twenty-something

I worry
I weigh three times my body
I worry
I throw my fear around
But this morning
There's a calm I can't explain
The rock candy's melted, only diamonds now remain

By the time I recognize this moment
This moment will be gone
But I will bend the light pretending
That it somehow lingered on

And I will wait to find
If this will last forever
And I will wait to find
If this will last forever
And I will pay no mind
Well it won't and it won't because it can't
It just can't
(It's not supposed to)

Was there a second of time I looked around?
Did I sail through or drop my anchor down?
Was anything enough to kiss the ground
And say I'm here now?
And he is here now

So much wasted in the afternoon
So much sacred in the month of June
How bout you?

And I will wait to find
If this will last forever
And I will wait to find
That it won't and it won't and it won't
And I will pay no mind
Worried bout no rainy weather
And I will waste no time
Remaining in our lives together

- John Mayer

'Twas the night before Easter and all though the house... Uh, yeah. I got nothing. Maybe Jesus is running around somewhere, but not here.

I'm at my parents' tonight, for the first time since Christmas. It's weird how a place can be home in some moments and completely alien in others. Guess that's what happens when you're mid-twenties. I'm, like, almost an adult.

So, yeah, weird to be here. Easter tomorrow - which means some sort of Godless specticle of a meat-feast, which somewhere along the line became the holiest of holy meals that my little I-talian non-practicing/slash/ex-communicated Catholic family celebrates. I like the ham; I could go for less noise. Ask anybody who's met them - I come from the loud family. And tomorrow will be a twisted-mirror of that Fat Greek thing, if you've seen it. Except nobody's getting married, Jesus is dead, and I'm gay.

Merry Christmas.

Also - my house is full of allergens. My mom smokes, which is my poison, as well as my aunt, who's here for the weekend. The dark clouds loom in almost every room, which equals, for me, itchy eyes, sneezing, scratchy throat, and headaches. Ahh, home sweet home. Can't forget the pets, either - there's Ben, the dumb golden retriver who I once hated by now adore, and the THREE cats -- Annie, the eldest, and the two new kittens, Orange and Black (I don't really know there names, as i think every member of my family calls them each something different, but I like Orange best). They're all so adorable that I can't not pet them and love them. But, sadly, I've been coughing -- "Gollum, Gollum" -- since around minute ten of this visit.

In addition to the allergy attacks, there's also lots of food - I mean, LOTS OF FOOD. And I swear, I'm gaining five pounds just sitting here. But when I look at my steadily growing mother and grandmother, I guess it doesn't look so bad.

Ah. Family.

Even now, as I sit here in my quiet (for once), sleeping home, Duncan is somewhere out there, with his family, celebrating Passover and mourning the passing of his grandfather. We are in such different places right now, and I really can't imagine what he's experiencing right now. He found out about his grandfather on Thursday and headed right to me within 10 mintues. It was hard to see him deal with the loss -- or not deal with it, as the case may be. We've been having our issues as of late, but it seemed the tragedy reconnected us.

Wherever he is, whatever he's experiencing, I just hope he's OK.

Last time I was here, that very long week around the holidays, I thought a lot about faith, belief, and all that hooey I've been spouting off as of late. This place, especially around Catholic holidays, makes me think a lot about that kind of crap.

It's odd that I don't really know what I believe half the time. Do I accept Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior? Do I believe in God? Do I believe in destiny? Do I believe in love? Ah... crap crap crap. I honestly don't ask myself these questions often. I used to, in high school, when I was so desperately trying to find myself. But I've sort of sunk into this status quo, of pseudo-spirituality, of love, of homosexualiy, of all that. Somewhere along the line, it all became me, but I don't know - is it really? Family tends to bring all this out in me.

I have to have faith that this isn't me. The destiny in which my family seems to all be fullfilling. In June, the fourth and fifth of my generation of cousins (including me) graduates from high school, and it looks like neither of these two are headed to college. Which makes me not only the only one in my generation to graduate from college, but the only one to persue it -- and only the second in my family to achieve a Bachelor's Degree. They get married, have kids, fight, eat -- live their lives, their status quo -- and it's just OK. There's little change. There's little striving towards something better. It all just is.

I don't know what any of this means. Except I'm tired.

But I will close with this...

Belief. It's a good thing. But lately, maybe I've been putting my faith into the wrong places. Maybe, just maybe, I need to stop looking at other people - and believe in myself.

Happy Easter.

There's too much sky, not enough blue
There's too many questions to why I love you
There's too many clouds, not enough sun
The rain must fall on everyone

Last night, Home Movies, one of my favorite TV shows and certainly one of the highlights of my week, aired its final new episode. I didn't know this until after the episode finished, and I felt overwhelmingly and pathetically sad. Sure, it's a cartoon. Sure, it's silly. But it's been a clever, amazingly smart silly, squiggly cartoon that has had an extremely excellent season. I think what upset me that most was its sudden, unexpectedness. I didn't have time to prepare.

