At Last...

I never thought I'd hear those three words again. You know the ones I'm talking about.

And then, it happened. And at first, for a few moments, I was scared of the implications those words had, the power. I said something like, you don't mean that. Maybe it's not a good idea to throw such strong words around.

But as the evening progressed and I looked into your eyes, I knew you meant it. I could see it--that intensity, that electricity that comes with knowing something in your bones. And it was then that I realized that I felt the same way. I just needed to not be so afraid and take the plunge.

Here's the thing, I've been there and back again in the five years since you and I first spoke to each other and eventually parted ways (by my own idiotic doing--I'll never forgive myself). I've done the drugs and partied hearty. I've met one or two girls in my life that I thought had real potential but eventually fucked me over.

But what I finally realize is this: All that time, I was just waiting for you to find me again. And you did. You scoured the Internet for me. You searched and you searched and you searched. And you did it.

You came back to me.

I wish I hadn't been such an idiot all those years ago. I must have been so out of it, I don't even remember calling you to tell you that I was no longer interested. I didn't realize how much it hurt you. I don't know what I did to deserve such a lovely woman like you re-enter my life, give me a second chance or why I stuck in your head or why you would search me out again, but I am blessed that you did, because you are my angel. And if this all works out, this thing we have, I will dedicate the rest of my life to making it up to you, making you happy.

This weekend was magical, sweetheart.

I know now that you are the girl I've been waiting for. Like you, I know it in my heart. And while I have been wrong before, this seems completely different. Besides, I have to believe that there is a reason we found each other again after so long. I don't think I've been so completely happy in a long time. You should see the dopey grin that's been on my face, the past two days. Ear to ear. I think about you and my heart rate goes up and I just get warm all over. I absolutely melt.

I had a feeling that, from the moment we stepped onto that escalator going down at the airport that we truly were the two peas in a pod that we had spoken about on the phone, online. The zoo trip confirmed my thoughts and by the time we hiked up that god-awful, gigantic hill, causing me to nearly pass out from exhaustion, if not dehydration, I knew it.

I had fallen for you. You had me under your spell. By the time we danced, I realized that this could be the beginning of Something Great. Far greater than anything I've ever been a part of. We didn't just have chemistry, we had passion! Something that I think both of us have lacked for quite a long time.

And it was spectacular!!

Knowing how both of us feels, and after all that's been said and done, the next little while, we're going to have to work harder than we've ever had to work to claw our way out of the giant holes we've been stuck in for so long, dug by ourselves. I believe we can do it because I believe in you and me. We've come this far. Now, it's all about learning to push forward a little further in order to start an amazing, exciting life with each other (and a certain peedle!!), rather than the one we're both been merely content and/or bored with.

And I know it will be worth it.

Because I have to believe and have faith that good things come to those who wait. And angel, I've been waiting for someone like you all of my life. You are beautiful, smart, sexy, funny, sincere and genuine. So, when you say those three words, how can I not respond with anything but the following...??

I love you, too.

Absolutely, positively, without a shadow of a doubt.

American Idol?

Look, call me Nature Boy, but I just want to love and be loved, alright?

There's this girl out there. I'll call her Lina, who thinks I'm the absolute shit. We've known each other for years and the thing is, she's got this crazy misconception that I am like this perfect, brilliant, hot young stud.

And, ya know, while I'm not one to turn down such flattery (thank you, thank you thank you!!!!!!), I'm far from the Perfect Man she thinks I am. The truth is, as many of you have come to realize by reading this here blog, I've got a lot o' shit going on in this ol' noggin mine. I'm a pretty flawed individual with a lot of issues: self-involved, addictive personality, potty-humored, potty-mouthed, paranoid, germaphobic, low self-esteem. Throw on top of that that I'm attracted to girls and boys...you've got yourself quite a handful to deal with.

But I try.

