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:



-PW

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.

-PW

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.
*pause*
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:



-PW

Pardon the vulgar metaphor...

But life is kind of shitting all over me right now.

But since I'm the idiot who positioned himself directly beneath life's ass, I have no one to blame but myself for the steaming pile in which I am currently lying.

Not going to go into too much detail, but basically I'm a dumbass who constantly repeats the same dumbass mistakes. I still have my hopeful outlook that things will eventually be better, but right now I have a lot of self-inflicted life-feces to wade through before that can happen.

Don't worry about me, though. I'll deal with it like I always do.

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming...

-PW

P.S. - Since my last post, there actually has been an event in my life relevant to this blog's original theme, but I don't feel like blogging about it right now. I'll tell y'all about it once I've gotten some sleep and had a few beers.

Comfortably Numb

Today, as of two hours ago, is CSI Friend's 21st birthday. To celebrate, we went out bar-hopping here in my central Texas town. To say that I am tipsy would be an understatement, but luckily I know when to stop. I stop when I am still happy. And right now I am happy as a redneck at an NRA rally.

Just so you know: Skittles dissolved in vodka = orgasm in liquid form. Seriously, give it a try.

I'm not really worrying about finding a relationship right now. Tonight will be spent with good old Dextera and Sinistra, that's alright with me. ;D

Have some music:



-PW

Return to tedium

Well, I haven't been blogging lately, but there honestly hasn't been anything relevant to this blog happening in my life. I've just been busy with schoolwork and stuff with my roommates (CSI Friend, Teacher Friend, and KoP).

Here, have a video:



That's been one of my favorites for a couple years now.

Hopefully something interesting (in a good way) will happen soon, so I can actually give y'all something to read.

-PW

Feelings return

Well, I am back safely in my boring central Texas town.

I have spent the last few days seeing people, including CSI Friend, Koopa, Pandora and my family. I have also spoken with Geordie twice on Skype and am missing Germany quite a bit.

And well, there hasn't been anything interesting to post here since I got back, but just now logged onto Facebook and saw something. The Environmentalist had recorded a video and posted it on Facebook, and as soon as I saw it, I was reminded of why I had been crushing on him before I put that part of my life on hold to go to Germany. He was just so cute and sweet and I got all full of butterflies.

I think this really is different from my other crushes. He and I just seem so compatible. He seems like a guy who could really understand me. He's quirky and loves costuming and baking and music and renfaires too. 'Adorkable' is probably the best word to describe him.

I feel silly that I just got back and I'm already back to crushing. I won't be participating in the musical revue group this semester, so I won't have an easy excuse to spend a lot of time around him. I don't know if I should even do anything about it, especially since I only have one year left at the unnamed Baptist university, but he has two more, and I have no intention of staying in my boring central Texas town after graduation.

I just don't know. I'm sure he's not as perfect as he is in my mind, but he really does seem like one of the good guys, and I bet I will always regret it if I don't try something. He really seems like the kind of person I would set up with me if I were someone else. We're both weird, and in a lot of the same ways.

Oh blah. I feel like a little schoolboy whenever I think of him. Just getting these thoughts out there.

And now, a lovely song:



-PW

Catharsis

I haven't updated in a while, but there hasn't really been anything interesting and relevant to say.

I saw Kalender last Thursday. Nothing happened. Not even what had happened before happened. I was allowing for the possibility of things happening, but they didn't. Nothing huge to make it so that nothing happened. He just made a wrong decision and blew his chances for that night. I'm planning to see him again next Tuesday.

I have been involved in some recent drama. No names (or even pseudonyms) will be named and no details will be related to spare those involved, since both parties (this person and I) are at fault.

The drama had me very upset this evening, stirring up some of my old deep-seated insecurities and whatnot. Accordingly, I decided to watch my favorite film, and the best spiritual healing film ever made: Smoke Signals. It always hits just the right spot for me. It is a film that makes me laugh, cry, and be at peace with my life and the world. In other words, it is my 'calm the hell down' film.

