Wednesday, November 9, 2011

That for me, it isn't over.

People always say that it's hard to get over your first love, but I thought I would be further along by now.

It's not like I'm trying to get Lomond back. It just that I still think of him every day. He always seemed so sad, even when he was happy, and I wonder how he's doing. I saw him this past Friday at the Homecoming bonfire of our beloved unnamed Baptist university, but we didn't talk to each other. I'm not sure that he even noticed me.

That was just a day after I realized just how not over him I am. So here's the story.

A few weeks ago, I started messaging back and forth with this guy from PlentyofFish, let's call him Glatze. I wasn't particularly interested at first, but he kind of grew on me. Eventually our messages came to the point of being dirty, and hey, we were both lonely and horny. No harm in helping each other out. It only started to bother me when the dirty messages started to outnumber the non-dirty. I knew then that this probably wasn't the guy for me.

But anyway, he made plans to come up from Houston to see me on Halloween, and I actually had a pretty good time. First, I was doing a weapons and armor display at the local zoo's Halloween event, walking around in a full suit of plate armor and letting people punch me with a buckler. I had him meet me there at the zoo, and it was fun. Once the zoo event ended, he and I finally got to have a proper conversation, and we decided to get dinner at the Vietnamese place in town, which was good, and then we went walking around downtown trying to find a good place to have drinks, but all the places I like were closed. So then we went to his hotel room.

And that's when the evening went downhill. Making out was nice. It made me feel alive. But as we started taking our clothes off to do stuff, my attraction to him waned. That was only the second time I ever did stuff with a guy when I really wasn't into it. (The other time was two years ago with Pendejo.) So yeah.

For a couple days, I struggled with feeling guilty. My epiphany came on Thursday when I had my music on shuffle, and I had to skip three songs in a row because they all reminded me of Lomond. I realized that I really wasn't ready to pursue something with someone else, because I still carry Lomond around with me. Glatze tried to invite me to his office Christmas party, and I told him I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to tell him the truth about not being interested in him until that night. But it was better to tell him sooner, rather than leading him on.

So that's over. Meanwhile, I think I'm finally backing off from my obsession with Adele's album 21. The whole album is about her breakup, approached from several different angles, and every song seems like it was written just for me.

So there you go. I think of Lomond when I listen to music, when I go shopping, when I drive past his house on the way to my Grandma's... I'll get there eventually.

But I'm not there yet.


Sunday, August 21, 2011

Can I just say something?

I want to jump this guy's bones.

His name is Bastian, he calls himself the Wohnprinz and he lives in Lübeck, in northern Germany.

I've been subscribed to him on YouTube for months, ever since he was featured on an episode of Buck Factor, but this video pretty much pushed me over the edge. He wears Lederhosen and puts on a Bavarian accent, and for some reason, I find that incredibly sexy.

He is just so cute, funny, smart, and he has excellent taste. Plus, he's German. In other words, he's my future husband. I wish. We would have an impeccably decorated flat in Lübeck and a cozy vacation home in the Schwarzwald and we would adopt beautiful orphan babies and have a perfectly fabulous little German family.

If I ever met him in person, I would definitely have to fight the urge to pounce on him, rip his clothes off, and make love to him right then and there.


But enough about my obsession with a YouTube style guru who lives a third of the way around the world. I've sort of put myself back out there in the dating pool after taking a good while to get over the breakup with Lomond. I've revived my OkCupid account and joined PlentyofFish. I've had online conversations with several guys, and I had Starbuck's with one guy a couple weeks ago. Nothing has really come of it, since the pickings are pretty slim in my CenTex hometown, but that's okay for now, I guess. I'm not exactly in the best position to start dating anyone anyway, considering I live with my parents and have neither a job nor a car, but I'm working on that.