And I've tried to change a lot about myself, over the years, but the thing I've learned most is that I am who I am and I gotta be who I wanna be...not what someone else wants me to be or who they think I should be. I recently told a buddy that, when it comes to his new special lady friend, he should just be himself and the rest will work out on its own.

I don't think a lot of people get that. They really don't.

They are constantly re-inventing themselves or putting on airs or pimping their rides or homes or whatever is popular to pimp, these days. It really makes me sad. Just a few months ago, I recall a friend being turned down by a girl--and made fun of--because she thought he was gay, despite his protests. Well, ya know what, lady? The person you fall in love with, the perfect man? He's probably going to be nothing like you pictured him as. Same goes for you, fellas.

I understand: a person what a person wants. And yeah, I do believe there's someone out there for everyone, but people are so hellbent on finding that person, that perfect sculpture that they've chiseled away at for so long in their minds, that they don't see a good thing when they have one or they find what they're looking for and they realize, wow...what was I thinking?

It makes me angry when Lina talks to me as if I'm her great white hope. I'm not. Not by any stretch of the imagination. I'm no saint and I am certainly not perfect or, at least, the American Idol she apparently thinks me to be. I do, however, think the world of her and enjoy it when we just gets down to the level, so that we can just talk and enjoy each other's company. Just two people being who they are, rather than who they should be, who they never will be.

See, the thing is...I don't want to be worshiped or idolized.

I want to be loved.

I truly think people mistake the two for each other far too easily and far too often.

Gushing Sentiments

I never thought I'd say this, but lately, I feel just like Matthew McConaughy...and not just because of my bronzed, hairless, Adonis-like physique.

HA! I kid! I kid!

No, I feel like the character he played in "Dazed & Confused," Wooderson. You know, the old guy hangin' out with the young'ns. See, I have this brand new crew of friends and I'm, like, the geriatric of the group. The oldest one is 20, making them seven years younger than all of them.

Here's the thing, though, what they may not have in years, they make up for it in brains, gut-wrenching humor and, above all things, heart. I wish I had such a closely-knit group of friends back in the day, high school and such. Oh, don't get me wrong, I had a great group of friends in high school (we have since, for the most part, disbanded) and a few while in college (Kevin, Justin, Sharon). One of them is probably reading this as we speak (Yes, Crysi Dawn...that would be you, dear. We sure go back a loooooong ways, don't we?! HOLLA!!!). And yes, there will always be the three amigos (Matteo, Justin and I).

Never, though, have I have had or seen a group--a large group for that matter--of friends so fiercely loyal to one another than the crew I've been hanging out with, lately. Even when there's drama, even when they're ribbing each other, their love for one another radiates throughout the room. You can feel it. And I am a lucky guy to have been so wholeheartedly embraced by them.

So, to Erik, Andy, Steph, Joel, Jeremy and Mutton Chops (okay...Joe, too)...

I'm really grateful to have all of you in my lives. I love you guys to death. Pure and simple. You're unique in all the best ways.

Never change. Not a one of you.

Okay, my girlish, emotional moment is over.

Now, where did I put that damn penis?!

Mom # 2

I never thought you would be gone so soon.

I remember talking to you, nearly a year ago. It is with great regret and embarrassment when I remind you that, at the time, I was speaking ill of your son, one of my best friends in the world. I was so angry with him for one reason or another. And I just vented to you...About your own son!! And as hard as it was for you to probably hear, you were so understanding and kind and lovely. You just...listened.

And then you told your son that I was upset with him. Your son called me up to confront me about my grievances like the man I should have been in that moment and I remember, at the time, being so angry that you had done that. I had this wrongheaded idea in my head that you had violated my confidence, my trust. And looking back now--now that you're gone--it just...I realize just how stupid, how silly it was of me to be angry with you. I wish I hadn't been so naive that I couldn't understand that what you were doing what any great mom should do: Teach their children to handle things themselves.

Because you're not gonna be here forever.