I love every moment of this film, but the ending is the best. Watching the ending won't spoil the film, in case you decide to check it out on my recommendation (and I definitely recommend it), so here is one of the most amazing film moments ever:



I highly recommend playing the video through the end. The song that plays over the credits is very powerful.

"Wajeeleh-Yihm" by Ulali

The internets tell me that it is in the Tutelo-Saponi language and translates as follows:

Let him go
I will carry you
Let the water wash the spirit with us
Let it move away on the river
I must let you go
Again, you have come back, good

I truly love this film. I notice new things each time I watch it, and I have seen it more times I can count, considering it's been my favorite film for about ten years now. I come to this film whenever I need healing, and it never fails me.

I honestly cannot recommend this film enough. I realize it may not be for all people, but it is certainly the film for me.

Forgive, but don't forget. Take every conflict as an opportunity to learn, to grow and to become a better person. And most importantly, never stop loving.

-PW

When it's time to change, then it's time to change...

A week and a half later, and things are completely different...again. Bloody hell.

This is another long post. Enjoy.

When we last left the Adventures of Phillip Wilde, Phillip was having a nice, casual, undefined something with an English guy known as Essex. They had done stuff on three separate occasions, and it was seeming that they would continue to do so, and they had last seen each other in a brief meeting at a nearby lake, with several friends in tow.

Well, here's what has happened since then:

That Monday, the head of the German division from my unnamed Baptist university (let's call him Dr. Fromm) came to my unnamed southwester German city to visit Louisa, Russky, one other girl, and me. He took us all out to dinner on Tuesday, and it was reasonably pleasant. We then decided to go get ice cream, which is a very normal occurrence in this city. As we were looking at the flavors, trying to decide what to get, we hear someone shout "[Phillip]!!!" It was Z.Q., and he was very drunk. With him were Essex and Kendra, and they all came up to us. I said to him, "Oh hi, [Z.Q.], this is [Dr. Fromm], our professor from [unnamed Baptist university]. We were just going to get some ice cream. He then proceeded to speak to our professor in bad, drunken German, using the informal second person, which is actually a bit insulting to use with a professor. Dr. Fromm was very polite and talked back to him. Meanwhile, I go to Essex and whisper in his ear "Please shut him up!" He responded that that would be impossible, which is probably true. I was completely mortified. Of all the people that we could have run into while out with Dr. Fromm, it had to be Z.Q., and he had to be drunk, and there's no telling what he could have told Dr. Fromm about my personal life if Essex and Kendra hadn't been able to drag him away. I spent the rest of the night annoyed.

I received a package from home on Wednesday, including a jar of jalapeño peppers and a large package of tortillas, so being excited, I invited a smallish group of friends, including Essex, over for tacos at my place. He couldn't come because he had too much homework, which is understandable, and he invited me to go to a Biergarten Thursday night with a bunch of people.

When I arrived at the Biergarten, about half the people I know were there, and nobody I particularly disliked, so that was a plus. Essex wasn't being very talkative, but who can get a word in edgewise when Z.Q. is there anyway? Well, Z.Q. left a bit early, and about 15 minutes later, Essex seemed ready to go too. He actually seemed a bit surprised that I didn't want to leave then too, but I still had half a beer and was having a good time hanging out with people. Whatever. So that was Thursday.

Then this past Saturday was my 21st birthday. I had invited pretty much everyone I know in this town to the festivities, not that I expected that many people to come. I just wanted to make it clear that everyone was welcome. It was just a very simple plan: a potluck picnic in the park that afternoon, and a pub crawl in the city that night. A lot of people couldn't make it because that day was also the beginning of a week off from class, so a lot of people were leaving on trips, which is perfectly fine. But Essex was one of the few people who responded to the Facebook invite as a definite yes. When it came picnic time, no one showed up but Louisa and Gotherella. I called Essex, but he said that he had gone to Colmar for the day with Z.Q. and Z.Q.'s mom, who had come to visit, but that he would be back to go out on the town that night. Well, I had a good time at the picnic with Louisa and Gotherella, so there was no harm there, and Gotherella gave me an awesome drawing, so I was in a relatively good mood, despite the small numbers.

