At The Bar Tonight . . .

It's past 4 AM. That's fine. I am tired, but full of life.

I saw Harring tonight with a new guy. We ignored each other, but I could feel him look at me, as I looked at him. I held my own and was graceful. There was a moment when my heartbeat increased drastically. I was nervous, but I calmed down as other people began to hit on me.

I know that it was his problem and my friend told him, "I'm not speaking to you." When he tried to start up a conversation with him. I was happy he said that, people care about me and my feelings.

I am on good terms again with the Hot Dumpling. Which is terrific. It's all healed and complete, hurrah, hurrah, hurray. Tomorrow I will be fine because I know I am attractive, but single because I don't have the time. I didn't feel jealousy and though I felt nervous at one point. I was strong and forceful. I felt good-looking and desirable. That's good enough for now.

Yes, I Did Send It . . .

Here is my FUCKING closure. I know this makes me a fucking awful person. I hate that I can write something like this and send it to a person. I did and I somewhat regret it. I just don't think it's necessarily fair to tell someone things like, "I can't wait to return and help you feel happy again." Then go onto ignoring me and acting as if I didn't even exist.

Harring,

If respecting my "fragile state of mind" means ignoring me completely, then I guess you are going to be that way. I wish you luck in your life and hope you success someday in ever validating your feelings with another person. I don't know what happened and probably never will, nor do I necessarily care.

I just know that I don't care enough if someone is going to just pretend that they are interested in me, but then proceed to ignore me. I will forever associate you with this song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pX-bIr8dr6U

Good luck and if I ever do see you out in public. Don't be surprised if I treat you with the same disdain you did with me.

Love,
E.Iguana

P.S. Your "films" need major work.

These Scarlett O'Hara Days

I am not a prophet nor am I fully a pessimist anymore. Yet, I have a feeling Harring's time in my life is done. It upset me earlier this week. The reason not being love sickness, but feeling manipulated.

I still feel like I've been lead on. I'm getting over the fact that this unfortunately was the case. I want to call, but I don't even feel like it's worth it. I have put my effort into it and I'm still baffled by how it all changed.

My prime example being that Harring apparently wrote a letter to my friend thanking him for "bringing Iguana to New Years and into his life." Something along those lines. I was touched when I heard that, which in turn helped promote investing in hoping it turned into something when he returned. Silly me.

Like a newlywed who has to hear of her husband's death on the battlefield. Never really getting a chance to know the man she wanted to love. I will wear black for a few weeks [hours] and then give up my wedding band for metal collection.

After that, I will begin again. . .

Picture of Success

I've had it with you, and Mexico can fucking wait.

You stood me up. Perhaps you really do want to get to know me, and if you do I would not mind getting to know you too. Just be fucking adult about it.

These are times that can't be weathered, and we have never been back there since.

The Problem with Harring

A Point-to-Point if you will. . .

• The first two weeks of his Mexico trip he texted me constantly. Telling me he missed me , he couldn't wait to see me, when he came home he was going to be very intense, etc.
  
• The last week I did not hear a word from him. When I would text him there would not be a reply as there was the first two weeks.
  
  
• He could NOT wait to see me when he got home.
• When he got home I did not even hear a word from him until I called him the next day and then his response was just sort of, "Hi."
  
  
• I opened myself up and said, "I missed you more than I expected while you were gone."
  
• He responded with silence. Nothing.
  
  
• He told me we've hang out tonight [meeting time was tentatively 8 o'clock] and that he would call some time to talk about it.
• 8 o'clock rolls around. Nothing. In my wonderful way I call and text him. Instead of asking "What's up?" I send: Are you blowing me off?
• He calls me back and asks me what is up. "You've been acting strange since I returned home." I admit I have been strange, but no stranger than you.
  
  
• I respond that I will tell him fully when I see him. I say this as the movie I am working on is going crazy and I just exposed raw nerves at the support group last night and I have missed him for weeks.
• He ends up canceling because he thinks he is getting a cold.
  
  
• I call him on the way home and tell him I didn't mean to be weird or paranoid.
• He was understanding and told me that he wants to get to know me. To be myself.

Now, while I agree with his last suggestion. From here on out I will be nothing but myself. He does not know that the notion that someone would just lose interest in me is hardly a fairytale in my life. I am terrified of opening myself up to anyone and I am trying to do this well.

