Devon Hunter

Not all that long ago I was asked what I wanted in my connections with people. Well, J.C., I have an answer for you, and before I even write this (and I’m not so worried about whether or not I keep it to 500 words today) I sense it will end up in my Favorites list. This is one of those diamonds I sometimes birth after some painful struggle and terrifying introspection.

First, some background information. When I lived in Los Angeles from 1998 - 2002, I lived within a profoundly dysfunctional relationship with a man named Randy. Randy is wonderful in that he is financially generous and politically honest; however, he is one of the single most emotionally selfish, socially inept, intellectually insensitive, and grossly manipulative people I have ever met. His qualities cannot, for me, EVER counterbalance his negative attributes. And I have been tormented by his presence in my life for OVER TEN FUCKING YEARS… He drives me absolutely ape shit…

And last night he called me at 4:00 am to bitch me out.

I left my phone on, because Matt (whose story unfolds in “Honesty: It fucking sucks,” part 1, part 2, and part 3) reappeared 24 hours after I sent him a “good bye” text. He texted to let me know his phone had been dead for two days (which, for a variety of reasons I don’t care to explain here, I know to be a lie), and that he didn’t mean to come across as “shady.” He then immediately disappeared back into the mysterious labyrinth of his restaurant where time and communication skills are forever lost…

At any rate, I left my phone on in case Matt finally decided to call after all. He did not. But, lo and behold, rather than the person I most wanted a call from, I got a call from the person I least wanted a call from. I remember the phone ringing at 4:00 am, and I rolled over and I actually cursed outloud in indignation. I let it go to voicemail. I checked that voicemail a few hours later, unable to sleep.

And the diamond was forged from within me.

Randy WENT OFF on me. “I’m so disappointed in you as a person! You didn’t call for Thanksgiving or Christmas. You never answer when I call. You always let me go to voicemail, and you never call me back. How busy can you fucking be? This is a bunch of bullshit! I’m getting the message that you don’t want to talk to me or something, and I’m not going to call you anymore.”

Here is what I was yelling in response to him: “I don’t care if you’re disappointed, asshole! I didn’t even THINK to call you, and why would I?? Of course I don’t answer: You’re an asshole! And I don’t call back, because I don’t fucking want to! Too busy to talk TO YOU! What’s bullshit is that it’s taken you 10 years to figure all this out. Don’t do me any favors! GOD!” And I deleted his voicemail, feeling triumphant that I was FINALLY, after more than a decade, not going to allow him to guilt me into talking to him. I am finally rid of this person!

GOD!

And then… well… the moment his voicemail blinked out of existence, I realized something:

It is distinctly possible that I am Randy/Matt. Actually, I’m far worse than Randy/Matt. I have been sick with fretting over not hearing from Matt with any consistency for +10 days, but I have been doing this to Randy for +10 years. Why? Because I can’t bear the thought of the confrontation. I am heaped with guilt at the thought of telling Randy to leave me alone, and to keep his manipulative insanity to himself.

And here I am, sitting by with the audacity to cry over Matt? Oh, my fucking GOD! I don’t know that it’s true, but what if it is?? What if the only reason Matt responds to me (at all) is because he feels, from time to time, enough guilt or exasperation to text or call me just to shut me up, or to give me a dose of attention and leave me to my misery for a while? That’s the attitude I’ve taken with Randy for years and years: “Okay, I will talk to Randy for an hour today, since I’ve ignored him for months, and that’s good enough to get me through for a few more months.”

I’m a horrible person. And I’m a hypocrite. I don’t believe that Karma is a punishment: It is a lesson. And just when I was beginning to wallow in self-pity about how horrible Matt is treating me… the phone rings. That message from Randy was a message from the Universe. I have been accusing Matt of being too chicken shit to just tell me that he doesn’t want to talk to me, but I’m a thousand times more guilty of the same exact cowardice.

Now, the question is this: Do I break this cycle of cowardice, call Randy back, and FINALLY say “I got your message, and I prefer that you not contact me anymore?” Or do I break the cycle of guilt, avoiding the horrible argument Randy will try to start, in an attempt to not respond to yet another ploy?

Randy CONSCIOUSLY uses guilt to coerce people to talk to him. That is the only distinction between how he has treated me over the years, and how I have interacted with Matt over the weeks. Was I, in a more subtle manner, trying to guilt Matt into calling me or seeing me???

I don’t know.

