will you still?

We sat at the bar after the burlesque show, all of us lined up and then wrapping around the corner. We made suggestive comments and did shots as we waited for the sort of greasy food that you use to celebrate the end of something. We laughed and joked, drank and were happy. When we finished eating and got up to leave, I thought to myself "i'm going to miss this" and I stopped to consider what that meant.

I'd been struggling with the idea of if I should stay or if I should go and had considered myself on the fence in regard to the matter. Earlier in the evening I'd been to a birthday party and the birthday girl was reveling in the fact that she and I were in New Orleans again (we'd both left and come back) and the points she was making made me want to stay. She told me 'this is the place that loves you, even if you go and then come back; they love you here, they welcome you back'. She was speaking of both of us and she didn't have any idea that I was considering moving away. She told me that what she loved about New Orleans was the fact that any time, any place, there would be someone here wanting you to be with them and missing you if you weren't. She'd thought no one would show up for her birthday when the day had gotten late and guests hadn't really started arriving. As the evening wore on, more people than she'd expected showed for the celebration, to wish her well, to love her.

Eating at the bar after the show with all of the people that I've gotten to know, become close to recently I had the sort of moment you want to stretch past the night, into the next day and carry pieces of it with you everywhere you go. You laugh and at the end of the night your cheeks are sore from all the smiling, but that makes you happy too.

But that's sometimes the way life is, isn't it? It waits until you have a moment of happiness to let you come to a decision that is going to be difficult. It wraps a hard choice in a pretty moment so that it'll be easier to swallow. That's what last night felt like; like I'd enjoyed New Orleans so much that I didn't really have a right to object to the fact that I just might have to go, say goodbye and hope that the birthday girl was right; that it would love me still, when I return.

Just go (stay)

I sat talking to my mom on the phone listening to her tell me about her woes, which are similar to my own and I felt the ebbing toward a choice in my life that I had been resisting. I held the phone to my ear and realized that the idea of a move back out west was no longer one that was met with my own outright refusal, but rather with the quiet acceptance that it might not just be a possibility, but was becoming probable. She told me what her situation was and there, on the phone, i realized that I was considering it and told her as much. She wasn't entirely happy with the idea, but she understands that sometimes you just have to do what needs to be done.

It complicates things for me here though. I've made friends, grown close to people that I want in my life. People that I know will be, no matter if I stay or if I go, but the part they'll play will be instantly different based on the decision that I make, the future I rule out or embrace.

I have a lot to consider, when I lay my head down at night. I have a week to come to a final decision, start putting one foot in front of the other to start the march forward. I think I already know where I'm going, what comes next and I've started spreading the word that it's what I'm considering, but of course; as soon as I make mention of it, the world gives me more incentive to stay, makes it more difficult for me to go.

Be still

I'm laying in bed, with the french doors open, a cool wind blowing in. The curtains are drawn back, letting the sun shine on my face as I catch pieces of conversations from the unseen people walking below. The fabric of the flags lining the balconies on both sides of the street pops and snaps as the wind has it's say in how they hang, move, fly. The plastic beads that are tangled in the wrought iron from past celebrations dance one bauble at a time in rapid succession across the surface of the railing before being lifted up as though the wind were telling them to hush, for a moment. Cars pass, dogs bark and I lay here, thinking of the present and of the future.

Wind

They say that Ida is going to make things wet and windy tonight. The storm will hit east of here, but it'll bring some wind and rain with it.

It makes me think of 2002, when S and I had just moved down here. There were two tropical storms, a week apart from one another. The first opened a hole in the ceiling right near or bed and we decided to move before the second one, which turned out to be DURING the second one.

The movers took the big things for us, but we waded through the water and took the boxes of small things ourselves. S was wearing combat boots, laced high and I warned her about the potential of "swamp foot", which she laughed off, thinking I was making it up (her feet were pins and needles the next day). We got the last of the things moved just about the time the city got the pumps working and suddenly the knee level water we'd waded through was back down beneath the curb, where it belonged.

We stood in the window of our new place and watched the people outside. A man wearing a wetsuit with fins, carrying a drink in his hand, passed beneath our window before disappearing into a bar. We laughed and hugged in the window before changing into dry clothing and heading out to eat.

We sat down inside of Clover Grill, two of the only people in the restaurant that weren't working there. We watched CNN, listened to the cook and the waiter complain and it all seemed surreal and humorous somehow. We are hamburgers and watched the rain run down the big windows. We sat on the same side of the table and looked down the street toward our new apartment.

