gay

March 1, 2022

The Soundtrack of My Life – 8 – High Hopes

The beauty of this song is that it perfectly encapsulates the person it represents in my mind. It has this very high energy, happy beat that gives the impression that the lyrics encased match it’s tempo. When you really look at them they are not. They speak of constant struggle and strife while always maintaining an enthusiastic demeanor. But they’re sung in such a way that it tricks the casual listener. It’s only those who truly listen that will know.

Let us also not fail to mention that it is also an awesome song choice to play in Beat Saber.

Tony is someone who seemed to magically appear out of the ether. As if he was called from some mystical place to my and my husbands world. I had had no idea that he and my husband had been talking. It wasn’t until late one evening, as Charlie and I were relaxing in the hot tub, that he informed me that someone was coming over to join us. My skin prickled with excitement because I thought he was coming over for… uh… other reasons besides to have a couple drinks and soak in the warm water.

He arrived, stripped down to his birthday suit, and hopped in. We spent hours talking, and much to his and my husband’s dismay, I lingered much longer than they had anticipated. Half drunk at 2 in the morning I had to be an adult and get to bed. It was a work night, and unless I wanted a massive hangover it was best for me to skedaddle.

Reluctantly I went to bed… Then I woke up with a start and looked out the bedroom window and saw the two having a very intimate time. Upset I packed up some clothes and headed over to my mother’s to sleep in her spare room. My husband called to inquire my whereabouts and I said I just had to get out of there.

Tony left, drunk, because he felt like he had upset the balance and didn’t want to be involved in the drama.

After some thinking I realized why it bothered me so much. It wasn’t that I had seen them together. That is one of my weird sexual kinks. Why I got upset was, like I had mentioned earlier, I had assumed it was meant to be a group effort. Which it was not. There was a lack of communication on my husband’s part. Had I been informed, it wouldn’t have been a thing. I would have also gotten way more sleep than I ended up getting. This episode was merely something we could learn and grow from.

The next day I found Tony on Scruff and apologized. I told him that there was no hard feelings I was just drunk and being weird. I didn’t want this episode to ruin anything between him and Charlie.

It surprisingly did not.

He came over the next night and brought along his PS4. He had the whole VR set-up and we ended up playing Beat Saber, this ADORABLE little robot game, and one based around the Paranormal Activity movies. It was a blast.

Tony invited himself to one of Charlie’s appointments at Cedars-Sinai. It was the follow-up nerve test to see what change their was from February. As it turns out, there was a lot. The next appointment that Tony invited himself to was the one where the doctor casually dropped his diagnosis. However, my husband did not pay any attention. Because, when we read it a couple days later on his patient-portal synopsis we both had a breakdown.

That night Charlie, Tony, Josh and I all hopped into the hot-tub and drank. What else do you do when you’ve been given news that you have a terminal illness?

For lack of any term, I have stolen the one coined by the Mormon polygamists. Instead of sister-wives I call Tony my brother-husband. I would do anything for him. He very quickly became a huge part of Charlie’s and my life. And one I wouldn’t and couldn’t do without. Everyday I thank the universe for sending out the call, or answering it, and having him arrive.

As it turns out, he has been in our orbit, but as a secret shadow planet that only comes into view every millennia. He had attended many of the offensive comedy shows I had been in, he LITERALLY worked down the street from me (he and his work mates used to watch me bizarrely pull up into a parking space in front of their shop and smoke cigarettes) and he knows so many of our random acquaintances. That last one is common in a small town, though. So it isn’t that out of the ordinary.

I chose this song mainly because it was a repeated choice while playing Beat Saber in our old living room. (That and “Greatest Show.”) It also matches how I feel about him. He always has high hopes and is such an optimistic person. Always. Every once in awhile it cracks under the exhaustion of trying to maintain the show. But with a little intermission he is right back to it. The only thing in the song that doesn’t match is he is one in a million.

P.S. I will eventually delve into more obscure songs at some point in time. I feel like everything so far has been “Top 40” and I am better than that.

P.P.S. I will also eventually catch up to the proper order. I’m a blog behind in my goal.