My intuition is ringing out like a school bell. I have ideas and thoughts that have brought about this paranoia.

Yet, here is what is going to happen. . .

After all this was finished and I was riding home on the train. A man got on and looked at me. We rode home and I felt him looking at me. He was a tall man, not handsome, but a unique beauty was in his face. He wasn't ugly by far, but taller than a normal man and possibly bald under his winter cap.

In that moment I knew what was wrong with my equilibrium. I am not giving myself enough credit. I woke up today at 6 am, ran 4.30 miles (with a cold mind you!) I went to class, came home and did homework. Made myself hot for the meeting that never happened. I went to Manhattan, bought some plays for class, went to the Designer for the movie and worked until 10 PM.

The powerful being I am is beyond me. I am doing so much and I am allowing myself to fall apart over a guy. To let Harring rule my emotions and cause me to sound like a stuttering fool!

Not anymore. I still like him and wish to see him (perhaps it will happen sometime soon) again. No more paranoia though. If in Mexico he tells me of some Folgers man who came over the hills of Merida, riding on his mule. That they had a passionate tryst and that's why he stopped texting me. I can only reply with, "That was your choice."

I walk down the street and I see eyes. I see attractive men seeing me, looking at me. It makes me smile. I know anyone of these guys I could go up and strike a conversation, if I wanted to. For the moment I want to direct my attention towards Harring. I want to, that's why I don't just sleep with just anyone anymore. I know how nice it feels to sleep with the person you WANT to. If he wants to abuse his right and sleep with others and then show interest in me still. That is fine, I can expect no more or less these days.

Harring has been moved to the back burner. He decided that himself and I am okay with that. I will see him when I see him. I like him, but I was rash and thought his advances were sincere. He wants to spend time getting to know one another, I want to get to know him, but in order to do that. You actually need to see the person.

A Mind Cleanse

I am sick. I have a stuffy nose and I am coughing as if I have TB. These slow days, it's Saturday, yet I am stuck indoors. Oh, to be so poor! I have been using a Nettie Pot, but all I ever get is salt snot down the back of my throat.

Oh, forgive me, I just had a coughing fit. It's so hard to focus, ever since this cold arrived. Last night I slept, but not soundly. I kept dreaming that I was starting a rock band. I would wake up to pee or in a cold sweat. I would return to sleep, intent on forming the band.

College begins the final semester. A five year journey, coming to a close. Has it been five years? Am I still in college? I think back to Pratt, being 19, believing the world didn't have anything on me. I'm sinking into thoughts, I must change the topic or I'll be here all night.

Equus is a play I hold dear to my heart. I have been waiting to see it for about 2 years. There were parts that made me shiver. Daniel Radcliffe is a fine actor and has a cute body. More coughing, my throat feels raw.

I am finishing In Cold Blood by Truman Capote. It's one of those novels that you read and fully understand why it's famous. Is it necessarily shocking to the present date? Not quiet, but that's how unimpressed we've become.

Harring is due back from Meh-He-Co tomorrow. We shall see what happens. I need him to return before I can officially consider anything. Right now, I seem to be dying. So I consider that a touch more important. Having been reminded of what it feels like to be touched by another man, it just stirred my soul up. I have to forget that feeling all over again otherwise.

While I Breath for a Moment

I'm taking the night to relax for a moment. I've been doing various things for the little independent movie and I haven't had a moment to just breath. I'm breathing right now. Winter Break has almost come to an end and what did I do?

I went home for oh so long and discovered more than I wanted. Which is usual of every visit it seems. I worked in a warehouse for a few weeks, helping organize Forbidden Broadway costumes. I am working on a film as a Wardrobe Supervisor.

I met Harring and lost him to the sun in Mexico. He returns Sunday and I just know it won't be easy. I wish he hadn't escaped so quickly and I had this time of leisure to have become more acquainted with him. I admit that my body has missed the physical attraction. I have felt withdrawal symptoms in my body. The struggle to not feel lonely.

I like his company, but I believe that I only got the brief illusion of what Harring is. Debonair and charming. I want to see what this extreme personality brings out before I begin to let myself fall for it's charm and glamor.

I want to get to know him more, which is the grown thing to do. I believe in lasting relationships. People change their tune so quickly at our age. Harring wants kids and five child family. Ha! Everyone knows my womb cannot bear offspring. Plus, five?! I can do one or two with the time span of 15 years in between.

