Walk Two Moons in The Stuff That's Not Interesting But Is The Most Interesting Stuff I'll Write

As I was reading Charlize Theron’s comments about aging and getting older, I had a sudden realization about my friendship with Bane. Most of it came to light after reading an entry of mine from 2005, and what’s funny is that I knew it at that moment that I would be feeling like I’m feeling now… I just couldn’t have predicted the circumstances or who would be the one to make me feel that way.

My professor recently commented that I don’t seem to age. While initially, I would look at that as some kind of hollow comment, I know Johnnie. I can hear the way he would say that if I were standing right in front of him. He’s not being polite, he’s being astonished. But whatever, I’m not even really that over-the-moon about the comment because my reaction was really?! You can’t see how much I’ve aged?!

It’s not that I disbelieve him, it’s that I can see how I’ve aged. I can see my grandmother’s face reflected back at me, and honestly that gives a great amount of comfort. I know this sounds morbid and kind of odd, but I thought I’d never see her again. But now I see her every time I look in the mirror, and that makes me feel better and actually makes it hurt less.

The thing is, I think I don’t feel older… but that’s completely untrue.

I don’t have any interest in doing the things I used to do even if I had the energy. Or maybe I have the energy but now it just seems like I know that the rewards are inconsistent so why should I gamble on that situation? I’m not a gambler. I’m a wild adventurer, sure.

As I was reflecting on this, I suddenly put Bane into this equation… that’s when I realized why I only see him on certain occasions, even though he tells me he goes out every night (even nights when I go out and invite him). It’s because I’m his older friend. He’s 27 (he looks much older, which might sound unkind but when he told me his age, I was absolutely flabbergasted) and still has a lot of the energy of someone that age.

I was reading in 2005 about Daddy Rick. He was this 40-something guy who used to hang out around the 18+ gay club in Sacramento. I instantly recognized a few things about him and myself. First of all, I knew that I couldn’t really see him objectively because of all the sex offender brain washing I’d been through, so I couldn’t see him as a reasonably kind or interesting person, I only could see him as a manipulator… which he was, to some degree, but he was also a very kind and generous man who preferred to go around that group. He wasn’t a sugar daddy, he was always very respectful, but his very presence triggered something in me that made me incredibly… actionable.

I also knew that when I got to that age, I would probably be exactly the same as him and I needed to find a path to salvation for myself in trying to justify his character. But there is no salvation. Because there was no reason to judge him, even though I did just that. And the young people will do that to me. That’s life and fighting it will drive you mad.

And the madness has to end…