Reason for Living

The hall is quiet once again; everyone’s still in bed and I’m probably the only one up. Or at least it seems like that. I’ve been up since two-thirty this morning, when my roommate Blas was up, talking to one of his friends on his mobile phone about some foible of the computer game he was playing. Lately it’s been getting on my nerves since I’ve had to contend with him yelling out commands in Halo 2 over his microphone, or ceaselessly talking to one of his brothers or even his FATHER, who also happens to be something of a game buff. Mind you this happens on weeknights, often LATE weeknights, even in the early mornings. Sometimes, I think to myself, ‘Jeez, doesn’t Blas’ father have a job or something?’ I think ever since he brought his computer and his XBox I’ve had to deal with NOISE. Sometimes I’m compelled to ask him, ‘Hey man, don’t you have homework?’ And he’ll say no, or that he’s done it already, with an air of nonchalance. It’s also because of him that I’ve missed class. Actually this past week I went to all of my classes–something that I haven’t done since I really started school here. But I’ve found out just recently that things work themselves out, and for all its trials and tribulations I’m really enjoying school. Sometimes I like walking alone to class, and the precious time that entails in being able to gather my thoughts.

Aside from that, my personal life is rather nonexistent. I called Mom this morning to see how things were, and she said that my wonderful friend Joe from Utah had called to let me know that he’s okay. Joe has a brain tumor and probably will die if he continues to go untreated. To me, he’s the most courageous person I know. I take inspiration from him for everything. I love him just as much as I love Ryan, but it’s a different love. Originally we had started up as something of an extended relationship, something like a phone-sex relationship, but we’ve reached the point where I can tell him anything and he can tell me anything. Even during the break from Lubbock to here, we maintained a relationship. It was a good thing. I feel like this relationship was sent to me by God, to show me a lesson.

I’ve felt for some time that I haven’t been living in the now, not living fully, to put it more appropriately. I’ve always had to depend on people or things as crutches. And what a weight I’ve been on some. I still remember being stuck in those awful hotels those last few days back in Lubbock, and I remember thinking, ‘How am I supposed to pay Ryan back all the money I probably owe him? Of course, I was going out on a limb by asking him to help me, because he could have said no, but he didn’t, thank God. I was able to stay safe and sound because of him. He’s always told me to be more of a person–to be more loving, more giving, more adventurous. Part of me feels the response almost immediately–of course I want to go out there and do great things! I want to be somebody! But at the same time part of me feels the need to withdraw within, to hide and flee from challenge–from everything, really. I feel like somehow I’ve let alot of people down by selling myself short. This has manifested itself lately in a variety of circumstances (let’s not forget that particular one that almost cost me a really good friendship and ended up fucking it up seriously).

Patrick wrote me a wonderful letter back in August that codified his hopes and wishes for me. He was worried that I would just go ahead and quit school because I couldn’t afford to go.

Here’s how he put it:

Just remember that education is the door to bigger opportunities. You have an amazing potential to be something great. Given that you are already a great person, as so many are; but you truly hold the power to make that only one of many things on your resume. You have a powerful mind. I know you live and grew up in a difficult lifestyle. Bluntly, a lifestyle in quite contrast to mine. However, dreams and goals don’t have a lifestyle, they don’t have a class, or economic origin. I say all this because I don’t want you to ever lose hope of the wonderful dreams and goals that you have. I don’t want you to lose them simply because you think that you won’t be able to accomplish them. You know what? Money doesn’t matter. Do you want to go to school? Do you want to be someone great and do great things? Then that’s all the money you need. If it means paying for college until your dying day then let it be. I think that’s a common misconception people make. They feel that if they can’t fork out $ 30K a year for college that they can’t make it. That’s not true. Hopefully, you recognize this and take advantage of that fact.