I am so dedicated to myself, but I will try my damnedest to work him into the schedule. With class, the filming beginning, oh and, not to forget the Support Group.

Oh, but I joined the Support Group too! You've done so much and come so far! The group will lead to things. As will graduating from College. For better or for worse. You got into this life for a reason. There must be another chapter to all this. I feel my body saying to keep calm, this is that step I'm missing.

That essential piece of advice that I can't figure out. Terror. I'm nervous and scared. I can't let myself just give into it so easily. To share that part of yourself with someone. I should not necessarily run to him because he returns on Sunday. He left me for three weeks to go to Mexico, you met only a week ago. It's not the best idea, I can't spend the night and I need to stay focused in school.

I'm to cautious to live frivolously. To let my head fall into all this again. Yet, the plane will land and he will come home. He will call on me and I will feel the pull to run to him. Part of me says to withhold. You can see him on a day that suits you better. Am I allowed to be this way? I feel such a pull to be cautious, I'm so close to the border of change.

I am simply just writing out my nerves. I just wish it would click. What lesson did I miss?

The Mississippi Conversation

Wardrobe Supervisor is the position I will soon be able to add to my resume. It's not a paying job, but it's experience. It's the Depression, welcome and join me, will you? It's a movie about Lesbians and Vampires. I love dealing with the actors of this world. The designer is a nice connection to make. He's a Hot Asian. I like to call them Hot Dumplings. A nice guy and at such a young age, has so many credits to his name. I won't lie, my eyes turned a shade of green.

I'm giving out to the universe with this work. I love the experience and appreciate it. It feels terrific to put my all into something. I haven't felt driven, it's nice to have a constructive goal. Soon school will start and I will have more than one thing to focus on. Oh my goodness, I'm really finding work outside of school.

At this age I feel like I'm coming into my own. As if before this moment everything before this was a prologue. I am introduced at this age, coming into these situations. My life before now a mere pond of memories. I'm making changes in life, confronting myself.

Harring is in Mexico, as I am sure I have mentioned once before. I enjoy his Scorpio behavior, but I worry about the intensity of it all. He travels so often, it's seems so romantic. How his life works. He travels around to make documentaries. Perhaps I can be the Wardrobe Supervisor for his film. HAR HAR

I fear that if we date, I may turn into Hedda Gabler. After developing a taste of worrying about only myself. I find the idea of sharing that responsibility with someone unsettling. Not to shoulder my burden, but to give me something else to enjoy for a while. Am I possible of that commitment?

It feels odd wanting to enjoy something in these times of serious worry. It's all going to shift soon, this I can tell. My body feels it, for better or for worse. So far the steps have been promising. I feel so sorry for those I have read about who have been "let go." Leaving my job when I did, for ceremonies sake, was the perfect timing. They didn't let me go, I left them. Pride is a sin, this is true.

In a few days I will be seeing Equus. That's something to look forward to. I love that play, it's dated true, but it's unique. This man wrote Amadeus too, which I find utterly fascinating.

One More Semester

Who managed to get all As this semester and securing a 3.9 GPA? I did. Yet, don't cheer for me, it was nothing. I'm just going through the motions until I graduate, which shall be happening in June of 2009. I've secured all my classes, now I need to file for graduation and it shall almost be done.

Oh. My. It's almost done. Excuse me while I reflect for a moment. . .

I saw Hedda Gabler the other night. Starring my favorite lady: Mary Louise Parker. She was solid, but the production was not a memorable one.

On Sunday, it's coming three-fold as I will be seeing Patti LuPone's final Gypsy performance. I have never seen a show live as many times as I have seen Patti LuPone in Gypsy. I suppose she will be that memory, like so many other gay men since 1980, who have the one show they remember Patti in. Evita, Les Miserable, Anything Goes, Sweeney Todd. The list goes on and on. I love her in Gypsy! Hearing her sing three of best power house numbers in musical history. Playing the role she was born to play. People may say she's hammy and awful, but I will always respect her!

Harring travels. He goes on trips all the time. I met him right as he arrived in from France and yesterday he flew off to Mexico for two weeks. Interesting twist, barely home and he leaves again. It gives me time to balance out and enjoy myself. I have been, spending time with good friends and keeping it local [in Brooklyn yo!]. Doing a little work in the warehouse, the possibilities it may lead to, but I dare not speak of it now.