I'm generally feeling a lot better about myself than I was when I wrote my last post here. I've come to accept that there was nothing I could have done to stop the disintegration of my relationship with Lomond, and I've also more or less stopped being angry at Lomond for his actions. I even almost forgive him for telling me he doesn't want to be my friend when we met for Starbuck's a month ago, since he really can't help his emotional issues. He just needs to deal with them before he can have a successful relationship (which he himself realizes and which is why he stopped dating "Natasha").

So here we have a much calmer, much less teary Phillip Wilde, and I thank you all for being there for me.

And unfortunately, embedding has been disabled for the music video of my current happy song, so just click HERE.


Sunday, July 17, 2011

It's hardest at night.

One year ago today, we were in New York, celebrating our half-anniversary with cannoli, prosecco, and purple orchids.

Two months ago tomorrow, he broke up with me.

One month ago tomorrow, we had our last face-to-face meeting. That day, I learned that he had been seeing someone new for two weeks. That means he only lasted a week and a half after dumping me before he went to someone else. In his defense, the other guy asked him out, but it was still a very uncomfortable revelation. I almost wish I didn't know who the other guy was, so I wouldn't be tempted to stalk his Facebook page every day. But I do know who the guy is. Never met the guy, but I know his name, where he works, where he's from, what he studied in college, whom we both know... And that he is now dating the man I thought I would someday marry.

Lately, I've been watching a lot of Sex and the City reruns on E! Because of this, I can't help but feel like Carrie, with Lomond as Mr. Big and the new guy as Natasha, the beautiful socialite Big meets and marries so soon after breaking Carrie's heart by giving up on their relationship. So naturally this Natasha-type's existence has been difficult to deal with.

Equally difficult to deal with were that meeting's other revelations. Apparently, Lomond had not been entirely honest with me about his reasoning on the day he broke up with me. The potential long-distance thing wasn't the real reason at all; it was just easier, more convenient. Really, he had been stewing on his issues with me for months without ever saying a word about them to me. I realize that this is how some people function, but it goes completely against everything I ever told him about my mentality. I have social issues. I think I'm mildly autistic. It's something I have worked very hard to overcome by studying social interactions like a subject in school. I have made great progress over the years to the point that most people don't really notice it anymore, but I still cannot always read people's emotions. He and I discussed this on several occasions, and on each occasion I always made sure to let him know that he could and should tell me about anything about me that is bothering him. I can't improve myself if I don't know I'm doing something wrong.

Any time I could tell something was bothering him, I always asked him what was wrong. He usually said it was something with his family or general "looking for my purpose in life" stuff. Not until our meeting last month did I learn that quite often he was actually thinking of things that bothered him about me but which he was too chicken-shit to tell me about: our 6-year age difference, the fact that I don't go to church, my social missteps, my involvement in faire, how confident I am in my sexuality, to name a few. By not bringing up problems until they were bad enough to end the relationship, he gave me a false sense that our relationship had no major problems, so that I was completely blindsided when he ended it. I would call that his biggest offense.

The age difference never seemed like such a big deal to me. I imagine it was probably exaggerated in his mind when I had to move back into my parents' house. I can get that I seemed younger than I am, living with my parents and having neither a job nor a driver's license. What bothers me most about this is that he never gave any indication that this was an issue.

The religion comment I feel was a little out of line. I realize that as a seminary graduate and church organist, religion is important to him. What he failed to recognize was that I went through years of disillusionment, disbelief, and tears, feeling that I could never be accepted into a church (or heaven, for that matter) because of who I was and whom I loved. I experimented with other belief systems, syncretism, and the like but nothing felt quite right. That was before I realize there was such a thing as an "open and affirming" church, at least not ones that maintain the traditions I love so much about church. Although I am eager to visit such churches and potentially find a spiritual home there, not having a means of transportation has limited this pursuit. I can't comfortably go to these churches with my fundamentalist mother. I'll save a more detailed description of my spiritual journey for another post, but it's safe to say that I am getting closer and closer to belief in Christianity all the time, which makes Lomond's religion comment seem a bit like a "How dare you?" moment.