The quiet passing of Home Movies just adds another loss to quality TV and, even sadder, to my life. My new love, Wonderfalls, was axed after just 4 quality episodes. Angel bows next month after five seasons, just one year after its sire, perhaps my favorite show ever, Buffy, went off the air. Friends, a show that premiered when I was a freshman in high school, and has been an odd constant in an often unstable life. I watched the first episode with my grandmother when I was 14. I watched many more episodes in college gathered with various friends. And I'm not sure where I'll be for the grand finale next month.

And, of course, my beloved Sex and the City. *snif* That loss still cuts deep.

I think Will & Grace just did an episode on this, where Jack and Karen mourn the loss of their favorite shows -- but I didn't really pay attention because that show will be back next year.

So I watch a lot of TV. And I feel loss for TV shows. Pathetic? Maybe. Have I become so superficially and shallow that these comedy and dramas have become my art, my friends, my life? Maybe a little. But I still am a senstive, sentimental schmuck, so there's some depth there.

See, I think that these feelings aren't about the TV shows. No, not really. They are something deeper. I do still have a soul. I attach sentimentality to each of these shows, and thus that's why I'm sad. Friends was once a weekly ritual for me and my best friends, a tradition that sadly passed away a few years ago. Sex and the City came to me in a time of need -- not only the post-9/11 world, but my early 20s coming of age with life and, more importantly, love. The characters became friends and helped me bond even better with my real life friends.

Home Movies, like most of Cartoon Network's late nightAdult Swim, has become a nightly ritual with me and Duncan. We watch Futurama and Family Guy at 11, almost every night we're together. And Home Movies had become the crown jewel of that routine, a highlight of quality Sunday Night Television. We could crack up and cuddle, and quote the show all week. It had been better than ever. And now it's over.

Here's where I go deep. I'm upset about Home Movies' end because I worry that my relationship might be headed towards the same fate, soon. And that scares me.

Things have always been tough for us. A closeted relationship is near, if not completely, impossible. And from the beginning, there have been ups and downs. But its always been worth it. There's always been a pay off. I've always, without a doubt, wanted to be with my man, and no one else. Since I feel in love with him, I've often doubted the relationship, but never, really, my love, never my desire, never my commitment to being with him.

But lately -- I don't know. Stuff has happened, and I hurt. Bad. And I don't know how to deal with some of that stuff. It's like not going away. I can usually talk through my feelings, solve my problems, but I just can't right now. I'm stressed at work, all my shows are over, and my relationship isn't working -- and I don't know how to fix it.

My resolution to recommit, to trust, to believe in him, its being tested big time. There's a point when belief becomes foolishness, when faith becomes blindness, when love can become unbearable heartache. There's a point when living in the moment becomes a rut, a defense, because you're too afraid to look ahead, to change, to be realistic. Am I at that point? I've been wondering that lately, and I'm not sure of the answer. I'm not sure if I'm being supportive or being used. I'm not sure if we're in a rough patch, or if we're over.

There's too much doubt and not enough dare
There's too much decision everywhere
There's too much talk and not enough time
Let's close our eyes and not our minds

But last night -- last night was nice. We had a nice homemade dinner. Watched TV and hung out together. And everything was good. Everything was just as I wanted. I could ignore the future and have a good time. Be with him and be happy -- something I hadn't truly felt in a couple weeks. I felt better, I felt like everything was back to normal, healed. I was myself again -- not so hurt, not so confused -- and he was too -- nice, respectful -- and we were us, same as ever -- in our little relationship, in our little love.

But, by the harsh light of day, everything seems to creep back to the surface. All the bad stuff could be ignored in the dark, but in the day, I have to take it as part of the whole, mix it in with the good. And with that mix, I have to decide what to do -- try and salvage it, sweeten it, or chuck it out? I get the feeling he doesn't want out, so it's up to me. FUCK.

So, yeah, we're back to "You're The Ocean." Teitur. Good shit. Fitting.

You look for leads, I follow clues
You love to win, I dare to lose
Mostly you're a mind game in my head
You are earth, I am water
I can give you what you're after
You can be the word...I can be the rhyme...

He needs me, and that's always been enough. But what about my needs, my wants? And what does he really want? Words -- questions -- that's what this relationship's been about from day one. But he was the one who saved me from myself, from my darkness, over a year ago - but who's gonna to save me, and us, now?

Are we just in an angsty rough patch, or are we nearing the end? One thing's for sure - we're gearing up for one hell of a season - if not series - finale. Is it better to go out on top, like Seinfeld, to leave everybody wanting more? Do you change up the formula, spin-off into something new and different, like Fraiser? Or should you stick it out for a couple more seasons to see if it can work? That sometimes works (The Practice) and sometimes its heartbreaking (X-Files).

I'm talking in TV terms. I'm a geek, yes. But I'm no TV exec. I'm not one to make these kind of decisions. I don't want to live with the consequences. I'm too afraid to making the wrong choice. Where's the story going to lead me?

To paraphrase my TV alter-ego, Sammy: He has meant more to me than any man I've ever known.

I love him. I just don't know what to do.

There's really nothing you can do
You're going where I'm going too
Stay beside me, stay beside me
I want you