I have recently fallen in love with Jacque Brel and his Belgian gurgle. He's not exactly like Edith Piaf, but. . .

If that mug looked at you and started singing in a different language. You would swoon a little, I am sure.

A Dream and a Reality — A Symphony of Emotion

I wrote this post last night before my date with Harring (whom was known before as The Documentarist, which is not an actual word). Remember this as you read on:

I had a dream last night. It was sort of a nightmare, but I can't quite tell. As usual, keep in mind that my dreams border on realism most times. So here we go...

I am with The Tall Man and other friends. We are renting a van to go to the zoo and we are standing around and smoking cigarettes. The Tall Man takes me aside and begins to berate me with insults. It's random especially since this is the first time we've seen each other in almost a year. I begin to cry and he doesn't react. When the group returns I stop crying and say, "I am sorry I can't be in this group right now. He is being a fucking asshole." Then I stalked off.

Hmmm...

Sometimes I wonder if I have Post-Traumatic Syndrome or something. Why is that my dream? Oh well, I just took it in my mind as one last memory of a past. That I'm moving on and always being positive. That's my only resolution. . .

The day thus continued on. Harring called and we decided to see a perfect date movie. Revolutionary Road. I have loved Kate Winslet around the time I saw her in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I have wanted to BE Kate Winslet since she stepped out of that car in Tiantic. After Revolutionary Road, she is a Goddess.

Yet, this still isn't a proper date movie. We went because I want to test fate, luckily, it wasn't a deal breaker. It's what happened afterward that caused me to once again question my life and why things happen the way they do.

We were standing and waiting for the L Train. Unexpectedly, I hear a voice say, "Hello Craig." In this moment there was no one I wanted to see less, yet life somehow deemed this plausable. An audience voted and results show that of anyone I could run into it would be The Tall Man.

Before this day, this moment, I have always wondered what would happen. How would I react? Would I be able to carry on a conversation? Would I cry? Suddenly this answer was about to be revealed. Here he is. Still incredibly tall and equally handsome. His hair had grown much longer, just as my own had shortened considerably.

I think I blinked for a considerable amount of time before stuttering, “I--I had a nightmare about you last night.” He laughed nervously and replied, “Oh. . .wow! I hope I didn’t die.”

The pang, mixed with the sharpness of my tongue almost caused, “Oh. No, my dreams are horribly real to life. I’m sure you know what it was about.” Yet, I think I may have just drooled. I can’t accurately remember what happened during this conversation because suddenly my mind went blank.

I could see The Tall Man, I just could not hear anything he said. I began to ask him questions, I didn’t want a moment of silence so my disbelief could be fully comprehended. “What are you doing on the L Train?” I watched as his mouth moved and I acted like I understood, but then I realized his explanation was taking longer than I expected. Oh no, he was asking me a question! “Wait, I just hallucinated, what are you doing on the L Train?”

As this silent film played out, I turned my head slowly to my right and realized there was still another player in the scene. Harring was standing there silently, “This is . . .” I looked at him hoping he could see my sudden panic. He seemed to catch on and quickly added, “Harring.”

I looked back at the Tall Man and informed him of the movie we saw. I felt my body begin to tense more, but I just smiled and laughed. Slowly but noticeably, I leaned into Harring. I just felt my body naturally doing it and suddenly a little switch flickered in my mind.

I felt life was on my side at this moment. Give me the strength to accept that which I cannot change. I could never think of what would happen when I saw the Tall Man because I always pictured it happening by myself. I never wrote a third character into the scene. I would not cry, because I was not alone. I would not yell, because I could lean and still get the same feeling of relief. I am moving on.

I knew that I had no feeling to reunite with him anymore. Also that he had no idea what happened after he hung up the phone. I suddenly didn’t care either. I was still trying to figure out why 2008 was running into 2009. Even if Harring and I don’t last longer than any other affair, he has already paid off his investment.

After the train arrived the Tall Man understood his time on stage was through and he took his leave. I looked at Harring and inevitably had to explain exactly why that hoofer was being allowed so much stage time. I got about two sentences out about the dream from earlier and just stopped talking. I needed to think. . .