We went in that night and listened to the rain on the windows while we fished out parts to make the television work so we could watch the weather repots that would tell us if we should go, leave, see. We huddled alone together and it seemed, really, like there were just the two of us and then everything else. We went to sleep that night thinking we could wake to howling winds or apocalyptic scenery, but it didn't worry us for some reason; we weren't afraid (we were naively excited, perhaps).

That's the feeling that I look for today, how I'll know when I'm with the right person; everything will seem like it's going to be alright. Not just at moments when it might not be, but more often than not. I know that life isn't all peaches and cream, but when you've hit a dark patch and you can look at the person you are with and feel like everything is going to be all right because you are together, well... that's what we all hope for, right?

Dreams

I've been having a lot of seemingly prophetic and slightly disturbing dreams lately. I had another one last night:

I dreamed you decided to marry someone, not because you loved them, but because you were lonely. I was at your wedding because you'd invited me, but you wouldn't speak to me. You and your wedding party were taking pictures in my car, with the top down, and you looked so sad, but no one would let me near....

I've dreamt of people from the past persecuting me my current lifestyle, career and the choices I've made, while people from the present came to my defense, to my aid. I dreamed about living in a place where I didn't speak the language and I was smiling because I didn't have to answer any ones questions.

I don't know what argument my sleeping self is having with my waking mind, but they clash when I close my eyes and these dreams are the result of it all. I don't put a lot of stock into any one dream, but the fact that the last few nights have brought vivid thoughts about conflict in my life has to mean something.

Each of those dreams had me dodging the trouble at the end, solving it in a way that wasn't completely obvious or direct. They typically end with me adapting, dealing, changing the things that I'm able to and accepting the things that I can't. These dreams don't make me feel helpless, hopeless; they make me feel like I'm good at dealing with things, even if they don't turn out the way I might have hoped.

..I waited for you and you finally came to me. I knew if I spoke to you, you'd leave, so I kissed you on the cheek, wishing you the best silently, and I squeezed your hand to let you know that I'd be there for you...

what I've learned

It's been a long week. A very long week. It's come at the end of three consecutive weeks, all very similar in their hectic nature, but different in what they accomplished and what I learned from them

I had a staph infection in my leg (a spider bite that got irritated from all the standing/marching/walking/rubbing of tight fabric against it), which caused it to throb regularly during the most crucial moments, of course. It's almost completely gone now, but I can see the toxicity in my face in the photos from Carnal Carnivale, and I remember thinking very feverishly that i was determined to not let it get me down, but promising to pace myself, go home early when i could, rest (i didn't).

I've had a chance to get reacquainted with some old friends this week; ones that I'd lost track of and missed dearly over the last few years, who've come back into my life in a very short span of time. In the matter of a few days I picked up nearly where I left off with friends that I'd thought were lost to me due to changes in lifestyle, geography and circumstance. I'm happy to have found them again (to have found you all again). I realized that some people were keeping better tabs on me than I might of imagined and it made me feel cared for, loved, in a way that only old friends can make you feel.

I've also found that some impossible situations aren't as impossible as they might seem, some things that seemed probable have proven unlikely and that missing someone isn't the same as wanting them back in your life. I've seen doors close, others open and found that some things that I thought I wanted, I really don't, while other things that I never considered have presented themselves to me and made me appreciate fresh perspective. It's been a week/month/year for learning what I want, what I accept and what I won't.

I met with her last night for a drink and as I passed behind her, I hugged her, maybe just a little too much; like I was saying hello in a different way for the first time, or maybe some other way for the last. "Everything ok?", she asked and when i told her it was, she seemed slightly confused and laughed just a little. While we sat there, talking, having a drink, I reached out and touched her hair lightly; I'm a physically affectionate person but felt like i'd never really shown that to her.

We parted ways with a discussion of our where each of our weeks would take us and I hugged her, gave her a little kiss on the neck before she got in her car and drove away. I walked home, stopping to say hello and goodnight to Jenny Kay before going home to finish some work and then finally crawl into bed.

I have another model coming into town today to work with me. It's the last thing that I've got slated in a very busy week before I can spend some time on myself, relax a little, have some fun that doesn't lead on any parade, to any place really, except where I want it to. I plan on being lazy all day on Saturday and then in the evening going uptown to have dinner with my friend "Johnny Law" at Delachaise. All these things that I'll do that day will be for me, to make up for the celebrating i didn't do during the past week's celebrations; it's time that I started doing more of that.

Close

We've been getting along well, spending more time together than I'd imagined we would. We've gotten closer, more quickly than I might have thought would be the case. Maybe it was timing, maybe it was need but whatever the spark was, it was there for us both, it seemed.