The social missteps I have already addressed, and faire is something that makes me happy. I never tried to force him to like it, and I could tell that he didn't really get it. That didn't bother me. But it did bother him that it makes me unavailable for eight weekends in a row every spring. That's a common issue in relationships where one person does faire and the other doesn't. Not really sure how that could have been dealt with.

As for being secure in my sexuality, I think that was a jealousy issue. I came to terms with being gay when I was 17 and I never looked back, confident in my belief that there was nothing wrong with it. Meanwhile, I think he still has doubts about it as he approaches 29. While I can't fault him for that, as the journey to acceptance is different for everybody, I will not apologize for having reached the destination so much sooner than he. I tried to help him on his way in a non-forceful manner, but I could tell he was never quite comfortable being in public with me in the capacity of boyfriend, even in gay-friendly environments and among complete strangers we will probably never see again.

I was dealing with the break-up much better before that meeting last month. Since then, I have struggled with depression, obsession, insomnia, binge eating, and more recently loss of appetite. Most of the time I am at least comfortably numb, dedicating time and energy to other pursuits - nutritional consciousness (a more accurate term than "dieting"), baking, gardening, knitting, reading a new webcomic, watching movies, and listening to a lot of music, especially Lady Gaga's Born This Way album. As a result, I have lost five pounds in the past month, have a few new favorite movies, and know how to knit socks. I've also enrolled in a teacher certification program, which I should be able to start by the end of next week.

But as the title of this post suggests, nights are difficult. Since I stayed an extra year at the Unnamed Baptist university, most of my best friends moved away a year ago, and now having graduated, they've pretty much all left. That left me with Lomond and his group - small but tightknit and fun to be around. With the breakup, however, he got to keep the friends, since they were his to begin with. That leaves me vary much alone. Lomond was not just my boyfriend, but my best friend as well. His abrupt absence from my life, combined with separation from almost everyone I spend time with aside from my own troubled family, makes it very hard to stay home alone every night. That is when I can't sleep because I am thinking of him with "Natasha", when I feel unwanted and unneeded, when I hope my parents can't hear me sobbing into my pillow because I feel so painfully lonely.

This certainly isn't a daily occurrence, but when it does come to the surface, I just feel like I have no control. Tonight it was triggered by the knowledge that he was out with "Natasha" and our his friends on our sesquianniversary. I'm feeling better now writing this, having analyzed things, put them into perspective, and figured out what is bothering me. I have decided on the advice of one of our friends that on Monday (Lomond's next day off from work) I will have a serious conversation with him about how we're going to make this friendship work, including some of the thoughts I expressed in this post. Here's hoping we can come to some sort of agreement and that our friendship is not a lost cause.

I leave you with my music therapy du jour:


Thursday, June 16, 2011

Hello, all.

WARNING: This post is very long and possibly depressing. It also talks candidly, but not at all explicitly about sex.

My last post was about a generally positive experience. This one not so much.

Just over four weeks ago, May 17 to be exact, Lomond and I broke up. Amicable, but that doesn't make it suck any less. So here's what happened:

Back on May 4 (May the Fourth be with you), I was in study days before final exams and Lomond had the day off, so he picked me up and we went to the old Rock Church in Norse, TX, because it is one of his favorite places and I had never been. We had a nice time looking at the beautiful old church and walking through the churchyard and smiling at all the delightful Norwegian names on the headstones.

On the drive back, however, he started talking about things. About how he feels drawn back to Africa, where he spent a summer interning for a charity a few years ago. About how he needs to be doing something to improve the world. About how his life here seems meaningless. We had been talking like this for about 30 minutes when I realized he was trying to break up with me. By then, we were getting back into town. We were on one of the main drags in town when the tears started building up in my eyes, but I don't know that he noticed yet, since my glasses have wide side pieces. We barely got inside his house before I fell apart. This then set him off the same way. He said he couldn't stand to see me cry.

I don't really remember how the ensuing conversation went, but it ended with weepy kissing and the discovery that he was out of condoms. So no break-up sex; just break-up fooling around. Afterward, I think we watched the previous night's Glee on Hulu before he took me home.

