a fag. Wait, correction. The boy I was sleeping with. Justin is not a man. He is a fucking boy. ANYway. I was pissed to say the least. He then proceeded to tell me that it was just a word and that I shouldn’t take it personally. Fuck that.

                In short, I HATE the word fag. I do not tolerate it at all. Maybe the gay community is trying to take it back. I don’t think so. I think that us saying we’re taking it back basically means that we’re so scared of it, but we’re so desperate to fit in that we’ll use a hate word for our friends and family.

                Just some thoughts. It’s taken me a long time to get to where I am. It took 4 years for me to accept myself for who I am. Forgive me if I am a little quick to defend my personal choices and my views on what constitutes hate and fear.

But yeah. Have an awesome Monday and hopefully I’ll be posting again later this week.

Deuces.

An Introduction of Two

So, post numero dos. Today's installment centers around an episode of Will and Grace. You'll find that a lot of my gay moments come from this show. I guess I feel like I can be myself while I'm watching it. We'll explore that more later on, trust me. But now for the real reason we're here.

On this episode, Will's ex shows up, Will thinks he's getting some signals from him, and confronts him about it. SPOILER ALERT, it's all in Will's head. Michael is seeing someone who, by the way, is fucking gorgeous. He then goes running to Grace and tells her about it. Come to find out, she had known about it the whole time. And Michael had started seeing this guy just 2 months after he and Will broke up.

How do I find a gay moment in this? Well, that requires me to introduce the first of many major figures in my life. Alexis, while being many things, is a musician. She is hella talented, she's crazy as fuck, weird, rambling, smart, funny, clumsy, and she's my soulmate. I realized a few months ago that she probably knows more about me than a lot of people do. I don't tell my full life story to anyone, but she probably has the most pieces. And because of that,  trust her implicitly.

Now to tie this into the blog. Character number 2 in my life is someone that we will name Justin. No, his name isn't actually Justin, though a few people may get the joke of why I'm calling him that. I fell head over heels for Justin. It's as simple as that, but its also far more complicated. Justin liked me as a friend but nothing more. Shit happened and I wound up getting hurt because of it. But I won't ramble on that. You'll hear more about it later, I can guarantee.

Anyway, in this episode, I guess I really identified with Will because a couple of months ago I found out that Justin had been sort of seeing another guy, just a few weeks after we had a huge falling out. And the guy he was sort of seeing was everything that I had thought Justin didn't like. And when I told Alexis about it, she told me she had already known, but didn't know how to tell me.

At first I was hurt and pissed. But I came to realize that there really was no way for her to tell me without me getting hurt and even more pissed off. How do you tell one of your best friends that the man he loves is becoming involved with someone else that personifies everything you're not? The ironic part? This other man is one of Alexis' really good friends. This is my life. Didn't you know?

So is this a gay moment in my life? After writing this, I'm torn on whether it is or not. I dare you to find someone that wouldn't be hurt with this situation. But in that same vein, I do believe that my emotions got the best of me in my outward reaction to the situation. Does portraying emotion make me gay? No it doesn't, but I don't know many straight guys that are as emotional as I am. Hence my hesitance to call this a gay or not-gay moment.

Well that was a trip, wasn't it? Yeah. It's only my second post, so forgive me if I'm rambling. But I needed to get that out there. I was just so surprised by how similar my life is to this show. You'll hear more about it later, trust me. This show is like Alexis and I wrapped into a neat, re-watchable, plastic package. Ugh.

And Justin, if you're reading this? I'm sorry that I've been a dick lately. I won't lie to you and say I'm over you. I would like nothing more at this moment than to drive to your house and light your car on fire while belting "Bust Your Windows" (the Glee version of course, duh). But I can't and will not do that. I may hate you right now, but you're living your life and that's all that matters. Just know that I miss you and I want to look back on this someday with you and laugh at how stupid we were. For now though, I'll fall asleep dreaming of me singing that to you with Alexis, Katie M and J-Hop in the background, dancing with their microphones, looking fierce as fuck.

Yeah.

Part 1

Ever seen Sixteen Candles? If you answered "no" to this question, you need to get off this blog and go rent that shit. It's seriously one of the best movies ever made, in my humble opinion. Anyway, now that that's over...

As I was watching Sixteen Candles for the second time in 24 hours, I was stunned by Sam's actions in the movie. Not so much the fact that she acted like that, but by the fact that I acted that way too. Could I, in fact, be that gay? It's no secret to my friends that I prefer outdoor plumbing versus indoor, but I normally consider myself pretty macho acting. But I'm realizing that behind closed doors, I'm not all that butch all the time.

Take tonight's viewing of Sixteen Candle, for instance. About a third of the way through the movie, Sam is debating what she should say to Jake when she finally talks to him. The more I thought about it, I realized that I do that exact same thing. But I take it a step further by mimicking the other guys voice in a different timbre than mine... Yeah. Take that image in your head and save it. Might bring you some laughs later.

So what's the point here? Well, the point is that while I am a gay man that doesn't necessarily act like a gay man in public, the gloves are off, so to speak, when no one is around to see me. This blog will hopefully help me identify those moments not only for my future reference, but for your enjoyment. Call it masochistic, but the idea of people finding humor in my mannerisms isn't too frightening. Maybe I just want to blog. Who cares? If you've read this far, obviously you're intrigued. And if you keep reading from here on out, I've done my job. I just hope that this is all as funny to you as it is to me.

Deuces.