Meet Me In A House of Love in The Stuff That's Not Interesting But Is The Most Interesting Stuff I'll Write

I had a complete mental breakdown a few weeks ago that sent me spiraling out into realms that I'd previously left unvisited. I felt so rejected by JD, and I didn't realize that I have severe abandonment issues... it should be obvious to me, but somehow that slight felt like a shotgun blast to the chest.

I didn't sleep for 15 days straight. I was not sober for any of those 15 days. I missed most of my classes over those 15 days. I was never home. Instead I was in seedy gay bars in the fringes of Los Angeles or driving out to the desert or tucked away in the corner of some bathhouse watching other people fuck to feel. Amazingly, I remained rather closed off and isolated.

It wasn't until I hung out with my friend Jonathan that I finally came out of the darkness that had swallowed me whole. Jonathan was my friend's boyfriend, but he had broken up with Jonathan rather abruptly and left Jonathan somewhat shattered. Now, he knew that I was in a similarly broken state-of-being but he still chose to come home with me that night.

For some reason, it felt completely normal. And I swallowed. A lot. It was that good. It was the first sex I'd had since Cesar had left for Palm Springs... at the beginning of January. And it wasn't really sex... it was just me trying to find a breakthrough and my breakthroughs always come in the form of sex.

When I woke up the next morning, as if the semen had been sprinkled on my face as a kind of absolution, I felt rested. Sane. I felt sober.

I logged onto my Facebook to see that my former English teacher had written a rather intriguing comment on one of my pictures. She said that maybe it's time for my "India/guru years to begin" which I found to be a very pithy response in a time of madness. What would that even look like?

I think it means I need to approach things a bit gentler. I feel so removed from my life. I ran into Mikey, the guy I tried to date before Cesar came around, a few nights ago and I could see that he was just playing with me. He wasn't really happy to see me; he was being a typical SoCal gay.

I'm not sure I'm cut out to have massive groups of friends. Everybody always comments on how I "know everyone" and I "have so many friends." Everybody knows who I am, that's completely different than knowing me. The legends and the rumors circulate on many levels, but that doesn't mean that I'm somehow close with these people who speculate about why I was in the desert on Friday, or what did I mean that I'd been sitting next to 2 men fucking in a hot tub.

Sunday night, I randomly ended up in the company of two straight men who were definitely not the most open and accepting, but for whatever reason, I got along with them. I remember that those friendships always end in fury on my end, but you know what, maybe it's time to let the fury and the abandonment go. We should seek to find ourselves permanently residing in a place of acceptance and love. How can I make my way there and stay there? Only if we meet in the middle.