Becoming a Gay Adult

I called Tom last night…he'd not called for a while (we used to talk every night, but he'd been a bit distant since I got back from San Fran). He says we're not a match…and can we be friends? He did it very thoughtfully and kind as he always is, and I said yes…I was kinda numb, but I didn't act out and this morning it hit me like a wall of emotion and I cried like a baby almost all the way to the subway. On one hand it hurt like hell, on the other, I'm delighted to know that I have full access to my emotions: confusion, sadness, anger, hurt, but mostly deep mourning. It's all good. It means I'm not as callous as I sometimes think I am…I think as long as I have the support network I have, my heart will remain open to love, joy, and the other natural human emotions of sadness, grief, despair, desire, longing and all that. I'm definitely not going to grow old and bitter. I think though I'll need some time not talking to Tom for a bit, and from dating...

There is so much I want to say...by the way, this blogging is fun...like a virtual confessional that the world can receive and expunge. I saw WTC. Moving, and I'm crying and run into one of the Summer Associates from work on the floor and I'm softer, kinder and human with her. It was a tender exchange. The Hollis apartment is working out afterall. I'm hoping to move in August. What a big adult step for a gay HIV+ jamaican-american black man to take. I thought I'd be dead at 30, and 7 years later, I'm thinking of making a home for myself. Suddenly bars became boring and Bed Bath and Beyond compelling. Color schemes and Home Depot projects. Suddenly nesting. And I want a boyfriend to fit all of it...like an accessory. And now I get the whole marriage thing, and the 50% divorce rate. Kinder, softer, gentler world.