Memory

I remember nights when I would run between the front porch and the kitchen floor, because my cell phone battery was terribly bad and I wanted to sit out and look up at stars and wonder if you were watching them, too.  I wanted not to disturb my roommates with the hours and hours of wonderful conversation, I wanted to feel the warmth of the night and think of things that were somewhat foreign and different from my usual place because you were foreign and different from my usual friends.  And so, when the battery was low, I would scuttle through the living room into the kitchen and lay on the floor next to the bathroom ignoring my roommates who laughed and smiled at me as I talked to you.  Rich would roll his eyes in mock disgust at the fact that everyday when he got home from work his drinking partner was lying on the floor talking to some girl…the Georgia Peach.  I did this also because Greg was rivetted to the screen of my new computer and the new computer game WOW and when you signed up to play it with me my heart skipped so many beats that even I couldn’t count.  Here is the one.

I remember Greg confused that a package arrived for someone named "Owen the Bowman."  I remember Monte wondering who the heck this female night elf was I was running off with to help when it certainly didn’t do me any good.  Ha.  No good my ass.  It was EVERYTHING.  It meant EVERYTHING.  I remember going to movies and feeling them a little less without you there and thinking about the time that I get to hold your hand in a movie theater and watch these movies and drive home with you to talk about them.  And everywhere I ate that I liked I thought, here is where I shall take her and make the memory better.  It wasn’t the place, it wasn’t the thing, it was you being a part of it.

We talked a lot.  You satellited my house and I pretended to be creeped out but all I wanted was for you to see it and see me.  Let her come into my life I prayed.  I called us kismet because of our coincidences, I called us kismet because of how great you made me feel, excited and renewed and delighted and beloved and wonderful.  And you told me that you wanted to be everything I needed, that you wanted to give to me the love that I so desperately was searching for and so deeply believed existed.  And I told you I was broken and had no faith and you said that I could be fixed and to give you it.  And so I gave you all the faith I could muster.  There was doubt in me about you, I couldn’t shake it.  But it was so small.  So so so so so much smaller than I probably made it seem, because I’m genuine and honest constantly and will tell people everything no matter what because I would rather them know than to have them not know and be lost. 

You didn’t come out for my birthday and I was crushed.  But I don’t think I really made it known how much you meant to me that I could rebound from it the way I did.  Things like that are deal breakers with me, and I didn’t break the deal.  I didn’t because I knew that if you could have, if there wasn’t something that was really important stopping you, you would have.  And you didn’t make it out in August for the same reasons.  So I came to you.  You helped pay for everything and I came to you to see you.  I saw you in the airport and pretended not to notice and played the slightest of games with you (which I have been so constant in saying I never would) because I was excited, and elated, and I wanted to see something about you and it was there.  You couldn’t restrain yourself, you had to come over and I knew then that you were as excited about me as I was about you.  I had a terrible terrible headache.  I will say unabashedly and without reserve that it was the worst headache of my entire life.  Steak-n-Shake was horrible, too, but it wasn’t horrible at all.  It’s just what human beings do, they latch onto things and they talk about them in the moment and it’s only afterwards, when they sit down and reflect calmly over everything that they can say: yes, then it hurt, but now I don’t think of it that way.  I don’t think of the hurt of the headache or the crappy fries and burger though I do remember it as part of the experience.  What I remember is you sitting across from me and me screaming at myself inside to say beautiful charming things, fuck the headache Brad, here she is.  HERE SHE IS!  The plane ride was the journey into a place I wasn’t familiar with and didn’ t like at the time to find the greatest thing of my life.  That opening meal and the headache is a pitiful toll to pay for getting to be with you.

And I don’t remember laying in bed in agony, but I remember feeling tangibly the care you radiated for me as you laid next to me on the musty bed and my delight and excitement and me cursing the Gods to get this headache away so I could have a moment with you.  And you stayed the night which was the greatest gift you could have given me for my birthday outside of the boxers…:) 

I remember the next days going by faster than fast.  I remember the football game which was a fiasco of drunken police and hectic fans and GT losing but me winning so what did I care?  I remember The Vortex and shopping in that crazy shop and looking at the various little witty tags and the wigs and the funny shirts and the books about Kama Sutra and everything here there and everywhere.  I remember you getting me the Zombie Survival book (that happened before, but nevertheless, I read it all immediately whenever you werent’ around.)  I remember the pizza place and I remember eating at Denny’s where they screwed up my drink but they got everything else all right.  I remember watching movies on your laptop in semi-uncomfortable positions (once again at the time) which now is nothing short of everything that I long for day in and day out.  I can’t even watch movies properly anymore because I miss you so much.  And it’s such a good miss.  It hurts, I know…but it’s such a good miss.  It is the hurt of missing something that you know is your everything.  It is the hurt that tells you, Yes boy, you have become a man.  Yes man, you have reached the stars.  I remember going to the mall where you worked and wandering it shortly and wanting to kill the fucker who tried to rape you, who molested you, who could possibly make you feel any less than something amazing which you are.  I remember meeting your parents and being torn between staying put and leaving you alone and I did what was gentlemanly and if only I could have let you know that all I want to do is do what is manly for you, to be the arms that wrap around you and protect you, to make all the decisions that are hard to make, to comfort you when you’re sad and do all those things and I’m working so hard on it, but I’ve been broken and I need fixing.  I can be fixed, I want to be now more than ever.  And I remember eating at the seafood restaurant and never catching that she called me Mr. Bullard. 

