slow weekend.

I wish I could say I'm stronger than I am, but seeing Steven's profile online really shook me. It was confirmation that he's not coming back, nor waiting for me as I have been for him. I also wish I could say my waiting was by choice, but for the most part, it isn't.

I hooked up with John the monday after Steven left, out of lonliness and a hope that it would lessen the absence. That was the last time I ever saw him.

Since then, I've had several offers for sex...mostly from 'open relationshipers' or random chats online. Other than Cedric or Dan, no one really holds my attention. They're both far away and involved - double negatives against finding a solution to the equation that is my hoped for romance. Still though, I can lose myself for a few moments when I talk to them. They make me forget just how alone I am.

Wow...I'm turning down sex with hot guys. What the hell is wrong with me?

When I close my eyes and curl up for sleep, it's Steven wishing was there.

How I wish someone would come into my life and save me.

enter stage left

I'm asking myself questions and not getting answers. For once, eloquent prose doesn't satisfy my longing to express this turmoil. I feel as if I'm a serene pond, mirror-like surface reflecting a cloudless sky, surface unmarred by ripple or effect....then something swims just beneath.

I've gotten used to living alone, and now that I have an offer of cohabitation, my heart has chosen to remain alone. I chuckle as I write those words because I've chosen to be alone in other ways as well.

I feel as if I've spun some epic cocoon and sequestered myself away from that which can affect me. Neither rain nor sun seems to penetrate this shell. Increasingly I find myself performing for those around me: my coworkers, my friends, even my family sees me as this spiteful jester, an endless fountain of wit and biting remarks.

Still, I've let a few see past my masques. My mutton chopped muse from Arizona asked to be let in while I opened myself freely to this elusive dark faerie. Oh but if I could get either of them out of my thoughts. While Diego is dark, shadow and reclusive....drawing me into him, Cedric is honest and upfront; a manifestation of secret dreams. My chances with either are limited.

We've never met, nor do I know the resonance of his voice, but when I see the digital flicker of his expressions, I sink into his eyes....eyes like black swirling pools of shadow. He smiles and ... I gasp for air as if drowning. He disappears and I'm left with his absence. And he has the complacency to say I'm dangerous.

Opposite of the shadow, my Cedric. His voice washes over me; cascading down my face like spring rain. He excites me and fills with me the semblance of youth. I'm moved to sprout poetry, to write epic stories of valor and to paint such vivid scenes of beauty that I am both humbled by his presence, and reminded that this world still offers the a guiding star at sunset.

I'm as twilight; torn between the mal shadow and promise of dawn. I'm eternally on stage and only these in the front row can see through the facade.

My emergence, does it come soon?
I