I held it together well enough that night, listened to some sad music. Then as I was about to go to bed, he called me having a very hard time with it, saying he didn't know whether he had done the right thing. I told him to go to bed and see how he felt in the morning.

The next afternoon, he says he needs to see me, so he comes to pick me up and we go to his house. Basically, he couldn't stop thinking that he had made a mistake. He had been talking to a few friends about it, and one of them pointed out that the conversation had been very one-sided, that he had not given me an opportunity to give my input on the matter. This friend also asked him, "This feeling that you made a mistake, is it in your head or in your gut?" Lomond said that it was in his gut. He also told me that he had realized how silly it was to end something good just because of the idea of going back to Africa when he had no idea when that might actually happen. So we agreed we had both made a silly mistake - him for suggesting it and me for going along with it - and we got back together. We made a run to the drugstore and had amazing make-up sex.

That weekend at faire, I confided in my friend Colour about what had happened, but didn't feel the need to tell anyone, since it was just a silly little hiccup. The next Tuesday, Lomond and I had our usual date night/Glee viewing followed by what may have been the best sex I've ever had. Just saying. That Saturday, he took a few hours from work to see me graduate from the Unnamed Baptist University, but had to go back to work before lunch.

But the next Tuesday (the aforementioned May 17), when we picked me up for our usual date night, I could tell something was bothering him. We were back at his house before we got to the heart of matter. He was having the same feelings as two weeks previous. I made it fairly clear that I may have just sat there and listened the first time, but I was going to stand my ground this time. When he kept bringing up all the same things he had before, I kept saying variations of "I'm not giving up on this." He asked what I thought we would do if he did go to Africa for 6 months, a year, or longer. I said we could deal with that when it was actually happening, but that I was willing to do long distance. I kept citing CSI Friend, whose husband is in Iraq for a year, as an example that it's hard, but doable. He kept saying that he didn't think he could do it. I realize that it was happening again and I went into defense mode. I said we would never know unless we tried, that we shouldn't give up on what we had just because it might be hard, that I wasn't going anywhere.

Then the song "And I Am Telling You" from Dreamgirls started playing in my head. For those not familiar, this song is sung by a woman who refuses to admit that her diva antics have ruined her career and pushed away the man she loved. She is fighting tooth and nail for something that is already gone. That is when I fell apart, buried my face in the bed and when Lomond questioned, I said, "I'm pathetic. I'm like Effie White, fighting to save something that's already gone."

By the time that conversation was done, it was almost time for Glee, so he ordered a pizza. In my mind, I thought, "You just broke up with me for the second time in two weeks. You can certainly buy me dinner." The Glee funeral episode, pizza, beer, and then several episodes of The United States of Tara. And that's how that night ended. The only people I told about it that weekend were Colour and Gelfling, but word spread around a bit. That's okay.

On his suggestion, we still got together the next Tuesday for the season finale of Glee. We picked up Panda Express and a bottle of wine on the way. I paid for the wine before he could even get to the counter. Glee was good, as were the wine and the Chinese food. We watched even more United States of Tara, and I got hooked. The evening seemed only minimally awkward, and I thought it was a good step toward staying friends, which he first suggested and which we both agreed we wanted to do.

We let the next week go by, which is probably a good thing, since my birthday was in that week, and it probably would have been awkward, especially considering how sweet he was on my last birthday. But then last Monday, I asked how he was doing and whether he wanted to hang out some time soon, since I had the once-lost English version of The Blue Angel on Netflix, and he said sure, since he loves foreign films, so we made plans for the next day. That day, however, while I was out on my first jog of my most recent health kick, he sent me a text saying that it seemed too soon. I responded that I was just making an effort to stay friends, but that I understood if he was feeling uncomfortable. Not that I wanted to be so understanding. I wanted to scream.

