gayNwyo

"He always likes to draw the Tinman from The Wizard of Oz. It's obviously his favorite character." He would say. My handsome art teacher understood my tender and artistic side, and he encouraged it. I remember feeling somehow attracted to, and inspired by him. I was eleven years old, and had this curious fascination with the man. He was passionate about instilling in me a love for creating something. He was inquisitive and always offered productive criticism in a gentle way. He brought out a beating heart of love for the arts inside me. He taught me to love and appreciate the arts in my life, and the simple beauties one could create with just a mind and a will. I love you, wherever you are, you beautifully artistic man.

"Just so you know, I turn into a pumpkin at ten o'clock. So it's understood, right?!? Ten o'clock is absolute bedtime!!" Randy would say to Ryan. Ryan understood. He didn't know why, but that's just the way it was for awhile. Truth was, Randy was addicted to sleeping pills. He'd be awake all night without them, and his vertigo would return with a vengeance like an ignored girlfriend. Randy needed help, all the time, in every way. For days and weeks and months and years now. He had received it, reluctantly and angrily. He knew he needed help. Admitting it to himself was another matter altogether. He was delusional and out of touch. He was vain, proud and had the ego of a wanna be god. Elusive and enigmatic, illustrious and infamous, for no good reasons. Neither real nor imagined. Neither good nor bad. Neither here nor there, by air or by land or by sea. He was in the wind, the air, the ground. Never tethered to reality. He was everywhere, all the time. ...

"So you'd really give up all this, all of this?!?!" Katherine swung her arms around, infuriated. "You'd let all this go for a fucking pair of Ruby Slippers and man sex for a week...!?!?" At this point, Randy needed to drown out what Katherine was screaming at him, top notch vocal cords that she had. He thought of a place. New Orleans, in the fall, when it was raining. In the hotel room, a sparkling pair of slippers on the side table. The smell of coffee, and daylight peeking through the curtains. The smell of musky man loving hung in the air. They were still naked and hungry for more of one another.

"Can you try to explain it to me, I'm so curious..." He really wanted to know. "That salty sweet and sour smell of freshly fallen leaves in the fall, when the chill of the season starts to creep in. Mix that with the sweet taste of a candied apple. That's the best way I can describe the taste of male ejaculate. Sometimes sweet, sometimes salty, sometimes bitter. One of the best flavors I have ever in my life tasted."

"I wish I could be what you want and need for me to be." He started. "I don't know how to be that person for you, even though I want to. I want to love you the same way that you love me. I desperately want to, I just don't have the emotional tools to do that right now. I did at one time, I just don't anymore."  "I totally understand." She returned. "You aren't the same person anymore. You can't love like you used to. You've been broken. Sometimes there's no coming back from a breakdown. You had a breakdown. You don't love yourself anymore, so maybe you should start there. Start by loving yourself, so you can love other people that are waiting for your love." 

There is a photo. A photo of me and my great grandfather. In a pickup truck. I must've been two, going on three. He was holding me, I looked obviously distressed, as if I had been crying and was trying to escape. Oddly, as young as I was, I remember distinctly how the inside of the truck smelled. Of road dirt and musky man smells. Dirty. I remember how the seat cover felt, and more so how my little guts felt in those moments I was alone in the pickup with that man. I feel ill when I look at that photo. It makes me physically sick to my stomach. Something bad happened in that truck, that day, when I was with my great grandfather. My guts tell me that to this day.

We genuinely enjoyed each other's company. We had become good friends. Friends who kept secrets and made pacts. Friends who gave each other free drugs and never asked for anything in return. There was a connection, an understanding, and a peace with each other that was natural and free. That was how it was, between Keller and me.  Things changed later. When he and I, and one other friend, did cocaine together one night. In his grandmother's large ranch style home. We got high, higher than high. It felt incredibly good, until it didn't. I passed out after a few hours, whereas the other two boys were still up in the clouds. They suspected that I had overdosed and were yelling at me to stay awake, up in my face, talking me though whatever I was going through. Later they said it looked as though I might die. I didn't remember the long night, or the early morning. I didn't die, although I thought I had at one point. "You both have to promise me, and we'll make a...

He was everything. All the time. All I needed, all I craved, all I desired. He did everything for me. I did everything for him. And still our everything was nothing.

They were spending the sweet summer of their golden youth in the forest village resort of Yellowstone, Pahaska Teepee, just miles from the gate to the magnificent state park. He was a tender seventeen, and she a gentle 18. This was the summer of sins and sex. Everyday sex, passionate and sweaty, sweet and intense, wild and highly pleasurable. Sometimes twice, three, sometimes four times a day. Marathon style, whenever they had moments alone. The nights were endless and miraculous.  He was learning her body, what she wanted, how she responded, how she sounded, how she felt. He wanted nothing more than to please her. And pleasing her meant pleasing himself. He wasn't satisfied until she was. He wouldn't release until she had been pleasured enough.  After an evening of build ups and climaxes, they laid, basking in the afterglow of lust and love. "You know, I was thinking...." She thought, as she admired his beautiful penis, still wet with fresh semen. "We should giv...

His silver eyes sucked me in, they were slyly seductive and sexy as hell. They were piercing and perceptive, purely present and persistent about gazing into mine. I fell deep in love, peering into his eyes, intensely so deep that they burned into my very soul. Those silver eyes were mine for awhile. I only had eyes for those silver eyes, and they only had eyes for mine.