Then when it came time to go out, everyone seemed to be unavailable except for Geordie and her friend who had come to visit. Louisa isn't really a pub crawl kind of girl, and Gotherella's parents were visiting, so I had no problem with them not coming. Then I texted Essex to let him know we were going into town, and he replied that Z.Q.'s mother had invited him to dinner, so he wouldn't be able to make it. I rolled my eyes, as dinner so would not take up the whole night, and I was annoyed that the guy I was sort of kind of seeing was blowing me off on my birthday. Whatever.

But then, after having a couple drinks in the city with Geordie and her friend, we decided to take the last tram home. I was thinking we could maybe go to the bar/dance club in our dorm complex, but as we were waiting for it, who did we see but Z.Q., Essex, and Kendra, drunk and coming to catch the same tram. Z.Q.'s mother was nowhere in sight. There's no way they could have gotten that drunk in the time in the time they would have had after having dinner. They had to have been out drinking at least since the time when Essex sent me that text. Essex barely said a word to me, and got off the tram to go home to his place, two stops before where I get off.

I haven't seen or had any contact with him since. I hate it when people lie to me. Geordie and I have come to the conclusion that Essex has gone back to being in an unhealthy obsessive whatever with Z.Q., like they had had several months ago. That wouldn't have bothered me so much if he hadn't lied to me about it. At least Buachaill was upfront with me about giving Czech boy another chance, and because of his honesty and since Geordie told me that Czech boy really is a great guy, I am no longer upset with Buachaill. I'm happy he's found someone. But rejection is so much easier to deal with when someone is upfront and honest about it, not when they lie and make excuses and ignore you. That's what Lip Ring did, and we all know how well that has worked out for him and what that has done for my self-esteem.

So I have decided that Essex is out of the picture. If he doesn't respect me enough to be honest with me, then he's not worth the time of day. So I spent Sunday, Monday, and most of Tuesday being angry at men in general. Then I logged on to the dating site and got a message from Kalender, asking if I wanted to do something again some time in the near future. I asked what he had in mind and told him about how busy I have been lately, going on day trips and trying to get the most of this week off. He said that if I wanted to relax, I could come hang out with him some time on his couch and watch a movie. Of course, I know what he means by that; that's how I ended up staying the night with Lip Ring. But I wasn't going to let him get off that easily, so I suggested we have dinner first and see what happens from there. He said he could cook something or we could get some pizza to go from the Italian place he lives over. That sneaking devil. Whenever we actually do get together again, I will make sure we actually eat in a restaurant. He's got to prove himself before he gets at any of what he's trying to get at.

So long story short: Essex lies and gets the boot, Kalender may be back in the picture, and I am not upset with Buachaill, so stop trying to comfort me about it.

Now have some cute music:



-PW

Offenheit

So I've been meaning to blog about this for a week now, but I've finally come out to some people here in Germany.

Strangely enough, it was to people I had only known for a week.

Geordie - a girl from northern England
Woods - a girl from Singapore
Umlaut - a girl from Massachusetts

I'm also starting to reveal a little bit more about myself. I was with some friends (including the three I just mentioned) playing "I've Never", and I drank when another guy said that he had never done anything sexual with a guy. Of course, that doesn't necessarily prove to them I'm gay, but it leaves the possibility open. Funnily enough, the other guy drank too, but I'm pretty sure he's just a straight guy who has dabbled. Oh, and Lucia was there too. Maybe eventually she'll get the message.

I've also come up with a new rule for myself: NO CRUSHING ON STRAIGHT GUYS. It can never end well. It really hasn't been much of a problem since late-ish in high school, but this whole business with the Finn sort of mixed me up a bit. In my defense, I really could not determine his sexual orientation. For a while, I thought a friend of his who came to visit might be his boyfriend. Then it would have violated my preexisting rule of no crushing on guys in relationships.*

Other than that, I don't think there's really anything important to say, except that my regular semester here in Germany begins today. Wish me luck.

-PW

*See The Rules of Dating or any post that mentions Lip Ring.

Eh, oh well.