Now I feel like a selfish bitch, because he was supposed to put The United States of Tara on my new external drive. I mean, I want to see him too, I want to stay friends with him, but I still have my selfish motivations for wanting to see him. I'm thinking about texting him tomorrow to see if he wants to hang out. I have Heißer Sommer on Netflix. Maybe he won't be able to turn down a campy East German musical from the 60s.

I'll let you know how things go.


Monday, January 3, 2011

A milestone

I won't apologize for my lack of updates over the past few months, because it's just that I've just been busy and happy, nothing interesting to report.

But the past week or so has been monumental. Today, January 2, 2011, I came out to my mother.

Backing up, on December 18, 2010, I finally met Lomond's parents. He had called them to let them know that I would be at his choir concert in Austin, which they were also attending, so that they wouldn't be blind-sided by my presence. The wonderful thing was that Lomond's mom then said without needing to be asked, "Of course I would like to meet him." So he and I texted a bit when he wasn't on stage at the concert and decided he would come get me when it was over and then we would both approach them. It was a little awkward at first, as to be expected, and we could tell his dad was much more uncomfortable than his mom, but then she suggested we get something to eat before we drove back up to CenTex and they drove back up to the D/FW Metroplex. Over dinner, we didn't discuss our relationship, nor did it feel like a job interview. The Lomond family just had their normal conversation, and I joined in whenever I could. Overall, not bad. His dad even cracked a few jokes. Later on, Lomond's parents told him that I seemed very nice. I think that's what they needed, really - to see that I'm not a drag queen or a rent boy, but rather a regular nice guy.

Meanwhile, Lomond has been applying to doctorate programs in the Northeast, and if he goes, I'm going with him. Of course my family would expect some explanation as to why I was willing to move across country to be with him, so I decided I really needed to finish coming out to them. On December 17, an opportunity presented itself. While preparing to go to Austin and attend an Old-Fashioned Piano Party that night, I tried to make up for my lack of a haircut by trimming the little poofy curls on my temples that I hate so much. Bad idea.

I royally messed it up and had to make an emergency appointment with Sister #3, the hair stylist. While she was fixing my screw up, I mentioned that I was going to a party with Lomond and some of his friends. When she asked, "So who exactly is [Lomond], I gave her a look in the eyes which said, "I think you already know." Naturally, she was happy for me and wanted to know more about him, said that she and Sister #1 had been speculating about it, and asked when she would get to meet him.

That was when I made a plan:
I would have him meet all three sisters while they were all around for Christmas. Then they would be able to give support and vouch for how wonderful Lomond is when I finally came out to Mom later in the break - after New Year's, I decided, when people had left and stress was somewhat lower.

The mass meeting was set for the evening of December 26, under the guise of going to Starbucks and hanging out "just us kids." Sisters #1-3 and Sister #2's husband went with me to Starbucks to meet up with Lomond. It went rather well. Like the meeting with his parents, we more or less had the same conversation we would have had anyway, with just some casual questions about him and a clear acknowledgment of our relationship. It was nice, Sister #2 talked about how good a match we were all the way home, and Lomond said that although he was a bit quiet, he felt at home, that my siblings reminded him of his cousins up in NorTex.

With that under my belt, it remained only to come out to my parents. Today, despite us both feeling under the weather, Mom and I had a relatively good day. While she was out at the store, I decided tonight was the night. I dug out from their hiding place the booklets I had gotten at Austin Pride, and skimmed once more through PFLAG's "Our Daughters and Sons" before hiding it again somewhere more accessible.

When Mom got home, we ended up talking about various things as I waited for the right moment. It didn't come until after we both ate dinner and watched Extreme Makeover: Home Edition and Desperate Housewives. She said she was going to check her e-mail and then go to bed. Once she was done, this is more or less how it went:

Phillip Wilde: So you're pretty tired, then?
Mom: Yeah... is something wrong?
PW: No, nothing's wrong.
Mom: Something's wrong, I can tell.
PW: No. N-nothing is wrong.
Mom: If you have something to tell me, just tell me.
PW: You and I are pretty close, and I wouldn't want anything to change that...
Mom: Uh-huh...
PW: But I feel like I haven't been completely honest with you... Mom,... I'm gay.
Mom: I can believe that.