Class act hippie, skinny, sharp cut features, close young friend of mine. I'd hoped for more with him. Our friendship was more than just exchanges of lines, stories and drugs. Although it was all of those things, and more. We had a deep, brotherly love for each other. I knew not to press boundaries with boy friends that were clearly set from the beginning. It wouldn't have been an uncommon rumor to perhaps hear that he and I were secretly gay. After all, we'd played out those roles several times for audiences already. But there weren't any developments beyond that, even if I'd wanted more. Despite seeing his massive monster cock emerge from a moonlit river and dangled over a fire, for my eyes alone. God, he was beautifully sexy! Keller was an ancient soul, whom seemed to know all about everything, and he'd tell you precisely how he felt about any situation. He knew how I felt, but respected our friendship enough never to tell me that he knew.

I must've been four, or maybe five years old. I was running around naked, young and free. No shame in being naked, natural. I found a pair of my sisters panties. I slipped into them. I remember how soft and smooth they were, and remember how natural and comfortable they felt on my butt. I then found a flyswatter and pretended to be a witch, running around the house, imagining I was flying, imaginative and free... Then my father caught me. He grabbed the flyswatter and slapped my little bum with it, hard enough to sting. "Those are your sisters panties, go take them off right now!!" He was upset. I remember feeling a burning feeling inside, one that I would later identify as shame.

"He's gone off the deep end. He's off his rocker, a collie off his trolley. He's fucking psycho nuts!"  He overheard them talking about him as he hid in the bathroom stall, afraid to move, should they discover him there. "He's also a fag! Total queer homo fudge packer!!" They all erupted with wicked laughter, and then quickly left the bathroom. He spent the next hour crying horribly hard there on the toilet, stopping only to sob softly as boys came and left.

This is my thought And it's only of you With me Together Forever and true I have but one heart To be given one time And to you it will be At it's best At it's prime Every moment of you Everything in my mind I shall carry forever And treat them so kind My heart is now yours So take it with care For it's fragile and small But it's willing to share Rita Rosalita 

Ryan sat in the therapist office for another visit. During the last session he had confessed to his homosexual desires, the guilt associated with that, and how he had been plagued with horrific waking nightmares. The kind that had him jerking himself out of bed before he even knew he was awake, only recalling bits and pieces from the dreaded dream world. "It seems to me, these nightmares are probably the result of the guilt and shame that you feel about your sexuality." The therapist wasn't wrong in his analysis. "You're probably right." Ryan agreed. "Would you like to try a simple technique that may help you remember and possibly control the dreams and nightmares that are obviously torturing you??" "Of course, I'll try anything..." Ryan was desperate. "Before you fall asleep at night, when you're in that place just before you drift off, say out loud to yourself, 'I will remember my dreams.'" Ryan tried this tech...

I heard his voice, yelling my name... "Ryan!!!"  I was in an empty room, in an empty house, all alone. He was out there somewhere, far away, yelling my name out loud.

Ryan, my sweet 'Sun', I know we talked about it before, but you need to know you are a good person and you are not going to hell. Always remember, you are a good person and you work to change your life for the better. You have accepted Christ as your Savior and he has saved you. God is to be feared, but life is not meant to be lived in fear. God is all loving and forgiving. Just ask for his forgiveness. God is the only one who is to judge and decide where your soul goes, not some people in a building playing pretend. The bible is a guideline, not to be taken every word as a way to be and truth. So long as you don't feel evil or possessed by demons, you are not. Live your life to the fullest. It is yours to live how you want. That is why God gave us free will. Call me & Eric later. Find Amy, let's do something fun today and be happy, as good friends together.

Hello Handsome Man! I'm just sitting here at the courthouse in Lander. I am pretty bored. I already called you, but you don't like talking on the phone, and it was rather limited conversation with the whole button pushing thing.

You can wake me up if you want to... be as creative as you like! *wink* *wink*  :) Love, Me

My first boy crush. Handsome, slightly rugged, stylish and sexy. The kind of sexiness I could feel vibrating off his face and body. I wanted to be him, in so many ways. In appearance he was a dream, with the face of an angel god. Slightly short and built like a young man should be, without any of that glistening six pack crap.  We connected on stage mostly, where chemistry played itself out without any hesitation. I couldn't be near him for long without having to sit down or go and hide, to obscure my obvious erections for the boy. He knew I wanted to know him. I knew he knew. If only I had pursued that fantasy boy.

Another bouncy and energetic cherub to dance into my life a little too late.  She was the life of the scene, regardless of where she walked in. She was friends with everyone and remembered by all. She was never without her eyeliner and mascara, dressed for every occasion, and a pure delight to be around. She shone from within, with grace and personality. She would talk to me about anything, and we talked about everything. She knew too, too much about me, never judging my darker confessions. We loved each other as friends, and would never want more from each other than our own simply entertaining company.

I remember hiding behind the couch in the office of my grandparents motel. I was frozen with fear, listening, to weeping and wailing and persons being thrown about in the next room. "You get your hands off her!!" My aunt screamed, clearly at her father John, in defense of her mother Jane. The rest of the memory bleeds away. I think I must have blocked it out, for I can't remember what happened the rest of the day. Would my grandfather physically attack my grandmother?? I was in shock as I lay in bed that night, trying to sleep, trying to recall and absorb what I had heard, what I had not seen...

"Accept yourself as you are, not as those around you tell you you are. Not as they tell you to be. Be as you are, come out as you are. You're a beautiful and broken man, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that."