So it seems the Finn is indeed straight. No, I didn't make a move and get rejected. Rather, his girlfriend came to visit. Oh well. I was pretty much over the crush by then anyway. I mean, I still think he's cute, but I had stopped pining.

So I find myself back where I was before, between infatuations. And again, I'm okay with that. I'm keeping my eyes, ears and mind open in case someone should come along, but I'm just going to be happy being single now. It is a lot easier to do that here, since I'm not surrounded by couples all the time. Most of my friends here are either single or they have SOs somewhere else who may come to visit every now and then.

Speaking of my friends in Texas, I guess I'll give an update on their status:

CSI Friend is still living with KoP and seem to be doing fine.
Teacher Friend and Aladdin broke up several months ago and she is now very happy with Superdude.
Blonde Friend and Army Guy are in Germany, where he's stationed. I'm trying to set up a time for them to come visit.
Koopa and CompSci Guy are still together and seem happy, although she is about to graduate and go elsewhere for law school, so they're having to deal with that.

And the situation with Lucia still hasn't changed, and Louisa said that she has noticed it too, so it's not just a narcissistic delusion or anything.

That's about it.

And if you haven't already, may I suggest you go check out my friend over at Blazing Life, who blogs about often taboo marijuana-related issues. I don't smoke myself, but she really gives a lot of insight on the subject, and I enjoy reading what she has to say.

-PW

Boys are stupid

So I'm still totally crushing on the Finn, but I realized last night that he can be just as stubborn and immature as any other male twentysomething.

There is a bar on campus here in my unnamed German university, and Wednesday night is party night. Everyone was out last night, like usual, and everyone was getting pretty tipsy and having fun, when the Finn and this other guy, the Chihuahua, were playfully shoving each other. A security guy then came over and told them to stop or he would throw them out. They laughed in his face, more so the Chihuahua than the Finn. The security guy then grabbed the Chihuahua and pulled him all the way outside, and the Finn followed after.

They apparently did not take the guy seriously and were sort of disrespectful. It's true that the security guy was a jerk, but if they had just reacted calmly and cooperated, it probably would have been just fine and they would have been let back in. A German girl we know tried to explain to them that the security guys have to be strict because they have a problem with people getting beaten up at this bar.

The Chihuahua refused to go home without his sweatshirt, but he couldn't remember where it was and none of us could find it, so he was just standing outside in the cold wearing only a t-shirt, and the Finn kept egging him on, saying that the bar was full of Nazis.

After they had been out there for about an hour and a half, the German girl and I finally convinced the Chihuahua to go home so he wouldn't freeze and that he could come back tomorrow and try to find his sweatshirt. I think by the end he finally realized that it wasn't worth freezing over, but as they left the Finn still refused to admit that they had done anything wrong. He needs to realize that security guys are very often assholes, and that everything is usually a lot easier if you just cooperate.

*sigh* Why are boys so stubborn?

In other news, I'm making lots of new friends from all over the world. It still haven't come out to anyone here, but that's mainly just because it's sort of an awkward thing to randomly bring up, not because I'm afraid of how people will react like I am in Texas.

My new friends include:
Lumberjill - a Danish girl who studies forestry and conservation, and as part of her studies has worked as a lumberjack
Gotherella - a gothic Italian girl who studies philosophy
Laetitia - an Italian girl, who is really more international, because she doesn't want to go back to Italy, is married to an American, and will be staying in Germany for a while, even though she won't be studying here
Fun Hair - another Italian girl, small, but with big, curly hair that fits her personality perfectly
Jung - a Korean girl, who is much more liberated than the other Koreans here and who doesn't want to go back to Korea
The Australian - an Australian guy, who is always the life of the party
Die Königin der Finnen - a Finnish girl, studying law, who always makes us laugh with her 'queen wave'
Russky - the other guy here from my unnamed Baptist university
and, of course, the Finn.

Those are just the ones with whom I hang out on a regular basis. There are several other awesome people I hang out with every now and then. I've only met two people I really don't like since I came here, and they are both Americans.