It’s been awhile since I’ve heard from Patrick. The last I heard of him was back in August, when he sent the above letter. All I know is that he works for a state institution in Boston, Massachusetts. At Patrick’s absence I now come to conclusions. My life has always included people who just drop in and then suddenly leave, for little or no explanation whatsoever. I’ve been helped along the way by many passersby, who, upon seeing that I cannot carry my cross any further, take it up and carry it themselves. Like Simon of Cyrene. I don’t know why it happens. I wonder if anyone else feels the way I do. At the end of the day I feel somewhat lonesome, because of that fact. I hate it too, because then you think horrible things. With Patrick, he may have died, or moved, or simply have fallen off the face of the Earth. I don’t know. That’s the most heart-rending thing to think about for me, because then you begin to blame yourself for what might have happened. I still think that something I said might have provoked Patrick to just stop talking to me.

I’m confronted with these images and ideas all the time. There’s no real way of escaping them. Still, I feel like I feel this pressing need to live. I remember the night I was stuck in the hospital at Lubbock, the night I lost my mind. When I came to I turned on the TV and a French monologue theatre piece was being performed by a lone actress. It documented the letters that a mother wrote her son, who was serving with the Allied forces during World War II. The last letter recited by the actress was written as the Nazis were rounding up Jews to be sent off to the concentration camps. The last words of this letter struck me as brilliant and disturbing. ‘This is the last words your mother will ever write…Live! Live!’ Since then I don’t think I’ve been the same. It’s not just advice handed down from mother to son, it’s a mandate. It’s a command. It’s something with weight and bearing. It’s something I haven’t been doing.

So many other people I know have lives of their own. They work, they go places, they see the earth from high up and survey the land. I don’t know if I’m doing what I was intended to do. So far everyone I know has done something positive with their lives–has traveled, seen places, changing gears, while I feel like I’m still stuck where I am, doomed to stay here and fester for the remainder of my life. I’m isolated and neglected creatively, and it’s very rare to find someone that you can really bond with. The only person who does that lives back up in Lubbock (that’s Ryan), or in Boston (that’s Patrick), Utah (Joe) or California (Adrien). I can’t complain anymore. I’ve done enough of that. It’s not the fact that I have to fit in, or leave this place, because those two regions have been explored and haven’t produced much. Instead, I think what I need to do is just find my place in life, which has been very hard and has caused me a great deal of heartache over time. I may talk about how cool and groundbreaking it is to be out of the loop, but at the end of the day all I want to do is just belong somewhere. It’s something of a Catch-22, because to fit in, I would have to find somewhere where there are people like me, but at the same time that takes a lot of money. Not to mention chutzpah to say goodbye to all you love…again, in my case.

Pra Fugir da Saudade

I haven’t talked to Ryan in some time…last night was the first time that I’ve been able to have a normal sleep schedule. My roommate Blas stays up till something like two-thirty playing Halo 2, or any of the Lord of the Rings games, or watching a movie, or talking to his friends, or doing something else on his computer. I told him to turn it down but I don’t think he was listening…instead he had his little headset on and was talking to the boys that were playing along with him…obviously I didn’t appreciate him blaring his TV up to where I had a difficult time getting to sleep. So far that’s the only stone of contention between me and him. I really should have a talk with him soon, because I hate waking up five minutes before class and not being ready at all…

My struggle to finance my schooling continues. I have a loan out right now–we just took it out to prevent me from getting kicked out of the dorm. I have yet to turn into the application, since I’ve been so busy. I wake up kinda early now, bathe, put on my clothes for the day, and then go to class. By the time I come home I’m so beat I just fall asleep. The whole cycle repeats itself the next night. Oh well, at least I’m not staying up all night. I think the trip home last weekend did the trick.

I’ve been thinking about where Ryan and me stand–where our relationship is going and where we’ve been. The thing that bothers me is that because of all the above problems I haven’t been able to go to the gym at all, and I’ve been promising Ryan that I would get nice and buff for him whenever he comes down to see me. All this time I’ve been telling him that I’m getting to my fitness goal, but I haven’t been actually able to complete the goal, period. So I think I’ll go back to the gym; I think I’ll go running today. I need to organize my time in a fashion that fits my schedule. I also noticed that whenever I went running or lifting I was able to sleep better. So I think I’ll do that. I need to do this for Ryan–not so that he’ll stay around, or for the fact that I want him to like me more (although those are good reasons alone), it’s because I want to be healthy for him. I think I owe it to everyone who loves me that I be the best person I can be. All this time I’ve just been settling for less. I think that’s my mistake in life. He tells me that he likes me just the way I am, but I think I need to be someone that’s able to keep up with him.