"It is only when you do not know yourself that you fear you are evil, afraid to look within yourself. But when you open up those doors, you are amazed by the immensity and grace of your own being." ~ Jane Roberts ~

Dear Steven, You did more for me than any man ever did. You loved me deeper than any man ever has. You gave me more than I ever deserved. I'm sorry things didn't work out like either of us wanted them to. I'm sorry things got so complicated, and so many things were so horribly misunderstood.  I'll always remember how alive and loved you made me feel. Please always keep the positive memories of us alive in your heart. I'll do the same. Despite all that went wrong, I'll always love you. Ryan

Ryan,  I just wanted to make sure you're okay. Feel free to stop by my place anytime. I'm off this weekend.  ❤️ Brian. XOXO

Given with love! from your boring boyfriend... ❤️ BRIAN  XOXO 

Brian thinks Ryan smells... like farts.

Ryan wasn't stable, and in truth, he hadn't been for years. His concerned wife was desperate. "You need to go get help. And the church is willing to pay for you to go see someone." He agreed. Weeks later he sat in this therapists office and spilled his guts all over the room, saying things he felt he couldn't say to anyone else in his world. He confessed to sins and dirty things. Shameful and dark things, things that had eaten at his soul for years. "I'm bisexual. But lately I have no attraction towards women at all. None. This is going to end my marriage, I know it. But that's the truth. That's where I'm at... So I guess I can't say I'm bisexual at all, but clearly gay..." "I understand that, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with you. What is wrong is the way you're feeling about yourself, and how you're actively killing yourself as a result of holding on to all the pain you're feeling." "I'...

Ryan, These flannel sheets are your Birthday gift. I gave them to you now because your place was so cold last night and now you and the kids can stay warm as fresh baked burritos this winter.  XOXO BRIAN

Ok. Can we find some time to make love? I need that from you. You know I'd never deprive you of this sweet D!  Yeah baby, I'll look forward to you deep inside me.  You know... all you usually have to do is take a good shower and wave that tasty ass in my face 😋. I'm always hungry! 😈 I love you Steven.  I love you, too, Ryan! 

"Everything we see we think we know. But maybe our perception of reality is just the consciousness of the illusion."

He would rather masturbate with no mental fantasies connected to the act at all. He would simply focus on how incredibly good it felt. From the young age of fourteen until he was sixteen, it was simply about how great masturbation felt. Purely for pleasure. No images in mind, just he responding to his own body. 

When Ryan was sixteen, he had a very confusing and mixed up school year. Girls clamored for his attention, far too many for his own good. He never had to chase, they were always right there, all with hidden intentions and plans for Ryan.

So, Randy didn't quite fit in. No matter where he would go, he was outcast by most, friended by few, and looked upon by everyone. Judged harshly, critically.  We all judge. This was especially true when it came to being at church. Where everyone pretended to be prefect. Deep down, they were all monsters who were looking for their own salvation, no one else's. Not truly. "Get yourself to heaven first, everyone else comes second..." Roger would often say. To hell with all of them if that is the attitude. Save yourselves...  Love thy neighbor. Do unto others.  Judging comes natural to man. Heaven should forgive the horrendous thoughts such men entertain.

0011 Zero Zero One One Bing Bing Bing

"He was here. Not long ago. He tore through here like a tornado. He looked like he was looking for you..." My dear sweet coworker was looking out for me today...

"We're all just little bits of the universe, expressing themselves for a very little while. Let's make the most of it!"

Could he truly be the last of his kind, the only one with such purity? Not for long. Not in a place like this. Not in a kingdom ridden with nothing but dark and devious hearts. Not in a land of black characters with ulterior motives. The melancholy and forlorn prince, despite all odds, had remained pure in heart, mind and soul. Even his father, the king, was corrupt and evil. As was his mother, the queen.  The prince chose to leave his kingdom, in an earnest expedition to find another who perhaps may possess a heart, mind and soul similar to his. He ventured out alone, unprepared for the deeper darkness that existed beyond the borders of his wretched kingdom. Despite the forces set against this brave young prince, his purity protected him from the evils that presented themselves. Each were defeated, unable to withstand such a bright and burning soul. As each enemy approached the prince with evil intent, all were vanquished and cast back into the darkness, defeated by the unfamiliar...

We sat together on our second date. Our first date went well, so we decided on another. We both loved Asian food, and there were only a few places in town. This one was our favorite. We chatted lightly, sharing stories about our lives and our family, hobbies and such. We seemed to have much in common. We were both chill and relaxed. Conversation came easy for us.  "I've got bipolar family members. Aunts, cousins, in laws. So I'm familiar with it..." He said. "What about bipolar boyfriends?!?" I asked. "Love 'em!" He answered back, with a slight lick of his lips that told me he was lying, but was willing to try it out with me, bipolar as I was. Later he would find he just couldn't deal with my extreme highs and crushing lows.  But somehow the insanely passionate and tender sex made up for that.

We gathered together as a family to witness the solar eclipse. The anticipation and excitement was thick in the air. We'd waited a long time for this. As I stood there with my family, gazing up in rapt awe and wonder, I knew that this wasn't the first time I had been on this planet to witness an eclipse. It was then that my entire belief system crumbled.  I'd lived before, here on earth, and I would live here again. 

"My blood runs cold when he walks in the room. There are too many extreme emotions I can't deal with whenever I know he's anywhere near me. It's just too much for me to handle."

"You can't still love him! How can you say that?? He wasn't kind in the end, he showed you his true colors!" She clearly didn't understand. "I do still love him. He was just angry. Under that anger there is just pain. I understand that. Grief is misunderstood pain. We were both grieving. Anger is a secondary emotion. There's always something under all that anger." He explained.  "Wow..." Was all she could say.

