It’s been said that we attract what we desire, but not what we desire in the mind, but what we suppress in our hearts. Those feelings we allow to fester and grow, but we try to forget about or brush off. We think it’s all about simply stating we want a significant other and poof we meet the love of our lives. But it’s more convoluted than that isn’t it? There are layers in this simplistic formula. Because, you may mentally ascribe your desire as something you need from another, but perhaps you need love and there are many forms which love is supplied and there are even more ways in which it is denied.
Life seems pretty straight forward, you live then you die, but there are so many possible choices, outcomes and ways to approach that it can be damn complicated and scary. The fear of consequences inhibit an action to be taken, hesitation occurs and before we know it we’re living life in a body as a person we don’t recognize.
For the last few years of my life I have been in a constant state of flux. My whole life I’ve I wanted to live in Los Angeles, California. Until my mother suggested I move to New York City… I agreed under the guise of my parents saying they would pay my rent as long as I didn’t go to California. Once, moving to NYC I had a sense of something that I had never had my whole life. I had freedom. No parents to answer to, no siblings to be responsible for, no school to steal my time, no basketball to spend my energy on, suddenly my life had become different than the last 25 years of my life. I had the opportunity to create a whole new life for myself. Partying became life. I went from drinking on the weekends to convincing myself weekdays were weekends. I worked for the New York Knicks which entailed conducting Knick giveaways and engaging the fans socially which is right in my wheelhouse. Moving to NYC was like falling in love with someone you never knew you would love so strongly and deeply. How appropriate…
Yet still in the back of my head was a strong desire to live in California. Yet, I stayed in NYC.
One evening I was invited to a networking event in the East Village by an acquaintance of mine, but I declined. I lived on the west side and didn’t want to make the excursion to get across town especially if there was no drinking involved. Moments after declining her invite, another acquaintance of mine, no relation to the first one, invited me to the same networking event. This time I accepted. Upon my arrival I sought out the friend who invited me the second time, but he was unable to attend,so I found the friend who invited me initially. She was someone I met volunteering for a company that held media panels. She was there with a friend she’d met interning for a TV station. When I met her friend she & I immediately bonded and we bonded hard. We exchanged numbers as the event concluded having only networked with each other. When I got home I told my roommate I met a really awesome girl, we will refer to her as Wendy from here on. Ever since that night she and I were inseparable. Wendy and I had an inexplicable connection that went beyond what seemed like space & time. It was like we were magnetized to each other.
I specifically recall a night while living in NYC when I signed the lease and gotten keys to my apartment on 58th st & 8th Ave. I invited Wendy over for a celebratory night of fun. It began with us sitting on my unfurnished apartment floor drinking French whisky called Tullamore Dew. We were having a great time, doing cartwheels and dancing all around laughing and drinking. Out of pure exhaustion I sat in the corner and moments later she joined me. This moment I will never forget. Wendy was so agonizingly close it took all of my strength to hold back from wrapping my arms around her and kissing her. I don’t know why I felt that urge so powerfully, or where it came from, but I did. The room was electric. There we sat in the corner in an apartment that had no furniture, but was packed full of tension. We sat staring at each other, but afraid to take action. Why? Fear, most likely. Fear to take action, fear of how she may react, fear of what it means to be falling for a girl, fear of liking it, fear of hating it, fear of losing her. Alas, neither of us made a move and that would proceed to become to relationship we cultivated.
Days went by, moments came to pass, finding ourselves in the same tension situations and not taking it any further. She had a boyfriend after all and I had a serious relationship with denial of my feelings. Months later she broke the news that she was promoted, but had to relocate. Two weeks later she left NYC to take up residency in Los Angeles, CA.
Two years passed and my lease in my apartment was up and it was decision time… stay in NYC or go to LA. A heavy choice to make, as I said I fell in love with that city and would have stayed forever, but there was something else I had to do and that was get to LA. I broke the news to my friends and family none of them were happy about it, but happy for me. I told Wendy and she suggested we live with each other, of course I agreed. She was as excited as I was. She even tracked me as I drove across the country and would talk to me on the phone so I wouldn’t go to sleep. It was like we never were apart. We picked right where we left off. Then everything changed the day after Christmas 2013. She came home after visiting her family a few days. I stayed at the house while she was gone. Just me and a bottle of Jack. When she arrived the next day, we decided to go to Las Vegas. We went to a few bars and at each bar we could be found making out on the couch or canoodling in the corner. It was like we didn’t have to worry about being caught by roommates, free from judgement, free from needing to know what anything meant, free from fear. All the years of pent up emotions and sexual energy caught up to us quick. I asked her if she wanted to go back to the car. I don’t know why we didn’t just get a room. I feel as though it had something to do with not having enough money. She didn’t hesitate to say yes. I don’t remember the walk back to the parking garage to get in the car, we were both very inebriated. Once we were in the car, she sat in the backseat, I sat in the driver’s seat and said “You know what happens if I come back there?” I saw her nod in the rearview mirror. It was quiet, neither of us were talking. Words weren’t really what we wanted to exchange. I climbed to the backseat, it was very clear what was going to happen next.
Being with someone who made me feel the way Wendy did was something I’d always wanted, dreamed of, craved, imagined. Finally, fulfilling the unrelenting sexual chemistry we built on and I tried to ignore to no avail over all the years. There was a lot swirling around in my head, mostly because of the booze, partially because of the nervousness. This was my first time doing anything like this and I was FINALLY going to make the move, finally going to do what I wanted to do that night in the unfurnished apartment, cross the line.
