clandestine.
today i daydreamed of sex. more specifically... all the places i'd like to have sex.

- on a bus/train/plane... in the seats. ok yes. so this is most likely not going to be penetrative sex. that is alright with me. this fantasy got hotter when an episode of the l-word started with two nuns fingering each other on a bus with other nuns sleeping. ok. it was hot besides the nun bit.

- in a huge flouffy bed... one of those old victorian babies.

- on a waterbed. simple enough, no?

- in the ocean. in the day.

- in the bathtub.

- in the middle of a country road. on the yellow line. at night. under stars.

- on a cottage dock. at night. under stars.

- in the bathroom during a concert.

- you know where i have never wanted to have sex? on the beach. sand all up in my business... i guess the sound of the waves might be nice... but i really like peanut butter and you don't see me having sex in a tub of that. so... bad analogy... but either way you look at it... sand in orifices = bad.

- in a cornfield. in the rain. this one is inspired by "match point"... god that was hot.

- in an alley. quick.

i am exhausting myself here. the possibilities are endless.

parade.
i have always been afraid of what i may become.

i used to be afraid of being gay. i remember sharing this childhood fear with my mom. it was a fear that once consumed my little head. my instincts told me that being gay would just make life harder. i was aware then... before i was aware of what being gay meant or even of what being straight meant. i knew life was going to be rough no matter what and i feared a choice/inclination that would make it harder.

i used to be afraid that my body would never catch up to my feet. that i would forever be ashamed of my shoe size. i used to be afraid that i would never grow boobs or start menstruating. it all came so slow for me.

i used to be afraid that i would not make it out of the drinking and smoking high school years. that my peers would swallow me whole. during those years, i saw a lot my peers as holding me back. i was afraid i would never meet anyone to pull me out of that world.

i used to be afraid that i would become what you insisted i was. i used to hide this fear. i now realize i could never be that. i am that. and i can never be that. all at once.

i used to be afraid that i would repeat a pattern. that i would apply what i saw to my own relationships. i'm still afraid. consciously afraid.

i used to be afraid that i would never love again. that i would spend the rest of my life chasing our relationship in different forms. i successfully overcame this fear by falling in love again. in a different love.

"who wants to fall in love just once?" i didnt. but now i'm afraid. afraid that i don't feel that way anymore. that i've lost that flippant attitude... and instead... my heart may insist on holding on to any love i can find. i'm afraid i will become someone i hate because of this.

i used to be crippled by the fear of growing up. for as long as i can remember, my biggest fear has always been growing old. even as a child, i felt the shadow of age creeping up on my young flesh. i've always felt it. i'm afraid of what i will inevitably become.

i got no one left to mourn for me.
in class, we discussed narratives in men's and women's magazines. a boy spoke up and explained that in women's magazines, "getting and keeping a man" equals success. a woman is deemed successful if she gets the man. this is clearly nothing extremely eye-opening... one only needs to glance over the covers of women's magazines to see that. but the way he phrased it made me reflect on my own experiences. he went on to explain that in men's magazines, the narrative was quite different. a woman was not the definition of a successful man... she validated his achieved success. having a woman on your arm, as a man, did not MAKE you successful... it was a marker that you were successful.

i relate to this. when i "have a man," i feel a content that no other achievement gives me. i don't know what this has to do with cultural narratives... but i'm willing to assume it might have a lot to do with them. when i have a man... it is then that i am most motivated in other areas of my life. its like having a man really does make me feel successful... successful enough to feel confident in all other relationships/pursuits/etc.

and... in all honesty... i see it. i see guys i know that do not have this same feeling. i see guys who have it all together... and treat the girl like icing on the cake. she is something that fits ontop of everything else in his life. she is of course still appreciated, loved, etc... after all, cake without icing is surely not as tasty... but its still cake.

making sense? no? well... i'm still reflecting. i guess i was aware of all of this before... but right now its just seeming incredibly fucked.

which brings me to something else... i feel like lately i have become hyper-sensitive to things that i have been exposed to before. i have been breaking down when confronted with them. i have been crying over my coursepacks... in movie theatres... on the bus. seeing things i always see... reading things i always read... but lately... i've been GETTING them. i'm not complaining... i love it. i love when i can let domestic violence statistics bring me to tears... when a movie about queers coming out in the third world can have me holding back sobs... is it crazy to think that all of this... this emotional momentum... may lead me to something great? because thats what i feel like.

safe again.
sometimes i let myself stop. just stop. and let the feeling of existing overwhelm me. tonight, i am overcome by how i came to be at the place i am right now. everything. am i happy here? there are things i wish i could change emotionally... i romanticize the past me... she used to be stronger... didn't she? more sure? i don't remember loneliness like its present incarnations... strange how i was never this lonely until i fell in love for the first time... and then became seemingly incapable of feeling completely whole ever again.

i went body-surfing for the first time over a decade ago on a family vacation in bermuda. i can remember my dad and sister in the ocean with me... laughing, jumping... the excitement of a big wave coming up... seeing how long you could balance with it... letting it carry you... then i felt something i had never experienced before. and it shocked my system. it was the first time i felt a force overpower my limbs like that. it grabbed hold of me and flung me about. i remember the sand swirling everywhere... i can still taste the gulps of salt water... i panicked. underwater right there, i understood what it felt like to believe that i wasn't ever going to breathe again. i was disorientated... unable to figure out which way was up and which way was the ocean floor. the split second it took me to find my way above water stretched out for an eternity.

but i made it back up. i remember swallowing air again. no one had noticed my brief absence. my sister was still laughing... my dad riding waves. my little shaken body made its way over to his confident one... and i managed to replay my experience. he nodded knowingly and simply said... "that was the undertow."

the ex factor.
i would never describe myself as a jealous person. when i list off some of my less than ideal qualities... jealousy is just not something i put on the list. but... there is a certain kind of jealousy that has the ability to jump on my back and claw at me like a hungry tiger. and that is the jealousy i feel towards your ex. i hate exes. i just can't deal with them. i don't mind hearing about them in past relationships... but please... don't stay friends with them. i don't need to hear about them in their future incarnation. hell. they shouldn't have a future incarnation. for my sake. especially if they are attractive in the way that i can never be. when they are naturally flawless in that way that makes it impossible to hate them. please spare us both the trouble that i will cause when i start to get jealous. i'm trying not to mention it. i really am. but if we refer to my last post... the odds are that i will soon let my insecurities spring loose like a bullet to your face. and i pray to god you know what to say to calm me. to reassure me. but i think its safe to conclude that you won't. that you can't. because i haven't even figured out what i need to hear.