You are Magic. Keep being you ~ bold, spectacular you ~ and get ready for a year beyond your wildest dreams. Happy Birthday Steven, I hope you know how special you are to me. I LOVE YOU! ~ RYAN

"I do not regret one professional enemy I have made. Any actor who doesn't dare to make an enemy should get out of the business. Any one who gets in the way of your work is an enemy." ~ Bette Davis

He'd finally snapped. He'd finally had enough. He was about to make some desperately desperate choices.

"He died alone. And I could feel what he was feeling. That's a horrible feeling and I never want to feel that again!"

"Don't get me wrong, I'm a total top!" He exclaimed as we crossed the street. "But... every once in a while I'm gonna want your sweet dick deep in my ass..." Every once in a while was once or twice, ever.

I would bolt up out of my bed, terrorized, if someone would try to wake me. This made it incredibly hard to sleep with anyone. That's why I preferred to sleep alone. There was a time when I couldn't sleep a night straight through.  After he had tried to attack me in my sleep. He had dark intentions. He meant to get at me. But he didn't ever get that far... For years, I'd wake up in horrible fear that he was still there. Waking Terrors.

He was a lot deeper then he ever imagined.  "Why hadn't he ever shared any of these stories with me?!?!" He thought. Because you weren't the kind of man that ever would have listened. Because it was all about you, all of the time...

"Grief takes time." He said. "It may take forever..." He said. "Take all the time you need, it takes the time it takes..."

We'd had a night out. I'd said too, too much. They forgave me. "Goodnight my friends!" I hope we're still friends tomorrow...

"You never say what you're thinking, and that drives me nuts!!"

"If you were given a magic wand and you could make your life anything you'd want it to be, what would it look like? What would you magically conjure up that you don't already have??" Jacob questioned Ryan in another counseling session. Ryan initially didn't know how to respond. Realistically, he had most of what he wanted in life. What he felt was missing was the comfort, simplicity, attention and affection from a male presence. "I cannot say what that would look like, what that absence is in my life." He lied. "Magic wand...? If I'd actually been confronted with an identifiable presence that hadn't been there before, I don't know if I could definitely define what that is..." More lies... What a jumbled up mess of a response...! Ryan's mind flashed back to the moments after he left Jacob's office and the tears that streamed down his face as he collapsed on the bathroom floor, powerless to hold back the emotions.

Forgiveness Tuesday, a Practice @ Alpine I choose to forgive you, Rita, for breaking my heart so many years ago. I choose to forgive myself, Ryan, for holding on to that broken heart, and offering it to others undevoted. I forgive you, Dad, for all the angers and fears you had concerning me when I was a child, and into adulthood. I forgive you, Mother, for absolutely nothing. But in case you feel I need to forgive you for anything, I sincerely forgive you. I forgive you, Brother, for assuming I was something I wasn't, until I was, even though others may have convinced you that I was at the time. I forgive myself for holding resentment against anyone and everyone who has ever hurt me, emotionally, mentally, physically.  Forgiveness is a process, a painful and lasting one. I choose to go deeper within myself and find more to forgive myself and others for.

She sat in my office in tears. She had lost her husband in a horrific tragedy. He had been unstable for years. He drank, took medication for severe depression, and had abusive tendencies. He'd gotten physical with one of their children during a fight. The police were called. When they arrived, he stepped out on the front porch and took his life with a firearm, in front of her, the child and the authorities. It tore her up for a long time. I got the impression as she shared this horrible event with me that she hadn't been able to share this with many people. But she had hope. There was a famous psychic medium coming to Wyoming, hosting a live event of readings. She intended to go, with the hopes that her dead husband would come through. She sat in my office a week later. He had come through to her. With a message. "He wants me to tell you that he is incredibly sorry. He knows how you feel, he's experienced all of your emotions, even to this day. You see, when you die, d...

"I don't know if my meds are working, how can I tell if they are...??" He asked. "I always tell my patients the same thing. It's difficult for the patient to tell if their medication is working or not. I always recommend that they ask someone who is close to them whether they feel the medication is affecting them in a positive or a negative way. So, ask someone who is close to you in your life." He took her advice. "Honey, do you think my meds are working well for me?" He asked his wife. "I have to be honest, honey. The drugs you are taking have you not caring about anything. You just don't care about anything anymore..." So, they must not be working...

After all the bullshit falls away, you're still the one, the one I ultimately love. 

"We're neither here nor there, we are everywhere, all at once."

"There are two things I can't stand." He said. "Oh yeah, what's that...?" He asked. "Poop and blood, that shit grosses me out!" "I'll remember that."

I just awoke fresh from an afternoon nap, refreshed, alive, with a mind on fire. What struck me strange was the condition before my short nap. I went to bed feeling nauseous and sick at the revelations I had freshly revealed to Katherine. She took it so realistically and wisely. She didn't judge me in the least, it seemed. She said that she feels she has to be numb when she is with me, yet she would forgive me anything. It just blew me away to know that she still loved me enough at the end of the day to still want to be with me. A great weight was lifted from my soul during that nap. Yet somehow my whole world just changed. It just opened up. I'd just stepped out of the closet.

Roger and Victoria found him, later that night, curled up and absolutely solid in a heap of blankets. Alanis Morissette was blaring loud for the whole house to hear. This had woke them. They found the door locked, and no response to the hard knocking.  Roger had to use a large wrench of some kind to crunch the door knob to get the door open. Randy was still in the same position. They turned the music off.  I wonder if they tried to rouse me. I suppose it may not have crossed their minds to check and see if I was alive... I'd taken Zoloft, a dozen Valium and a few Tylenol after a night out with Jack & Cokes.  I had the mission to end my life that night. I slept the entire next day away. I wouldn't tell anyone for years.