I remember riding around on the highways and byways, the Waffle House with Rebecca and liking her a lot despite your inside jokes and some of your mome

nts on the phone telling me how much she drove you crazy.  I began to see in being near you the things I couldn’t when I just could hear you, that the discomfort and anguish your family caused you was because of your love for them and not because of your love for yourself.  I liked Rebecca a lot.  I still do.  Funnily, it was almost as much of a blow to know that Jamie talked to her and that she liked him as when I found out you did.  I remember Arby’s and the waitress.  I remember "The Illusionist" and holding hands and thinking "By God it doesn’t get better than this."  I remember sitting in the parking lot while we checked our emails and you talked to Chris.  I remember sitting in the parking lot and you wanting me to climb in the back and now I would do anything to go back and do that.

I remember the sex.  I remember that I never felt more fulfilled than I had when I had sex with you.  That it was wordless the pleasure and ecstacy you gave me which is why I pushed on for so long.  I remember wanting to do anything and everything and being as spontaneous as ever and not knowing what the feeling was until it was too late and I was flying home and longing for you everyday here in North Hollywood.  I remember figuring out how to turn the microwave light off.  I remember watching you put on make-up and get dressed and I remember looking for movies with you, drinking only slightly, shopping for the glasses at Target.  I remember eating dinner with your parents and watching myself ever so carefully and being as polite as possible and all the time I wanted to play footsie with you under the table but I wanted to make a good impression….how could I really hate them if I wanted to make a good impression?  How could you say I didn’t know you wanted me to love them?  I say stupid things sometimes out of frustration as we always do, but I did want them to like me and I want Georgia to love me, too.  I want my friends to love you and meet you and hug you and laugh with you the way Nate did because you’re amazing and they should get to see that I’m not alone in this world and have an answer ready when they ask "Why are you smiling?" 

I remember that you’re Buoy because I was talking about drowning and you were there.  So often we’ve used that metaphor.  I remember that you’re Hots cuz it’s your gangster name.  I remember that you’re Penguin because they find one mate for their entire life…one true one in every sense of the word.  I remember Yams.

I remember rushing out to get the camera and getting you on my favorites list and I remember downloading Skype which screws with my computer but I don’t care.  I remember getting to see you and being so delighted and excited and you seeing me and the excitement and I remember everything.  I remember dealing with Steve and the tyranny of his PVP WOW server.  I remember Patrick and his persistance.  I remember still a prize.  I remember you bragging about killing things in WOW, you bragging about a lot of things and everyone of them exciting.  I remember staring at your pictures endlessly, I remember I remember I remember.

I remember the Terry Pratchett book you got for me and the James Bond collections and the promise of other DVDs and our dreams of the London house where I could write and maybe Stanford and being famous and wonderful as a couple and taking you down the red carpet and the exhiliration of buying you jewelry and dresses like you were my wife or my trophy girlfriend which was only a small part of all the things you were for me.  I remember envisioning our children and knowing that you were giving all these wonderful things to me that I needed and wanted and promising myself that I would take it slow and not rush into things though every day we sort of pushed closer and I think you got scared, but baby I would wait an eternity as long as you just stay by my side with me and say that tomorrow will be the day.

I remember our fights, I know it was the distance and I know it was myself.  We both missed a lot of chances to be perfect for one another and I think we were too busy selling ourselves on perfection when Nate said it best to me the other day.  "Brad, it’s just that everybody wants so fucking much, they’ve got to start taking a lot before they have to settle for a little."  I remember Nate being here and me scheduling time to talk with you so that you could see him and meet him and chat with my best friend….so that you’d be close when you came out and visitted me over Spring Break and the Summer. 

I remember excitement for New Years Eve and the party we’d be throwing and by God if I can somehow find a way to convince you by the end of this week that we’re worth fighting for, then I would give anything for you to come out and I will pay it.  I still have the money and I think we could do it.  If not, I understand the hurdles, but I would come out there too just to kiss you as the ball drops and tell you that I love you and that what we are and what we have is worth fighting for.