Blonde Friend should be coming to Germany about a week from now, since she finally has trudged her way through the bureaucracy of the US Army so that she could come live her with her husband, Army Guy, who is stationed near Nürnberg. That should be interesting. It's always strange when your friends from one place meet your friends from another place.

So, to sum up: boys are stupid, but the Finn is still adorable; there are awesome people everywhere; and Germany rocks.

Bis später!

-PW

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...

Hmm, so it seems there was a misunderstanding, a failure to communicate within the revue group. Koopa and Nike both ended up being in one of the special vocal groups, and the other one still hasn't been set, so I still have a chance. So it turns out perhaps Flippy Hair wasn't being a passive-aggressive bitch after all. He just wasn't doing his job and letting us know what the hell was going on.

Whatever. I haven't actually been mad about it for a while now. I'll still try for the other vocal group, but if I don't get it, I'll be fine, since I have already come to accept it over the past week and a half.

I may have mentioned this before, but I am currently in a rather unfamiliar state, i.e. I'm not really crushing on anyone now. I've decided this is just fine, especially since 3.5 weeks from now, I will be going to another continent for five months.

Yep, I'm going to study in Germany for a semester. The German semester is just a bit offset, running from March through July.

I have this stupid fantasy in the back of my mind that my time in Germany will be like Xavier's experience in the film L'Auberge espagnole, minus the whole sleeping with a married woman thing, for two very obvious reasons. I dream of having a great time with lots of crazy friends.

To answer the questions people always ask:

No, I am not going with a group. This is a direct exchange program. There are two other people from my unnamed Baptist university who will be going with me, let's call them Russky and Louisa. There is also one girl who has already been there for one semester and will be staying for this semester as well.

Yes, I will be taking a full course load, and yes, my classes will all be taught in German.

No, I am not extremely fluent in German, but I hopefully will be by the time I'm done.

Yes, I will be living in a dorm, only there it's called a Studentenwohnheim.

I will be at a prestigious 552-year-old university in a beautiful mid-sized city in southwestern Germany, less than an hour by train from both France and Switzerland.

Yes, I will be traveling within Europe as much as my schedule and budget will allow.

The other day, it really hit me how soon I would be leaving and I started feeling really sentimental. Koopa and I had a bittersweet conversation about how I will be leaving right after the revue competition is over and when I get back, she will be gone - graduated and gone away to law school. She and I have gotten so close over the past year.

I finally saw Teacher Friend, CSI Friend, Blonde Friend, and KoP this evening for the first time since Blonde Friend's birthday three weeks ago. We had dinner. It was kind of weird. I'm going to be living with them come August, but it seems that as time goes by, we have less and less in common.

I will also be missing the birth of my first nephew, who is due just three weeks after I arrive in Germany. I worry that my little niece won't remember me when I come back. I worry that my octogenarian grandparents will fall ill while I'm gone. I worry that I won't be good enough to succeed.

But I must remain optimistic. They say that if you believe you can do something, you can, right? Like the Little Engine That Could. I just have to believe in myself. I need to work on that.

And now, I leave you with a song that has been stuck in my head all damn day.



Enjoy.

-PW

An Epiphany and New Possibilities

So last night, as I was coming home from rehearsal, I started thinking about what Flippy Hair did (or rather didn't do) with all the people who auditioned for vocal parts and didn't get them.

And then it hit me - it's exactly what he did to me last Spring. We put ourselves out there with the audition, and then he just never responded. That is exactly what he did last year when I told him I liked him.

That boy needs to realize that a flat-out rejection is better than no response at all, because then at least you're being honest. It's just rude.

It doesn't bother me as much that I didn't get a part. It's that he didn't have the courtesy to tell me so.

On a lighter note, I do seem to have made a new friend or two in the past two rehearsals. I already seem to be closer to the girl - let's call her Kiddo. We started talking when she, the guy - let's call him Durwood - and I were all standing next to each other in a formation.

Durwood pretty much has no filter on what he says, so he started talking about how many gay guys there are in the group. So Kiddo and I joined in, and we determined that there are only 4 straight guys, even though there are definitely more who claim to be. Meanwhile, another girl - let's call her Harmony - just stood by and laughed. Ah, good times. I have concluded that Durwood is like the four-year-old who says what everyone is thinking but no one wants to say out loud.