Pride robs the man of any and all identity. Humility restores the man of all that he lost to pride.

At first he said. "I don't need ice cream because I'm happy now..." Next he said. "I need the ice cream now, because I'm lonely..."

"I haven't wanted to come out of my house... but I have a life..."

I read The Book of Mormon out loud, three times when I lived alone. With an awful spirit. A spirit that could hear me. And I could feel him. He was angry and dark and had evil intentions for me. He had waited for me there, in that place of my own on the other side of the country. Don't read aloud to the spirits, especially The Book of Mormon. The words I read aloud were the only thing protecting me from him, and he and I both knew that.

"Don't you want to tell the stories of your life?!" She asked. "Any story or secret or whatever you like. Just think of one, and tell it, even if it doesn't have a point, a beginning or an end. Even if it makes sense to no one but yourself. Tell it anyway, even if there is someone or no one to listen to it."

I came out, sexually, on stage at the age of twenty-three. Thirteen years later, it would happen in real life. I remember the character and the play and how one particular person would say, after watching the performance night after night. "You got gayer and gayer every single night!" I suppose I had, after all, I had to create a believable character. "Thirteen years later, why is it so difficult to do so in real life?!?" I asked her. "Because everything that your life is supposedly built on is contradicted if this is all true, and it is. Perceptions and priorities all change." She paused, then continued. "Rumors are stilled and the raw truth will burn as frost bite in everyone's bones..."

He decided 'no'.  He doesn't get to. He doesn't get to talk to me like that. He doesn't get to treat me like that. Not anymore.

He was red wine. I was white. He was the dark. I was the light. He was never wrong. I was never right. I would rather run. He would rather fight.

Ryan had been cast in another small town theater production. He was starting his acting career as a freshman in college, doing something he loved to do, surrounded by people who loved the stage as much as he did. The play was Black Comedy, and Ryan had been cast as the protagonist, an antique dealer named Harold Gorringe. Ryan was thrilled as he read through the script and chatted excitedly with the other cast members. His director came up behind his chair, crouched down and stated. "You know the character is gay, right, and you have to play it that way..." Ryan froze. All the thrill and excitement had now been replaced with sudden anger, fear and shame. Was he just type cast?? He knew he was. That part of him had yet to come out... this show would expose that side. In the weeks that followed, Ryan owned that role, the anger, fear and shame subsided, and the thrill and excitement returned. His performance was raw and delightful and the audiences laughter and love gave Ryan th...

Brian and Ryan loved to take walks together, especially down on the River Walk. They kept pace with each other nicely, side by side, and so sweetly in love. Walks were a regular thing with them, early in the morning, in the afternoon, and sometimes late at night.  This particular night they returned home together, both knowing the door would be locked, the clothes would be shed, and they would soon be in the bed. As Ryan tended to Brian, gently and tenderly, his lips and tongue found his sweet hole. "Oh my, there's a lot of fluffs happening back here..." Ryan wiped away tiny pieces of fabric that had gathered around his tight ass. "It's my own personal lint trap..." Brian said. Ryan busted up laughing, then got back to business... 

She came with her own demons. She had her secrets. She would chose to spill them when she pleased, not whenever he asked. She was labeled a Jezebel by the theater boys. He could see that side of her, she was an awful flirt. There was that side to her, yet there was another side, a larger one. The ethereal side, the lovely tender side, the pure side. She was layered like an onion and spread like a peach. She was loud. Her voice was amazing, on and off stage, and in the bed. Her vocalizations during sex were fantastically riveting, and he could make her cum!

Nothing can protect me now, from this mess I've laid down. Secrets made and hewn low. A new way to be, shed the lies. Shed the lies. I've had enough, shed the lies. And in the shadows you believe, and in the darkness you receive. Finally, finally, finally. And in the silence you find peace, and the spirits meet you there. That remind you of your own. Be set free, shed the lies. Shed the lies. I've had enough, shed the lies. And in the shadows you believe, and in the darkness you receive. Finally, finally, finally. You don't have to ask. They'll find you.

He went to a Voodoo Witch in New Orleans.  Asking for a spell to destroy his enemy.  "I cannot." She said. "For he is protected by Angel Magick."

He decided he was decidedly done with him. Done with the drinking, done with the smoking. Done with all the things he said he'd do that he did not do. He quit it all, all at once. And walked away. He was not the man he said he was.

He was beebopping around the kitchen, brewing afternoon coffee and listening to a podcast. I was reading one of my occult magick books on the couch.  We could be together, without actually being together. It was our sweet way of being who we were individually, while still being in our own company. It was the sweetest spot to be in. We loved each other, very deeply, for a time. This was the time. "The coffee smells amazing, as always." I say, as I lay my book down to go hug him from behind as the coffee reached perfection. "How's your magick book, my beautiful psycho?" "I like that! I'm your beautiful psycho!!"  I should have been insulted. But it was true. I was both.  In those days, he loved my psycho side. Later, he would not. 