But to answer C.J.’s question once and for all: What I want in my connections with people (friends, family, lovers, clients, and otherwise) is for people to keep their expectations of each other’s capacities reasonable; to consider both sides of a situation before deciding who, if anyone, is right/wrong or good/bad; and to allow everyone in a relationship the ability to evolve constantly, and to come/leave peacefully when needed. Whether honesty fucking sucks or not, THAT is what I want to give and get from my connections.

Okay, I gave it a good college try, but Matt’s just not that into me. Part 1 to this scenario is here, and part 2 is here. My career isn’t the issue. His career is the issue. He would make time to hook up with me for those first 6 weeks, but he (for two weeks now since I told him about my work) can’t make the time to talk to me with any consistency or maturity. He’s always “at work.” The day that I told him about my profession I went to see him after he left the restaurant he manages (at his request), but he was drunk when I got there and dropped the “L-bomb” on me. He is acting like he doesn’t remember it, but everything changed, not when I told him I’m an escort, but when he was talking through the alcohol. He evidently embarrassed himself beyond his comfort zone. And I have to be honest about that. He’s not coming back. And that fucking sucks, because I’m willing to shrug it off and continue on. But sometimes it’s hard to take my own advice, and I have to hear it from someone else:

Just a few days ago I blogged about a worry concerning telling someone about my career, and how that might completely end our friendship/budding relationship. I ate, Sunday (the day before yesterday), at the restaurant he manages. I had a glass of wine. I told him everything.

And he didn’t run away.

“I’m not a judgmental person,” is all he said.

In fact, he’d already figured it out. I just gogged at him a bit. This was completely unexpected, given the conversations we’d had about monogamy. “I kinda put it together on my own a while back. I’m not stupid.” I was worried over nothing. He had pieced it together two weeks before I told him. In the time since he understood why I had avoided his questions I’d already seen him a few more times. And then I spent the evening with him after I told him as well! We haven’t watched “Dangerous Beauty” yet, but he wants to see it.

I really do get rewarded from time to time for retaining my belief in hope.

See part 3 of this story…

I have been blogging consistently now for almost two years - next month will be my “cotton” anniversary… Somehow that seems a bit underwhelming, but what can you do? But third years are evidently celebrated with leather, so here’s hoping I get that far with this site.

In all this time I have been very open about the challenges, pleasures, obstacles, advantages, and other facets of doing what I do. And I don’t have any regrets about that at all. I wouldn’t change any of it (and I don’t, even when I write something that I later feel embarrassed about on some level). It’s all right here. That is part and parcel with the whole reason I blog.

I have generally embraced wholeheartedly the scenario that is being single. I love it. I do. Tremendously! I even plan to marry myself on my birthday in 2012. I have the ring from Tiffany’s picked out, I will have a tux tailor made, and I will have a ceremony with friends and family present. I truly enjoy singledom. In all of 2008 I think my only lapse was Kenny. In 2009 I met Allen and Steve. But I have grown to appreciate them as people, even though they weren’t what I thought they were supposed to be. They are their own men, and they have to be accepted as they are (just as I ask people to do of me). But both of them were easy to discount as potential partners, because they live far from me.

But what to do… There’s the potential to know someone better right here where I live. This is a first in three years. Since I left my last boyfriend I have not run into the possibility of a partner right in my own back yard. He has very reasonable expectations about a standard relationship. He desires monogamy, and doesn’t understand how a person cheats if he’s in love.

Sigh.

But that template works in a world that doesn’t exist!! I would just leave him as a fuckbuddy who could’ve been more, but I get the distinct impression that this is a scenario that won’t stay as it is (because he won’t let it). In the interest of preserving friendship if the potential romance sours, of defining boundaries in case a relationship develops despite my career, and of being upfront about the various pitfalls that may be waiting… I have to tell him what I do.

I’m not ashamed of my life or of my career. I do fear that he won’t understand. And there is some nervousness on my part that he will reject me out of hand (but then that won’t be a bad situation if I get out of a relationship with someone who won’t accept all of me). However, he will eventually find out, and I would much prefer to be the one to tell him. I think I will watch “Dangerous Beauty” with him, and then ask him his thoughts about this achingly beautiful movie.

I just want to be left in peace with my cat, my blog, and my short-lived trysts. Oh hell… I’m actually hoping he can handle the truth. People say they want honesty, but it seems that relationships last based on what you DON’T tell people.

EDIT: See part 2 of this story… See part 3 of this story…