February 4, 2022

The Soundtrack of My Life – 5 – Falling In

If you don’t know by now, the husband and I are polyamorous. We have been for about 4 years now. While it was shaky at first we learned and grew through communication. If you’re ever going to attempt such an endeavor you have to have an open dialogue, heart, and mind. Without these it will end in failure. Guaranteed. Everyone needs to be on the same page.

When we first started it wasn’t that way. We “opened up” our relationship just to shut it down again. The husband says we never did and I explicitly remember when I said “fine. we’ll go back to how it was.” We were on an overpass merging from I-5 toward Half-Moon Bay. Regardless of what I remember transpiring, he started seeing someone in secret. When I learned of this relationship I decided I was going to see another gentleman too.

Josh messaged me for the first time as I sat in the hallway outside of my, soon to start, speech class. We hit it off instantly, talking about Harry Potter and Pokémon. After I made an off-hand Harry Potter reference/joke he commented “why do you have to be married?” I responded with my then go-to explanation of: it was open but wasn’t and who knew what was going to happen.

We chatted for a couple days and at the end of my next speech class I agreed to meet him in the student parking lot for a chat. He was(is) so handsome. Just my type. Scruffy with brown eyes. Without hesitation, we decided to meet up on the day of our next class.

I had intended it to be a once and done hook-up, as I like to do. However that is not what happened.

On a really stormy, rainy day I agreed to see “Black Panther” with him. (Side note: most of the more pivotal moments of my recent life have been met with some extreme weather. It’s odd.) After the movie I asked if he wanted to go with me to a friend’s house to hang out. He agreed and we went to visit my then girl-besty.

On the drive over there I called to let her know what was up and I made a point to say “This dude wants more but it’s not going to happen.” Oh, how foolish I was.

He was conflicted about dating someone already married. He wanted the usual things: monogamy, marriage, and kids. Those are difficult to achieve when the person you’re dating cannot offer them. However, on a trip to visit a friend of his in North Carolina, we agreed to date. This was of course, after St. Patrick’s Day when the husband and I had outed ourselves to the other about the guys we had been seeing on the side.

Four years later and Josh is still around. So much for “not going to happen.”

And I don’t know what I would do without him.

It’s weird. We are very similar in SO many ways, but yet so opposite. We’re both named Joshua (obvs). Our birthday is two days apart, we’re both Scorpios. We are both giant nerds. And we were both raised in very religious homes. Where our similarities depart is where I ditched most of my faith at 17, he doubled down and went on mission trips in Africa and later worked for a religious non-profit. At one point he was engaged to a woman, or had intended to… I forget the specific details. Either way… he was living the hetero fantasy.

When we started talking he had only been out for a year. That’s still crazy to me.

The song I chose was one I shared with him, while sitting in his car chatting; in the same school parking lot where I had met him to make sure he wasn’t crazy. He is, but he fooled me that day. So, kudos to him.

I was so hung-up on his religious past that every time a Lifehouse song came on my “Mumford and Sons” Pandora station I would think of him. This one truly spoke to me because it was right as I was falling for this dude. That’s kind of the problem with dating people and not just banging them. Well, I guess that isn’t entirely true considering…

Since then he has spent holidays with my in-laws and gone on cross country trips with Charlie, Charlie’s boyfriend (Tony), and I. We are this weird little family compiled of lost souls. And to think, it all started from a random conversation on Grindr.

January 5, 2022

The Soundtrack of My Life – 1 – Announcing a Goal

Music is truly magical for me. It can unlock my deepest emotions and bring to mind memories I had long forgotten. It’s incredible. I don’t know if many have that ability, but I do. Which is why sometimes I go through phases where I cannot bear to even listen to any music. I’m so overwhelmed with my current reality that all I am willing to listen to is spoken word (ie comedy albums, podcasts, audiobooks.) But sometimes even those can come accompanied with a euphoric recall. (Except for the book on tape “Rock your Revisions,” that just brings out agonizing anxiety.)

Like any writer worth their digital ink, I wanted to write throughout 2022. Specifically so I can hone my craft but also because I need to do things that are just for me. I need a hobby. I have to have something to alleviate the pressure inside my head. (The space in which I reside the most, by the way.)

