GREAT EXPECTATIONS
I discovered his blog tonight.

No, not Mr. Reporter. Not the Guitar God. Not even Red or the Cute Guy/Cute Brother. This is someone I haven't talked about yet.

When I was in college I hung out a lot with a Sensitive Poet. He was gay. I was the first person to whom he ever came out. We started spending a lot of time together right about the time I broke up with my Ex Boyfriend From Hell. The one who was emotionally abusive towards me & who spent most of our time together pressuring me to do sexual things I wasn't ready to do at the age of 19. What was nice about Sensitive Poet was that he was interested in all the parts of me that Ex Boyfriend couldn't care less about--what I liked to read, what music I was into, my thoughts & dreams, and all that good stuff that 2 people in a relationship should be able to share with each other. The downside was that he was absolutely not interested in me sexually. But at the time that was a relief. It was so wonderful just to hang out with a guy who genuinely enjoyed being with me and talking with me.

He eventually came out of the closet an ocean away, far away from the small judgmental minds of the rural shithole where we grew up. A year later he came back to the shithole and found a lover. I was ok with this. I was happy that he found someone, and for a while we were a happy threesome. Well, not THAT kind of threesome, obviously. But we had fun together.

But then something strange happened. They stopped hanging out with me. And I couldn't figure out why. To this day I don't know why they cut me out of their life. And yes, I meant "life" and not "lives". By this time they were firmly entrenched with each other as a couple. My last day in college (I graduated a semester before he did) was tearfully spent outside his dorm room pleading with him to tell me what was wrong. I never did find out. To this day I don't know why he so forcefully cut me out of his life. Maybe it was that he was out, and he didn't want any reminders of who he was when he was scared & closeted.

I tried a few times over the years to reconnect with him. The last time I spoke to him, in February 1998, we were on the phone and he hung up on me. I've sent him a couple of emails since then, but he's never responded to them.

He's on FB now. I didn't dare try to friend him out of fear that he would block me. But I did subscribe to him. I've never commented on anything he's said. I want to fly under the radar.

But tonight I had a reason for looking something up on his page, and that's where I saw the blog. And I clicked on the link. And as I read I was reminded of why I loved him so much. The guy's got more brains in his pinkie finger than I've got in my whole body. And he's into music on a level that makes me look like a casual listener. And he writes poetry.

I don't know if I'll ever find anyone like him. Someone with enough intelligence to take anything I can throw at him, with an understanding (even if not a liking) of the world around him. Someone who will actually give a damn about what I think. Who will actually listen to all the mix CDs I will inevitably create for him.

And yes, I want the sex too. But I want *both*. And I don't know if a man even exists on this planet who's capable of giving me all that.
- posted by Pat @ 12:42 AM