"There's never going to be 'good' time to deal with the shit you haven't dealt with for all these years. If you don't decide to deal with it, it will continue to drag you down. Do the work now, here. There are people here to help you through it all." "I don't feel ready to deal with it. I don't even know what 'it' is. So how can I deal with it if I don't know what it is..?!?!" "You'll have to be the one to decide that. Have you ever just sat with a feeling long enough to actually feel it? It seems to me, from getting to know you, that you run from the feelings and reach for the drug. And now that you're sober, the drug is no longer an option anymore. I've noticed that you distract yourself from the discomfort you feel by occupying yourself with something. That's not healthy. Let yourself sit in the uncomfortable places, both in your physical space, and your heart space."

"I've had this overwhelmingly horrible feeling lately as if something bad is about to happen, and I don't know what it is!" He was sobbing on the phone with his mother. He was gasping for air. "You've had this feeling before. You've told me this before, remember?!?"  "Yes I know, I have. But this is different, this time it's stronger. It's going to happen soon and I know it!" He was desperate.  "What can you do about it right now?" "Nothing..." There was nothing he could do. He would just need to wait it out, and find out...

"If one drug isn't working, you try another one for three to seven to twelve weeks, as long as it's the same drug class." Shell explained to me at one of our weekly appointments.  If I wanted to try something else, I did. If I wanted my dosage changed. If I wanted to see the world differently for awhile, mess with my brain chemistry, you know, I could.  She was a legal drug pusher who offered me anything that I could reasonably afford. The days and weeks were long, learning how to deal with the world after having been drugged a bit. "Normal human beings don't go around acting like that." She told me. "You definitely need these drugs!" I suppose I had told her too many personal details about my life...

"Are you a good witch or a bad witch?!?" "It doesn't matter which witch I am, it only matters which witch you are..."

"Is there a way to escape all this pain?!?" He asked desperately.  "No. The only way is to give into the pain, surrender to it."

I could read his thoughts.  Every moment of every day.  So that's why I decided not to stay.

"I haven't wanted to come out of my house. But I have a life..."

My Aunt handed me a tiny woman's purse pistol. None but maybe three or four inches was this inlaid with pearl silver pistol.  Why was she handing this to me?? How much pot had we just smoked and what were we talking about?? She knew I was in fragile condition, much too fragile. "Take this with you so you have some protection tonight." She insisted with a few too many hisses for a sentence with few s's in it. "I'm going back to number 3 to get some sleep." I slurred. I took the pistol. I came close to using it that night, as I took a bath.  I needed protection only from myself.

"Randy is alone far too much in this world Roger." Victoria told her husband, deeply concerned for her son. "Randy," Roger stated, "is alone through and by his own choices, decisions and actions." "That is very true. You must admit that we've done everything we possibly can to keep him above water for years now. I have to keep doing whatever I can for him. You're not close to Randy, so you don't know what it's like for him, to be him right now. I want to tell you everything, I do. But it's just too much for him to bear on his own like this. He doesn't need to be alone." Randy overheard this discussion, when his parents thought he was sleeping.

Randy and Rosalies's tragic ending was fate in the works. Randy had to believe this. It's the only true way to move on after a relationship of this magnitude disintegrates into nothing but silence. Silence, silver screens and psychotropics land, with a dash of pot and a stiff drink. There were a series of orderly coincidences that played out in our faces that neither of us suspected, but went along with anyway.  Lies. Lies were the thieves that stole those girls from me. Lies that lived only in my head. Lies that I thought would never be let out. Letting lies out is forbidden. So when those lies were laid out on the table, she simply held more cards.

"The smell and taste of a man's ass is so incredibly intoxicating!" He said. "I fucking know, it's the best!"  We both laughed, knowing what we both knew.

"Time does not exist as we think it does. All you ever have is now."

"Why do you keep your collection locked away in boxes and trunks like this??" Katherine asked, concerned, knowing how much Randy loved these things. "Because, someone long ago made me feel ashamed of all these things I love."  "Oh." Katherine knew who Randy was referring to and that more questions weren't needed. Randy was a seriously specific obsessive collector. Most collectors display their items in their homes, proudly for family and guests to see. Not Randy, he hid them away inside boxes and trunks.

"How do you remember so much? You're recalling memories from years ago... you were so young." She asked. "They all just came flooding back to me, once I sobered up. Like strings of memories... All the shit I didn't want to remember or deal with. It all came out, the good and the bad." He answered.  "That's wonderful. Now it's your job to deal with it!" Another session concluded. 

Robert was a sweet man. A sunglass fortune made man from Jackson. He was looking for a husband, as was I. We chatted, connected nicely. We agreed to meet in Dubois. At the Military Museum.  We chased eachother through the museum. We kissed. He grabbed my crotch. I grabbed his ass. He wanted to call me 'Daddy!' He paid 200$ for a hotel room, which we spent 20 minutes in. We got naked. He sat on my face. "Yeah Daddy, you like it when I sit on your face..?!?!" I busted up laughing. We didn't connect. He went his way, as did I.

Steven & Ryan, It was wonderful meeting you Ryan! Thank you for sharing our big day with us! Thank you for the card & the money too. We put the money in our savings account for our future kids & home. We hope you had a blast, ate lots & drank plenty. Love, Carson & Hope

Change was always there, waiting to surprise the poor fool who put too much hope in a future of any permanence.

We were walking the streets of Vegas.  I'd never seen a city quite like it. We'd had a fight, but I was willing to forgive. He was walking fast, I couldn't keep up... "Hurry up you short legged mother fucker...!" And then he wondered why I didn't want to hold his hand.

Hey Love! How's it going? Better here. Just figured I'd write ya before this hour got over. I guess it's good to know that I'm giving that piano to someone who's gonna take care of it, and play. I guess I was worried that someone was going to use it for something to put their pictures on or something like that. So, how's your day getting along? Good I hope. Well, mine's gettin there. I guess I don't know what more to say. Oh yeah! Are you feeling sexy today?!! Love ya Lots! W/B Roses are red, violets are blue, and no matter what, I'll always love you!

