Sunday, August 25, 2002

I rolled over in bed to find it was 4AM - where am I ? Nope - it's my comfortable bed, my sleeping dog, I'm all in one piece - then why do I have this horrible feeling...

Oh yeah.
I got drunk.
Not a little.
A lot.
Shouldn't have been driving drunk.
Your smarter than that drunk.
Oh my God what did you say drunk.

I left the memorial and drove to my parents, I sped down their street like a maniac actually causing a neighbor to run into the street cursing me - I thought about egging him on - come fuck with me - see what you get - the misconstrued notion of a a "fag bashing" - this fag - beating the living crap out of some mormon father on his high horse. Pretty, huh?

I burst into my parents house - the remnants of a gentleman - my favorite tie pulled apart - my crisp white dress shirt splattered with red eyes swollen, red, tears spilling forth. Pretty, huh?

I watched the little league championships with my parents, tears streaming down my cheeks - I broke down repeatedly - sobbing. I lost it. Was I crying for Mike, was I crying for Lucky, was I crying for me? It was all blurring together. How much wine had I drunk anyway? ( I was nervous - I remember standing at Noah's - people looking at pictures of Mike - friends crying - why don't I do that? Why can't I feel that? I think I nailed back 2 bottles by myself - there was food - I should eat - but I think I did just want to be drunk - numb.) My parents were kind - they hugged me, they consoled me - their toughest kid, the one who never let's them see what he's feeling - somehow confusing lack of emotion with being butch - somehow convinced that if he acts tough he seems less gay to them (am I suddenly realizing this about myself?). My father notices that I might be just a little bit inebreatiated. He wonders if the one beer I have had since getting to my parents - has had an effect on me. Kinda funny. Kentucky wins the game...I leave. I drive slower this time.

I go back to Noah's - the people staying the night there have switched to pajamas.
Where did you disappear to?
Where did you go?
I think they were watching movies. I can't sit still. I'm fucked up. Their bumping. Not what I need - so I go ahead and do it.
I end up having a very heavy conversation with the one I adore - but wants more than I can offer. The tension between us is terrible. He's really fucked up. Me booze - him K. Two different worlds - doubt the conversation even made sense. I remember feeling moral - emotional - drunk - damn, I'm dreading what I said. And then I think I came on to cute little Bryan - or did I think about what it would be like to come on to cute little Bryan ? Sad - I'm not sure of which. I left - snuck out again. Too fucking messy - can't do this - can't be here. Took off and went home. Pretty, huh?

A long lost friend called from Milwaukee - he'll be in town tomorrow - crap - what did I say - I'm pretty sure I told him I wanted to fuck him while I was here. I'm sure he was as surprised as his boyfriend sitting next to him. I'll apologize tomorrow - to him, to my parents, to the neighbors, to God, to everyone.

I stumbled into bed - pulling my Baby close to me.