Okay, so that's it for now.

*lurve*

-PW

Being the *odd number*-th wheel

It seems like all my friends her at my unnamed Baptist university are paired up:

CSI Friend and KoP (living together)
Teacher Friend and Aladdin
Blonde Friend and Army Guy (they got married last week)
Koopa and CompSci Guy

Out of the people at school whom I consider to be my good friends, that basically just leaves Black Rose who is still single.

I mean, I love my friends like nothing else, but it's hard sometimes being the single guy surrounded by couples.

I keep feeling more and more like Robert from Company, happy with my friends, but with no one around to answer my kazoo.



-PW

An introduction.

You can call me Phillip Wilde. I am a young gay man, forced to stay in the closet for a handful of complicated reasons.

The number one reason is that I attend a Baptist university in central Texas which shall not be named in this blog. Said Baptist university has a nasty habit of taking scholarships away from students when they come out of the closet, and I simply cannot afford to have that happen. I would have to drop out of school, and that is simply unthinkable to me.

The second reason is that my parents are not exactly accepting of homosexuality. I know I am certainly not the only gay person who has had to deal with this. In fact, most of us do. But although my parents are not the type of people who would react violently to my coming out, I am still very afraid of how they may react. My mother has some very backward views on homosexuality, including that it is caused in all cases by demonic possession. Yeah, it's messed up. My dad doesn't really voice his opinion on the subject much, but he does somewhat frequently use the word 'faggot,' along with other comparable offensive words in reference to other groups, on which I usually call him.

My other reasons for staying in the closet are pretty much the same as anyone else's. I worry that people will think of me differently. It's really silly that they would, since coming out of the closet doesn't change who I am, just what people know about me, but I know that it happens all the time. I'm afraid of the disapproving looks; I'm afraid of people talking behind my back about something over which I have no control.

Speaking of that, I can't believe that anyone could think that homosexuality is a choice. Why on earth would I choose to be ostracized and discriminated against? It is just the way I am, and people should just accept that.

I hesitate to explore the origins of homosexuality in any way. It makes me think of the subplot in Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West in which the Wizard is trying to discover the origin of the Animals so that he can find a way to eliminate them. I honestly hope that homosexuality is not genetic as some people claim for that very reason - that people will try to snuff it out if we find out what causes it. It would really be a genocide of a different sort.

All that being said, I am not completely closeted. If I were, I would have lost my mind years ago. So here's a breakdown of how much I am in and out of the closet:

People with whom I am completely out and open and with whom I discuss it regularly:
My small group of very close friends here at school
A handful of other close friends from various other places
A guy with whom I had something going a few months ago, hereafter referred to as Lip Ring

People who know I'm gay, but we don't really talk about it:
Most of the secondary and some of the tertiary friends connected to my group of close friends
The youngest of my three older sisters
Various people with whom I did community theatre a few years ago
Various people with whom I went to high school
Another semi-closeted guy at my school on whom I had a major crush last year, hereafter referred to as Flippy Hair

People who know I am gay, but we don't really talk at all:
More various people with whom I went to high school
One guy with whom I had something going a couple years ago, hereafter referred to as Pepper

Places where I make my homosexuality plain:
Gay-friendly nightclubs
Gay-friendly neighborhoods, such as the Castro in San Francisco or Oak Lawn in Dallas

Places where/people with whom I neither broadcast nor make any real effort to hide my homosexuality:
Renaissance festivals - I've been performing at them for a few years now
The musical revue group in which I perform at my school
The general public

People with whom I occasionally discuss homosexuality, but not specifically in reference to me:
My other two sisters, who both would probably have no problem with me coming out - they probably already know anyway
Various cousins and other relatives, whose views vary
My parents, whose views are described above
Various professors and fellow students, whose views vary

Places where/people with whom I never discuss homosexuality:
Almost any religious setting
Almost anyone involved in the administration at my unnamed Baptist university

I suppose that will have to do for now. More posts of varying topics, mostly gay-themed, will follow.

-PW