I just recently found out, by the way, that I’ve been in love with Ryan for some time now. But then again, I really didn’t need to find that out on my own. I think it was obvious. I’ve always known that Ryan and I have something, and I’m willing to work hard and be especially vigilant so that this thing can last. It’s hard sometimes because I’m so let down by the rest of the world–people and places and things and ideas–but at the end of the day these things don’t matter.

I think I’ve also come to the conclusion that I don’t need certain people anymore, like I used to. Like Chris in Odessa. I already knew that he and I were so incompatible; every time I would talk to him about something he would just sit there and listen, and not say anything. So I’m done with him. I hope he’s happy. I figure since I’m probably never going to return to that part of Texas ever, what would be the point? I’m so done with leading people on into things they couldn’t handle. There’s so much of a possibility of lying to someone. So I’m not going to do it anymore. I’ve already discovered that it really doesn’t do anything to me anymore, not like it used to. I think it isolates me more, which I think satisfies a part of me that has always liked to be apart from anyone else.

Meanwhile, other things keep on developing and continuing. I have my first recital here on the 11th; I’m in the choir and we’re doing selections from Handel’s Samson. Some of the pieces are some of the most harmonically challenging ones I’ve ever sung. Yet others in the ensemble seem to find them easy, and even enjoyable. I must admit that I do enjoy singing, but I can’t keep up. Yesterday I said to one of my colleagues that I felt like quitting the choir. I don’t know if anyone heard. I’ll have to speak to my professor about it. I’m probably sure I’m failing the class as it is, no matter how much Dr. Munn tells me that I am not. The other thing that really disturbs me about the choir is that almost everyone has some sort of diva complex within them. Which, I think, is predictable. But I keep on getting dirty looks from the sopranos and of course those in my own group. I’m not even considered to be a real artist in the class, or so I’ve heard. I really don’t care anymore. If people feel that way, so be it. I’ve gotten adjusted to the fact that people are naturally going to classify me as different. And of course this doesn’t bother me anymore; in fact, I get a great deal of pleasure out of it. Let people talk. I’m not bothered by them and their opinions at all.

Chacho and Amado are doing well; when I’ve seen them, they have told me that they have no complaints. I’ve been spending more time, though with Derek and Chris. I like the boys because they are so responsive. Usually as a last act before I retire, I tuck them in. Actually, I tuck Derek in more than I do Chris, because he works late. But almost every time I tuck him in Derek tells me he feels ‘loved’, which makes me feel like I’m doing something right. I think it’s good because I think the boys need more of a positive male presence in their lives. I’ve always been someone who listens, observes and then works from those two parallels. So it’s not necessarily that I need to continuously follow them around, but I do think it’s essential that the boys have someone they can turn to when they need help.

I’ve become aware that I’m probably never going to fit in with anything normal or conventional. I think I’ve just learned to accept that fact and live with it. There are some times that I do wish I was straight so that I could experience things like straight love and relationships. But then I think that would be cheating at life. I’ve come this far and have realized that it’s good to be different. It’s good not to be a part of anything; it’s good to recognize one’s own individuality and to cherish it. I think being gay is a good thing, but the mainstream world of clubs, parties and political organizations isn’t for me. I figure since everyone else has done it, there’s no point in reinventing the world. One of the RAs here asked me if I went to the local gay bar here. I told her, ‘that world isn’t for me.’ And it really isn’t, just because having experienced things that comprise the world, I’ve come to the conclusion that there’s no place for me there. So I have to compose a world of my own. I think that’s a more appropriate way of putting it.

I have everything I want now: I’m at a good school, I have friends, and I have someone who loves me for who I am (finally!). I wonder why I feel like I have to have more, or perhaps more appropriately, why I feel so unsatisfied by things. It’s something I’ll definitely have to explore in the future. I feel like I have left things somewhat unresolved.