I wasn’t going to write this post. Despite all the ways in which I let people into my world, there are some topics that just seem off-limits; however, I need to begin the healing process, so I am going to blog about this. Even though it makes me feel naked and vulnerable (odd that being naked and vulnerable doesn’t make me feel naked and vulnerable, but that this issue does).
I blogged about two weeks ago that I’d finally forgiven my ex. Within hours of doing that the universe put someone in my path. I thought it was a sign that the world had been desperate for me to meet someone, and that since I’d put it off so long that there was an immediate blip on the radar. I’m trying very hard right now not to be angry, but what I feel is rage mingled with grief. I have been given a very distinct reminder about why I normally do not make myself available beyond friendship.
Allen streaked into my life like some kind of meteor: Brilliant and inspiring, but trailing destruction in his wake. Without realizing it, I had resolved to do everything on his terms, because he is so damaged and hurt that I wanted to make him as comfortable and happy as his ex’s made him miserable. What I realize now is that I made too many concessions, and that I lost sight of my own priorities in a bid to satisfy him and keep him around. When he asked for time and patience, I gave it. When he asked for more intimacy (despite having just asked for time to get to know me), I gave it – on the condition that he not lose interest afterward. “I wouldn’t do that,” he said. So, I gave him what he said he was ready for. I am empathetic to the point of being psychic – I knew something was wrong immediately afterwards. When I finally let my cold walls down, I tend to incinerate people with my intensity. People should thank me for keeping myself boxed in – they generally can’t withstand the shock of seeing me in my fullness. It never takes long for me to burn someone out.
Eighteen hours later he is telling me about an ex for whom he still has feelings, and says he is overwhelmed and needs to slow everything down. Mhm. How’s this for slow enough: When he was online last night, he didn’t even say hello to me, let alone give me the promised response to an email (his preferred form of communication). He simply logged off. I sent him a good-bye text, deleted him from my phone, deleted and blocked him as best I could from other portals, and have decided to go back to my stance of “I don’t date.”
Let me explain that the reason I was completely ready to trust Allen is because we have so much in common: Movement/athletics/physical therapy, exotic dance background, legal adoption by cruel step fathers, extreme abuse by significant others, and a highly developed sense of empathy for others (despite an internal conflict between the need for love and the fear of it). The first night we met, he tipped me a $10 bill with a kind note on it. I have kept that tip for the last couple weeks, because it was special to me. I am depositing it in the bank today, so that I can buy some cat litter with my debit card.
What I have been reminded of is that when a gay guy says “I want a smart, kind, attractive, attentive man to love me,” what he means is “I want several douche nozzles to use me badly. Alot.” This blog takes on a bitter tone that I normally do not vent here; however, it is what I am experiencing right now, and if I am going to assert that adult entertainers have feelings too, then I have to occasionally let you see the darker moods too. I am not well.
This will take some time. But I mend quickly. If the damage isn’t too great. I am fucking fabulous. I want to lay down and die, I am so embarrassed. “I like you so much!” Not enough, it seems. The bad thing about meteors is that even small ones leave large craters.
(Update, 07/19/2013: Components of this entry, as well as of the comments below, form the basis of “Revelation 6:13” within the collection “The Gospel According to Anteros.”)