The only thing swimming through my alcohol laden mind was how I didn’t care what the fallout was, it didn’t matter. I was tired of being frustrated with not taking action when I had the chance. The consequences of another missed opportunity became the motivation to go for it.
I can only guess since my heart was beating so fast, the alcohol was making it’s way to my brain quicker and stronger because, I don’t remember how I ended up on my back with her preparing to go down on me.
I don’t know how to really explain the feeling that was coursing so fervently through my veins. Bursting excitement, comes to mind. It was like when you’re so hungry and you have a very specific craving and you’ve been waiting an incredibly long time for that one specific item and you finally take a bite and it’s everything you could’ve asked for.
By the way the fact that I’m comparing this experience to eating is not lost on me.
An hour or so later I awoke on the floor of the car in the backseat, she was on the seat, both of us only half dressed. We were sitting opposite of each other. I put my clothes back on and covered her with my jacket and just stared at her for a few moments. It was a surreal sensation absorbing all that had just happened. 4 years leading up to one decision to go for it. I remember smirking as I jumped in the front seat of my car and all the way back home to Los Angeles.
That was the beginning of one of the greatest most amazing relationships of my life because for the first time in nine years I actually felt what it was like to be in a relationship with someone I loved. When I was with her, it was always like my breath was caught in my throat and I couldn’t do anything, but smile. It’s funny because neither she or I can explain our attraction to each other nor does she identify with being a lesbian. Personally, I don’t consider myself straight, lesbian or bisexual. I don’t see things so clear cut. I’ve not found myself attracted to other women before or since her, I’m not saying I won’t ever, but I also haven’t really found myself attracted to anyone like I was to her, for me it’s more about the person and their soul I connect with. Many people found Wendy to be caustic and vitriolic, but over the years I’d seen her heart and I know buried deep down beneath whatever scars and experiences was a loving and extremely passionate person.
Unfortunately, our relationship didn’t work out and I lost a great friend and lover. There were many aspects that were foretelling, but the biggest reason I ended it was because I didn’t like how she would treat me at times, she made me feel insignificant, yelling at me for no reason, discounting and brushing off my emotions with no explanation (I’m a Cancer, so these things are imperative when it comes to being in a relationship). I also didn’t feel respected in the relationship nor did I like who I was becoming. As I look back I realized it also had to do a lot with fear of how to progress, fear of acknowledging and understanding that I wasn’t ready to embark on this experience. I had a lot of growing up to do and so did she. It was and is still is one of the absolute most painful things I’ve ever done, to breakup with someone while you’re still in love with them and simultaneously end a very dear friendship, but I knew if I wanted to become a better person or be able to reach my full potential then I had to choose and I chose me. I decided I needed to stop focusing on the external world so much to fix my problems for me and really truly focus in on the internal struggles and strife I was facing and learn to fix my own problems. I began asking myself questions like what is my worth? What do I want? Who am I? What do I have to offer? What is my goal in this life? What do I want to obtain? What don’t I like about myself? What do I love about myself? And not what others have told me, but what I really truly felt about myself. Breaking down every little aspect about all that is me. Especially the aspects of myself that terrified me. Am I gay? Am I hopeless? Do I really know what I want? How will I pay rent this month? I really broke myself down bit by bit all while having periodic emotional break downs nightly because of the heart wrenching pain I felt from leaving my girlfriend. I was destroyed by the breakup even though I facilitated it. Time and time again I wanted to run back in her arms and just be with her, but I knew that wasn’t how I was going to progress forward nor gain respect for myself.
I think of it like a glow stick. You won’t see the light if you don’t break the inside.
I allowed myself time to mourn, lots of Boys 2 Men, Sam Smith and Tove Lo. It seemed like the universe knew I was hurting because these artists would randomly be on the radio whenever I turned it on. I made sure to give myself the opportunity to talk it out, I reached out to her, I reached in toward me, I began educating myself on how to move on by reading articles about self-recovery and mending a broken heart, learning about what I may have done wrong, so as not to place all the blame on her for things not going well, understanding how to forgive myself and accepting that I too had made mistakes. There wasn’t a moment that went by where I wasn’t thinking about her, thinking about the relationship, questioning and reviewing it over and over in my mind. I must have cried every night for a month and I’m not a crier. I dislocated my ankle, ruptured a ligament, tore my Achilles, and on my own popped the bone back in to the socket and didn’t cry. I even began writing a day-to-day account of the break up experience that way I didn’t have to keep everything inside. It helped tremendously. I still have it and now when I look back on it, it’s a very whiny “woe is me” account of my life then, but that’s what I was feeling and I don’t apologize for that.
It took a lot of strength, and belief to push through the pain. There were times I questioned if I would ever get through the agony of no longer being able to see her or share a joke with her and a beer. It still hurts to this day, but I wouldn’t take it back for anything. For out of it was born a new me, a better me, a mentally stronger me.
How did I do this? What did I learn? That will be explained from A-Z, well now technically B-Z because I have just given you the A, the foundation. The beginning of my new beginnings.
The date is currently May 9th, 2017. That would make it 7 years since the night in the East Village and approximately 2 or so years since I struck key to this personal account. I am unbelievably different than I was before. I’ve since ached, starved, griped, grown, gained, lost, and ultimately learned so much about what it means to be and not to be. It was last night that I was distance enough from the pain to see the very reason I was thrust into a downward spiral rise to the ground and that reason is…. CLICK TO FIND THE REASON