Wanting this, I began to run through the parameters for myself. I considered writing everyday… But that is an unrealistic expectation. Life inevitably gets in the way. Especially mine. Which is why I have scaled it back to a more manageable and achievable goal, and in the end that’s how you want to do something. Therefore I thought once a week is good. In the end I will write 52 blog posts and have succeeded in completing my task.

While weekly is a more than manageable goal, the next obstacle is: what do I write about? The only thing I know more than my own imagined fantasies is my own life. I am also SUPER obsessed with myself. I mean… how could I not be? (P.S. I am kidding… Sort of.) There is nothing I love to talk about more than myself. And the topic I enjoy even more is sifting through memories.

The one thing that trauma and emotional distress has shown me is that it loves to take away my memory. My brain used to be sharp as an obsidian arrowhead but since the death of my father, my mother’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis, my husbands terminal diagnosis, and fucking covid, what super brain-power I use to have has fallen by the wayside. Instead I am lucky if I can hold onto short-term tasks. It sucks. Therefore… music.

Trauma may have taken my active memory recall, as in if I try to specifically remember something specific I cannot, however music remains powerful. So, I am going to pick a song, an album, or even a mundane tune, I’ve heard over the course of my life that has attached itself to my memory and write about it. Hopefully these posts won’t be as longwinded as these last two sentences. (Good lawd.) And even on an off-day, when I can barely hold onto my sanity, I’ll use a new diddy to write about something equally undiscovered. The best part of all this: I get to share some music with you. And more than the love I have for talking about myself, and even more than reminiscing about the past, I am excited/elated/ecstatic to share a song with someone. It’s one of my weird love languages. If I send a song to you, it means it unlocked apart of me that thought of you and that will live with me forever. It can and never will be replaced/erased. It belongs to you.

December 2, 2021

Midnight Memories

So to set the scene I recommend listening to “Blinding Lights” by Loi. It’s probably the best version of the song and the tone of it completely encapsulates the memory I’m going to share.

The first thing my husband ever said to me was through an instant message on AOL. He let me know that he and Diego were still together and not knowing who he was (and being the annoying teenager I was) I continued on the conversation as if I knew him and what he was talking about. I finally dropped my charade and asked him who he was and it was then that I added him to my buddy list, cchuck77383. From then on I would message him whenever he came online because I just knew things with him and Diego were on the way out.

This all happened at the very end of September 2003 after an abrupt break-up with my third boyfriend. (Who has since passed of stage 4 cancer.)

I was taken by him (my husband) because he happened to share that my ex wanted him, but my husband was not even remotely interested. This made cchuck77383 immediately attractive to me.

I wasn’t a good person then and I know that now… but regardless of what got me to meet with this man doesn’t matter now. I am still here.

After things with Diego fizzled out he agreed to meet me one late night at a Denny’s.

I put on “sleeping beauty” in my bedroom, snuck out my window, and drove across town to meet this stranger I had only ever spoke with online.

He didn’t tell me what he drove, but I knew he had arrived the moment his white mustang drove past me. For the next hour or so we sat in a booth talking, while I watched him nervously spin his silver Motorola flip phone, twitch his nose, and run his index knuckle up his phantom mustache.

For whatever reason he liked me and invited me over to his apartment downtown to watch a movie.

The first thing we ever watched together was Philadelphia. Which, if you don’t know, is the story about a man dying of AIDS. He swears now he had never seen it, but I remember him telling me it was a good one to watch. However he had also just started collecting DVDs at the time and it is highly likely that he hadn’t. I tend to rely to heavily on my own memory. And I am (at times) wrong.

That early morning, when the movie had ended, he walked me to my car and kissed me, wishing me good night. I drove away thinking I would never see him again, feeling satisfied that I got to make-out with the guy my ex wanted but couldn’t have.

Little did I know that this dude would then call me every subsequent day and talk my ear off. There isn’t a day since that he hasn’t. It kills me most to know that his disease will eventually take that from me. I have spoken with him at length ever since then and to think I will have to face a day where I don’t just cuts my gut.