So she had had an inkling for sure. Which is good, because she would have to be pretty much blind not to. I mean, I haven't exactly been discreet about how much time I spend with Lomond. So after that was a long, drawn-out exchange of "Why'd you choose this?"/"I didn't choose it."/"God can change it if you ask."/"It's how God made me and I don't want to change."/"It's not what God wants."/"I think God made all kinds of different people and likes is that way." und so weiter, und so weiter. Eventually I said that it was just a different side of love, which made her ask whether I was in love. "Yes."/"With [Lomond]?"/"Yes."/"God has something better for you, and I don't mean a guy." I gave her the PFLAG booklet and asked her to read it. She said she would, but that it wouldn't change her mind, that her beliefs are too deep. I replied that this is part of who I am, and that won't ever be changed.

That's pretty much where it left off. She assured me that she will always love me unconditionally, but that she will be praying for God to turn my heart. Not perfect, but it could have been much worse. I still have a family, a place to live, and at least I've taken the first step. Now I honestly believe that she just needs time to think, to come around and realize that this is how I am and how I will always be. I texted Lomond, my sisters, and several savvy friends, and the responses have all been loving and affirming. I really do love you all and appreciate your support.

I'll update later when there is more to say, but for now, I'll leave you with Rufus:


Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Allow me to gush a bit.

I love Lomond so much. He is so sweet and thoughtful and I feel so lucky every day that I am with him.

On my birthday back in May, he came to the renfaire where I was working, wearing the outfit I picked out for him, and was very happy to be introduced to my friends as "mine". Once the faire closed for the day, we went back to his house and he said, "Don't come in the kitchen!" When he finally did allow me into the kitchen, he was standing there holding a slice of cheesecake with a candle in it.

My heart melted. I had told him once that I liked cheesecake, and he had made me one. Then he pointed to the table behind me and said "And those are for you." There stood a bundle of beautiful orange lilies. My heart melted even more.

Then we walked into his bedroom and said "And open that drawer." Inside, I found this:

Yep, he bought me a book with all the music and lyrics to my favorite musical of all time, Company. And inside the book was this card:

Yeah, I got me a good one.

Then in July, he and I went to New York for a week. We had a wonderful time, exploring the city organically, meeting up with my friend Schu, a couple of his friends, and celebrating our sixth monthaversary. We spent our special day exploring Greenwich Village and eating dinner at Caffè Palermo, known as the "Cannoli King of Little Italy". We gleefully declared six months to be the cannoli anniversary. Delish.

We also saw the Sondheim classic A Little Night Music, starring Bernadette Peters!

And Elaine Strich (the original Joanne from Company)!

Ms. Strich didn't stop to chat when she came out, but Ms. Peters was working the crowd. Unfortunately, I was completely speechless when I had a chance to talk to her, but she did sign my Playbill!

Anyway, New York was fabulous, but now we're back in Texas, and tomorrow is his birthday. Now I'm stressing a bit about what I could do for him to show how much I love and appreciate him. I'll figure something out.

Now enjoy some Scissor Sisters:


P.S. Lomond and I have been together seven months today. :D


Sunday, May 23, 2010

Basic update

I haven't posted in a while, but there really hasn't been much to say.

Lomond and I are still going strong and quite happy with each other.

Faire is going well. It feels good to be back.

Lomond and I are going to New York for a week in July. We found an amazing deal on a hotel on the Upper West Side.

He and I are also going with some friends to the Austin Pride in June. First pride for both of us.

And my 22nd birthday is next Sunday. I will be at faire. And so will Lomond. |D And I'm putting him in garb. It will be awesome.

So yeah, things are going pretty well.

And now, just for fun, I leave you with a look at what my blog would look like if it were designed on Geocities by a 13-year-old in 1996.