Ryan, You're all I think about any more. I love you so much but wish I could see you more often. Well, I think everyone is sick of me talking about you. At night, when I can't sleep, I'll lay here and think about you. Last night, that girl that likes you kept coming up to me and saying you're so lucky to be going out with Ryan. So finally I turned around and said, "I know I'm lucky!" and walked off. She never said anything to me the rest of the night. I almost threw up backstage because I hadn't eaten all night. But I'm sorry I started crying last night, and then I didn't come talk to you. I was just really pissed off and was scared I'd take everything out on you.  But I'm really happy that I'm with you, and I want to be with you for a long time. I wanted to kiss you last night, but I didn't have enough guts to. But now I wish I would have. Well, gotta go! BYE I love you!!! Erin

"I'm letting out too many demons. Too many secrets, that I've kept only to myself. Too much ink revealing too much of the black and white of real life. It's a struggle to get through, and it will be troubling and disturbing to reread." Randy told his addiction therapist.  "It hurts, but it's good for you to get it all out. So it's not stuck inside you anymore. I think this book you're working on is great soul work, digging deep into your memories." The therapist returned. "Accept yourself as you are, not as those around you tell you you are. Not as they tell you to be. Be as you are, come out as you are. You're a beautiful and broken man, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that."

Josh had a class with me once. We had an altercation, some stupid words exchanged. I can't remember what I said to provoke him, but he got up in my face, close enough to kiss, if I had chosen. "EAT ME!!" He ejected into my face and the entire room, for all to hear. "Wouldn't you like me to...?" I hushedly whispered into his ear. Not many could've heard me, maybe only those close by. He looked me up and down and raised his eyebrows to indicate he would gladly take me up on the offer. I walked away with a growing erection that I needed to hide, straight away...

"It's something you've always struggled with your whole life, I know." Victoria stated, after these many years as mother and son. "Why couldn't we talk about this when I needed to mother?" Randy asked, on the verge of tears. "We, as a family, never did a whole lot of pointedly talking, we just didn't talk about things like that." Victoria spoke softly as an approach to quiet the potential argument that may ensue. "You're right mother, we didn't talk about it then, let's not talk about it now."

A boy in high school who dated Ryan's sister's boyfriend, and later slept with him. Josh had a school boy crush on Ryan and Ryan knew it. Ryan never did anything to lead the milk chocolate faced boy along. But Josh put Randy on his list of boy's to conquer later in life. And he did. But only because Ryan wanted it. He was attractive and brilliant. Ryan should have experimented more with him while he had the chance. But he was mouthy and cocky, stubborn and selfish. Just a brat through and through. He had a fantastic package though. Nearly perfect in Ryan's fine opinion. 

Brian Jensen loves Ryan Jevne's "D." He thinks Ryan is cool too... XOXO Brian

Partners From hanging out and talking... To laughing over the craziest things... To celebrating the big and small stuff... To sharing the best memories... Life's way better with you around. Happy Birthday to MY GUY Ryan, LOOK! I found a gay card in Riverton, WY. I love you and love sharing my life with YOU!! XOXO  BRIAN 

Ryan, It wasn't me putting words in your mouth and thoughts in your head!! It was Brooke!! So if I was you I'd talk it out with Brooke.  At the recital I walked by some girls. They must have saw us talking cause they asked me if I knew you. I said I did and that your name is Ryan. Then I started to walk off. I turned around to look at them and one of them said, "We all think he is cute." So then I said, "you do?" they said "yeah" so then I just said "oh" and walked off. But I have heard so many things from Brooke, I couldn't name all of them. I love you too and want a good relationship. But I just wanted you to know that it wasn't me. I have a C in three classes. I couldn't work cause all I could think about was how I might lose you. And because of Brooke, half the boys at school think I'm pregnant! And so now Brooke thinks she can do whatever she wants to me! Brooke really likes you and she's trying to get us to break...

Brian & Ryan Thank you both for being always so kind and supportive to me; you've truly helped make my Wyoming experience what it's been.... GREAT!  I'll miss you both sooooo much and hope you'll come visit me wherever I'm at next. You've REALLY been so special to me! Love and Hugs, Maria keep it real #wyostyle:)

My best friend Sandi and I were taking a road trip to Jackson, to see a real witch. "A real live, honest to goodness, bona fide witch?!?!" I begged the question. "Yes!" She excitedly answered back. "A real one. But we must not forget to bring the thingy she told us to bring..." "What thingy?" I asked.  Then she pulled it from her pocket. Two nights later, as we returned to the hotel room where the witch awaited us, the witch had a few words for me. "You would have lost that glow that you have. And that sparkle in your eyes. And that sweet purity." She was right. She knew that if I had gone home with that man that night, I would've lost that glow, sparkle and sweet purity.

His space was always so sweet, simple, tight and tidy. Eclectic in style, patterns and colors. He was about aesthetic lines and beauty, decorating his small home so sweetly. We sat together at his small breakfast table. He loved prepping meals for us together, and now he had a new home to do so. Coffee and breakfast with Brian will always be some of my favorite memories. He collected himself and reached across the table to take my hand. "Are you still happy with me?" I asked. It's a question I would ask every once in awhile, checking in on our tender and rarely tumultuous relationship. "Yes, most of the time. But sometimes I don't know. Seems that the sex is a crutch sometimes..." He was honest. 'A crutch?!?' I thought. Ouch. It was as if the sex was the only thing keeping our relationship together. He was right. Were once we spent days on end together. Now we only met on the weekends, for sweet morning coffee and breakfast, and intense afternoon sex...