It’s been a very very very hard few weeks.  But I look back on it now, outside the moments of anger and emotion, now at our scribbleboard if you will.  And we were both just fucking bombarded.  But we aren’t apart forever yet.  Not yet separated completely despite all the difficulties we had.  And if we can make it through this, then what can we not make it through?  I mean, Hell, Scotland, Papers, Eviction, Broadway deadlines, Power getting Cut Off, Period problems, Sickness, Fatigue, Exhaustion, Jaime, etc etc….we really faced a lot at once.

I know that it seems a hard road to wander now, to reclaim ourselves, and if you need time I will give it to you because I know that everytime I see you, if I could know that you were with me, I would be renewed.  What hurt the most was thinking that you wanted to be apart.  You have no idea how amazing and how much you mean to me.  You are my everything in many ways.  I will always always always always love you.  And this all may seem silly and foolish and ridiculous and young and impetuous, but I’m in love…and the one is often mistaken for all the others, but it is none of them.  It is the bravery to be anything that the other desires and needs no matter who is watching.  But I know logically and calmly that you are the one for me…and you know that I’m the one for you.  I may not be the only charming man in the world with witty phrases and sharp one-liners and perhaps I’m a bit older and more ancient and have an off-putting sense of confidence and like different things in areas and not enough in others where you do, but we line up on the important things in life.  The real you, the brave you, the one that dances when she makes toast as you said, she knows that I’m the one.  Not him.  Me.  And I can’t give you up.  I don’t know how to be just your friend.  God I wish that I could for your own sake, but I promise that every hardship you have to endure I will be the arms to protect you and give you everything.  I am love. 

And you have changed me.  You have&

nbsp;made me into a new man.  I have been striving to mend bonds with certain people who have hurt me in the past, to let a lot more roll off my shoulders than previously allowed because I know it’s the right thing to do and it’s what you do and I admire you for that.  And I respect your intelligence and never have I met someone who I feel like I can argue with and grow so much with and still stay young and exuberant.  You’re right, we treat each other like children and I’ve decided that that’s ok, because children have such pure passion in them, that that’s what I want.  You have brought me back to something beautiful, you have fixed me so much from what I was that I can’t let go of you.  You have instilled in me new things that I have never even known…tonight I was thinking about sex in public excitedly, not with perversion but because I just want to let you know anywhere and everywhere and be as free as anything around you and with you.  I actually LONG for your touch and your prowess and skill and warmth and compassion and love.  I LONG for it so completely that every passionate word that flows out of me I feel is coming from the same spring of faith and energy that you tapped.  I write for you now and only you.  I write and pursue things for you so that I may achieve everything and secure my dreams. 

A lot of things have been said and done in the past weeks.  I have only meant to be genuine and decent.  In the past I have lied and manipulated people very carefully and well, but I’m not doing that anymore because I want to be everything that I wish I could be.  You are the muse of my life.  And I don’t care who reads this and knows it.  I adore you more than even these words can say.  There is so much, no matter how you try and no matter how you wish, that does not get said.  But just know that I’m trying to pour out the love I have for you and bathe you in it, but I’m terrified that it will feel trite and cliche to constantly tell you I adore you and that you will take for granted a love that every single second of every single day I’m excited for….whether I know it or not.

I’ve said I’m a weak man, but that’s not true.  I am so strong in feeling that sometimes it makes me feel weak in the knees when I’m struck with sorrow or anger or depression.  But I’m really the strongest man  you’ll ever meet.  And I can carry my life and my dreams and yours on my shoulders without bending at all.  I swear it with an intensity greater than the heat of the sun and the stars.  Don’t be afraid of loving me and wanting things and asking things and being unsure, just let me walk with you and carry you when you feel you cannot walk and tell me where to take you and we’ll go.  I know that, when the time comes, you will stand again, and I believe that I will probably never have to carry you at all….I know you’re one of the strongest women I have ever known.

If he can match that.  If he can truly truly truly deeply match this that I feel.  But no.  No one possibly can.  And I know this as much as I know that I love every inch of your beauty and adore your eyes that shine and swallow the outside world…as much as I know I long for you…as much as I know that you are as great as I believe you to be and I will never ever ever believe otherwise.  I am so confident in this that I often wonder how much of the faith between us I put into you, and how much you reached in and dragged out of me.  I do not want our love to be a memory to us, some page in a scrapbook we stare at each day.  I wish it to be a memory for the rest of the world when we are gone, a monument that instills conviction and excitement.   I want our love to stay because loving you in the moment when I hold you and kiss you and look into your eyes is the only moment where I achieve half the passion I feel towards you inside….all these words are so much less.

I am forever your Penguin.  Will you be mine?

EDIT: I was utterly wrong.