That was the last time we ever spoke, you and I. You died very suddenly on April 11, 2008, of a heart attack. And I wish I could have said "goodbye." I wish I had been able to talk to you one more time on the phone like we used to do. Remember those chats? We'd talk for an hour--sometimes two hours--at a time. We would laugh and confide in one another. And you would be such an amazing cheerleader to me. You would get so excited whenever something good happened to me. And if I got hurt by someone or if I was having a bad time, I'd call you knowing that you would do your damnedest to build me up and, even if it was just a brief moment, make me smile. You'd let me talk your ear off.

I remember how, when I turned 26, last year, you managed to perform a small miracle and persuade your husband--the infamously cranky yet lovable and wise fellow that he is--to call me up and sing Happy Birthday with you. I couldn't help but be touched. I couldn't help but grin, ear to ear, and cry at the same time. You did that. That was all you. And I can't help but feel that residual warmth rush over me, just thinking about that moment now, as I write this.

You may not have been my real mom, but you meant so much to me. You made me feel like I was a part of your family. And I will be forever grateful for what you brought to my life...and what you've left behind.

Your kindness and grace and light will be missed by all who knew you.

Eargasm

Is it possible to have an orgasm in your ears?

Well, maybe not.

But I'll tell you something: tonight, when I saw Dennis DeYoung, one of the founding members, as well as writer, lead singer and keyboardist for the band Styx, perform my all-time favorite song, "Come Sail Away" (ya better get that call-tune queued up for me, by the time I call next, Crysi Dawn, my little chickadee!! Though, I will admit, it is still hard out there for a pimp and no, I haven't stopped believing. Wink, wink...nudge nudge), I think it's about as close to having a sexual climax of the auditory system as I'm ever gonna get.

I've been to several concerts in my time--some pretty big names, too. Let's see: U2, Celine Dion, Sarah McLachlan, Coldplay, Bon Jovi...Hootie and the Blowfish (hmmm...). I'll also be seeing the reunion tour of Sting and the Police, with Elvis Costello opening for them, in a couple of weeks. Though, I'm still kicking myself in my gigantic ghetto booty for missing the Rufus Wainwright concert, but what can you do? Besides, Rufe's not gonna run out of his trademark angst. Well, at least, not anytime soon. Though, he does seem to be happy with his boyfriend, Jörn (whoa, what is this? "Lives of the Rich and Famous?!) He'll be back. I've also seen some pretty darn obscure--but just as amazing, if not more--live acts (Kyle Koliha, Albert Cummings, Mingo Fishtrap).

But this single song being played, man. Backed by a robust 39-piece orchestra, live at The Holland Center in The Old Market? It was one of the most dizzying, euphoric experiences of my life.

I, quite literally, was move. To. Tears. Hell, every inch of my body was moved. My synapses were set to "extra crispy" and fried by the time it was over.

And that was just the performance.

I love, love, LOVE that fucking song. It is everything that I'm about. It encompasses all that I love and know about life. To me, the song is about our dreams, our endeavors, the choices we make, the paths we take. And sometimes, we miss the boat, but we do what we can to right the ship and work through whatever wreckage and find a way to shore.

I've made a lot of mistakes over the years; some foolish, some well-intentioned, some small, some big and some, well, catastrophic. But, like the songs says, I carry on. And I live my life. And I see all these people from my past--school, work, etc.--getting their lives in order, starting families and sometimes, I cry. Other times, I panic and I wonder what I'm doing wrong. And eventually, it hits me.

There is no right and there is no wrong. Life is about pushing forward, from one day to the next and having family and friends and not giving up and not backing down and just giving it your all, no matter how dreadful you think the next day will be. It's about fighting the fight. If you can do that...than you're golden.

I want to close this entry with a quote, a message if you will, that Mr. DeYoung ended his majestic performance with that was so simple but so honest and true and real and powerful that I just wanted to hug myself.

"In life, there are winners and there are losers. Wanna know what a winner is? It's a loser...who gives it one more try."