It had been three weeks since he had come here, to this social vacation, addict ridden day spa. Where everyone else received unlimited attention for all the wrong reasons, and he only got the opportunity to comfortably masturbate once. There was quite a load to deliver after all that time. All the pent up sexual energy and frustrations only added to the slimy mess. But it was a long time coming, the release and the orgasm was fanfuckingtastic! He thought to himself, 'I should do this more often.' However, when he was rarely alone and shared a room with another male addict, he had to be sneaky and quiet about it, which wasn't an easy thing to do at all.  There was a certain thrill in masturbation when there's a possibility of being caught.

"Who does that? Who decides half way through their life that they want to change everything they have ever known? It's against everything I've been taught throughout my life. Against everything that I have built in my life. Why if it's such a part of who I am does it cause so much damage in my life?"  Randy asked direly. Jody, his addiction counselor came back with an answer. "People change all the time. Their wants and their needs change as they do. Life tests all the boundaries we have set for ourselves and those around us. Not everything you've been taught requires you to believe it. Acknowledging who you are is bravery. Those who truly love you will forgive the damage."

"To justify is just to lie." She made a point to emphasize this idea. Randy made a point to remember this statement, for he had done this a thousand times. Anything could be justified if an imagination was broad enough, and Randy's imagination was spectacular.  Justifying became second nature to some, where it was the only way to live the way they were living, regardless of how they were damaging themselves or others. Randy realized he was riddled with a mind that constantly justified every thought and action, convincing himself that the road he was heading down was not as dark as it seemed and not as dangerous as everyone made it out to be. The path less worn was always his choice, simply because it was unexplored territory and it offered the thrill of discovery. 

He was a twisted soul. A twisted and wicked soul. One whom consumed all other souls. Souls undeserving of being consumed.

One day I was beautiful and deserving of every happiness.  The next, I was disgusting and selfish. A coward and a failure. A liar and a thief. He misunderstood everything I ever was. But I knew him for what he really was.  All the things he felt I was, he was.

Guilt is contagious. It's catching and influencing. It's rooted deep, like a jagged and twisted thorn, impossible to remove when lodged so deeply. Yet when left to fester, it can wreak havoc on it's surroundings and make it impossible to move without pain. Shame is much the same, but more like a piercing needle, lodged deep and straight.  Removing it may be easier than guilt, but the sting remains for awhile. Holding onto that piercing needle of shame, deep inside of you. Imagine what that must feel like to move around with, day after painful day. Guilt and shame often accompany each other, partners in crime, working together to make the keeper of them feel as much pain as possible. I know this duo all too well.

Randy, after speaking with Katherine, had decided that another ten days might be okay. There were walls that still needed to come down and emotions that still needed to be excavated. Twenty plus years of shit layered thick and deep and compacted could not be processed in so little a time frame.  Randy knew he finally had to surrender and commit to this process if it was going to do him and those he loved any good at all. It would be difficult, as some emotional crap is bound to be, but it would be worth it. If only he could get through this without the obnoxiousness of the residents. Randy had decided that with his age came a certain low level of tolerance for unreal people, those who weren't true to themselves. Those who blindly followed without thought of how they were damaging themselves or others.

"This will be the last time, I promise." He tried to truthfully lie. "You're a bundle of lies, a very lovely one, beautifully tied together." He came back. "I'm trying to be honest, but, you won't believe me will you?"  "No, my dear, because I really don't think you believe yourself."

"I fell to my knees next to the car and lost it, and just started crying, having a meltdown after trying to remain strong for too long. I just fell apart right there and you wouldn't even do or say anything. You didn't want to touch me or show any emotion at all. What was I supposed to think?!?!" Katherine, in tears, playing back the memory in her mind, confessed and questioned. Randy broke down as well, after fighting back his own memories, and tears. "I couldn't process any emotions at all, there wasn't any inkling of what I should feel or what I should do. I hated feeling needed so much, all of the time, from everyone around me. I hated being loved so much, knowing that I couldn't possibly and honestly return that amount of love, back to those who gave me their love so willingly."

Even though it had only been a week, Randy had found some peace at Alpine. Short glimmering moments of hope that offered a glimpse into what his life could feel like sober. He hadn't been truly sober for so long. It hurts, it stings, it wounds, it cripples. Sobriety does. It doesn't seem worth it, at times. It would be so much easier to go home. But he knew he must stay, at least for the thirty day requirement. Deep down he knew it may very well require more time. The issues that he would be forced to admit and face here, with these people, wouldn't be easy. The very thought of speaking his feelings aloud to open ears was terrifying. Would those ears be receptive, accepting and non-judgmental?  His experiences had taught him otherwise.

Randy hadn't faced so many consecutive sober days for this long, in a long, long time. He couldn't take the constant banter and bullshit that flew in the house between one person and another. He was annoyed and overwhelmed and persistently pissed by the low level of interactions that occurred around him.  He craved genuine connection, something real, substantial and lasting. Preferably with a man. At the same time there were lines that he could not cross with those he was forced to be with all day, every waking moment. Although he'd hoped to find someone to hold onto during this process, he knew he could not. He was there for himself. There to repair and recover from the damage he had done to himself, single handed. Adam and Nathan were consumed with themselves, and any hope of real connection with either was clearly off limits.