I knew all along the impossibilities of our situations (I think we both did). It took a sobering moment to bring us back to who we are and what that means to each of our respective situations.

We sat over coffee, looking away as often as we looked at each other. We were quiet, kind to each other as we always are. We asked about the other persons past, explained our own and hugged goodbye, parting under the notion we'd think about were we could even go from here and come back to the conversation a few days later.

We've had some wonderful moments together and really appreciate each others company, but I think we both know that the most we can be hopeful for is friendship. In this case that isn't the consolation prize it might be otherwise. To count her among my friends would make me fortunate and I wouldn't dare under-appreciate that. I adore her and who knows, maybe the closeness that we have will make us the amazing friends to one another that it would seem we both need in our lives, the pressure of expectation being lifted allowing us to just be.

As she said it herself:
"... engulf ourselves in each other's warmth when/if it's needed. There's comfort in knowing that there will be someone to have a drink with, someone to watch as they eat, someone to hold hands or hug you when you need it, someone to watch a movie with....for the time being anyways."

I'll always be you your friend and am happy to have you in my life, no matter how.

Still though; I can't help but sigh a little.....

This is not Halloween

Yesterday would have been our seventh anniversary, but instead is the first after the divorce. When we got married we had a costume ball wedding here in New Orleans on Halloween and it was really all that you could have hoped for. This year, I haven't really put together a costume. I have an outfit I wore for fetish night and a variation I wear for Noisician Coalition, but I didn't have a Halloween costume, makeup, anything to mark the occasion. They were face painting people as zombies at Voodoo fest to try and break a record, but I didn't sign up, because I just wasn't feeling it.

I was appreciative of other peoples costumes and efforts, but i didn't feel like I was really a part of that. I felt detached from Halloween, like a spectator that had stumbled upon it rather than really belonging to it.

Later in the evening I spent some time with a friend and felt a moment of connectedness, but later had to confess to myself that it may have just been me feeling the need for it, rather than it being true. I left the festival, went home and cleaned up and headed out for the night. I texted my friend asking if they would like to meet me, but she had other plans and they included people that might be awkward for her to be around both of us at the same time. I told her not to worry, that I'd find another way to occupy myself and she thanked me for being a good friend.

I ran into Ella waiting for a drink at the bar that I'd been feeling I needed to make it a point to go to, to support, because they are some of my favorite people. She was dressed in the same costume S wore the last year we celebrated together and it made me a little sad to see, but I made sure not to let that show. We had a drink with Jessica before she said goodbye (she's headed home today) and then wandered up and down Decatur stopping so she could take pictures of costumes and admire them. We met up with her friends, lost them, met them again and then they were gone. I'd like to think that we were good company for one another, both of us appreciating the holiday, but not really having anyone to share that appreciation with, so to speak. I know that I was was happy for the company. Eventually I walked her back to Flanagans where I left her to wait for friends and I went home.

The weather was nice; I was thankful for the long red coat because it was just chilly enough to need it. I looked down at my mud covered boots, the product of a day of marching in wet grass and wasn't worried about getting them cleaned knowing there was another day of mud stomping ahead. I thought of the friend that I'd spent the day with and as I looked up from my muddy boots, I saw her ahead of me. We passed one another without saying a word, because she was with the awkward situation we'd been hoping to avoid when I decided not to go to the show she'd been at and they were holding hands.

I got home and laid in bed, thinking about Halloween, how it used to mean so much to me. I thought about the day I got married and how Halloween was such the perfect choice for it. I thought of all the happy Halloweens that I'd found a costume, even if it was last minute and marked that this was the first time in my life I didn't dress up and really celebrate. I missed the past, thinking my former self incapable of having not celebrated Halloween properly and how I wouldn't have stood for it. I thought somethings changed and I hope that it wont stay this way forever.

I closed my eyes and decided that next year I'm taking back Halloween. This year I let it happen to me, but next year I'm taking it back, it'll be mine again.

the other side of the lens

The model that's been visiting me from out of town went home today. We shot together all day yesterday and it turned out great, as it always does.
"I hope this doesnt sound strange" she said, "But I want to take your picture. I want you to get undressed and stand in front of the window. If that isn't too weird will you do that for me"?

I thought about it for a moment and decided it would be alright. She was inspired by the tall windows in my apartment and had a vision in mind, so I was happy to participate, just as she has been for me any number of times.

I stood stil;l where she placed me, waiting for her to put things just as she imagined them and then she walked backwards down the long narrow hall, through the far doors and pointed the lens at me.