gayNwyo

As I gaze into the stars up above, I wonder what's become of our love, Knowing what we had, Or what could've been, We live with our sorrow down within. As I look into a faraway land, I see you holding my hand, And the nights seemed so young, Back when we'd just begun, Makes you wonder what could have been. Makes you wonder what was there before, And why we love each other no more, Forgotten's in the past, Have gone away at last, With memories of what used to be. Now we've both ended up alone, Living with our sorrow not shown, Thinking about what was, And if we'll find new love, Trying to leave the past behind. Makes you wonder what was there before, And why we love each other no more, Forgotten's in the past, Have gone away at last, With memories of what used to be. So don't look, and it won't hurt. Hide your fears, and don't show your pain, That longing once before, Shall be with you no more, And your memories will cloud beneath your mind. Rita ...

He was terribly reckless, and oh so romantic. He was spontaneous and horribly sexy and only slightly sloppy. He was a man on fire, with so much life and love to give. He made so many promises, with so much conviction to keep those promises. He knew what he wanted, and that was me, for awhile. He'd travel an hour just to see me for five minutes. He'd treat me like a king, even though I was living in near poverty. He'd spend money on me without a second thought, if it meant bringing a smile to my face. My happiness was his, he'd say. He said he wanted to take care of me, until he realized I couldn't take care of myself. He said there was no one he wanted more than me, and that I was what he'd been waiting for his entire life. Until the real life of living with me was too much reality for him. He set my heart on fire like no other man. A fire so hot, it was no wonder it burned me so much. A fire much too hot to burn for too terribly long. A fire that ultimately end...

"There just isn't time to change, there just isn't, this costume change is utterly impossible!! One of these nights I'm going to come out on stage naked, then what will we do...?!?!" She spoke with force and tenacity. Then we both broke into soft laughter, not wanting to be heard by the audience out in the house. I was taken aback and somehow turned on, watching her silhouette slipping in and out of costumes. I felt naughty witnessing any more, so I hid within the curtain wings, just off stage, out of the lights, still tempted to take a peep or two. I was falling in love with this energetic ball of feisty fire. She was young, sexy, voluptuous and she had it all. A voice, a presence, a force, and she had the most amazing breasts! I'd been brutally burned by the last sex bomb in my life, and was weary of any woman who might strike at my wounded heart in any way. But this one was different, this one had something remarkable and altogether unique, somehow undefina...

"Come to California with me." She invited.  She was 20 years my senior. I was a Shakespearian actor for three summers, and she was the director.  I'd never have an offer like this again in my young life. But it wasn't just California she wanted to show me...

Randy's love for Katherine was a complex emotion, or link of emotions. Fragile but intense, strong yet subtle. It's evolution stretched back years. Katherine loved first, yet Randy was the first to say it out loud. In the beginning Randy built up walls against Katherine, for the years they dated, on then off, then on and off again. It was beautiful torture for Katherine, yet somehow she must have felt that Randy was worth all the pain. To this day she endures it, on behalf of Randy. He's somehow numb to the realities of this immense love. He felt undeserving of such love. If it weren't for this love Randy would undoubtably be dead.

"He propositioned me, with a pair of Ruby Slippers, for God's sake!" Randy ashamedly confessed, to the LDS bishop that sat behind a desk, directly below a painted picture of Jesus Christ. Although Randy never pursued this venture for a pair of slippers, he still felt the guilt associated with the thoughts of doing so. "Well..." The reaction on the bishop's face wasn't revealing at all. His years and practice in the arts in psychology had served him well in this moment. "Can you elaborate?" Randy didn't dare add any more to the confession. There was entirely too much to tell. "I cannot say anymore than that. It's a long complicated and disturbing story, telling it all would be too much. Can't you just accept this confession and take it to God, or whatever, and ask for forgiveness for me? Isn't that the way this is supposed to work. Isn't that how I'll be forgiven for my horrible thoughts and desires. I'm not well...

To the only one you It's but my heart I shall give And forever on forward With you it shall live My love at this time Will finally reveal And from your head to your feet It will bow down and kneel This reason of love I do not know But from that first glance It started to show I no longer believe Of a passion in style And your undying love Is well worth my while I will try my best To bring you no pain To push away hurt And help my love gain And honest to truth With no trusting lies I'll live on forever Your love in my eyes RR

"I need your help with something." She said. He could tell by her tone that they were about to go into something quite serious. They had just made love, sweet young, tender and passionate love. They lay nude, vulnerable and satisfied. "What is it..?" He asked. "When I'm with you, I'm fine, I'm happy. But when I'm not I go into this dark place. When I'm alone I get incredibly depressed. Being with you grounds me. I feel safe with you, like nothing in the world could go wrong. I know that sounds crazy..." She confessed to him. "I understand how you feel, I'm happy you can talk to me, I'm glad you feel safe with me." He dearly loved this girl. "I've had dark thoughts about ending my life sometimes. I've tried it several times, but never quite finished the job. If I ever needed help with that, could you help me?" She surrendered her deepest, darkest thoughts to him. He needed to be ever so careful with hi...

"I don't know what I believe. I'm having some sort of midlife spiritual, emotional crisis." He confessed. "I'm here for you. I understand where you're coming from. It's alright to not know what you believe. It's alright to not know how you feel. Let me make love to you, that always makes you feel better." "I can't right now, I have a hemorrhoid..." "I don't care about that." He said. "Well, I do!" He clearly didn't feel like making love. Their once intimate and intense relationship ended shortly thereafter. 

"Same sex relationships are a lot less complicated than male female relationships." He stated. "Yes, they are!" He agreed. "Men understand men so much better. Just like women understand each other, too." He went on. "Yeah, I haven't had another gay man to talk to about stuff like that. I'm glad you understand."  "Men have the same buttons. What pisses him off, will piss me off. We just know what we both want and need. There are no complications involved. It's simple. I need to eat, I need to sleep, I need to fuck... It's that simple. With women there's so much more involved. That's why I prefer to be with a man." 

"Why did you do me so dirty in the end? You destroyed a great thing that we had. I don't understand why you had to be so cruel and nasty??" He finally asked him, after letting it build up over months. They hadn't seen each other since their ugly breakup. There was fire inside both of their bones. "You threatened to run your mouth and try to destroy the one good thing I had going for me in this town, my job. Did you think I was going to let you get away with that? You wanted everyone to know what a horrible person I was, you were going to tell everyone, I just did it for you, exposed both of us... But none of that matters anymore. You and I don't matter anymore. If we really had a great thing, we both destroyed it. I won't take all of the blame for that."

Last night I had a dream about you. We were in several places, all at the same time. Together but not together. Wanting to be together, but unable to be. I saw you through doorways and down hallways, through windows and glass. You were passing by me fiercely and fast, just out of reach. There were fences and walls and so many spaces between us. But I could feel your heart beating through those spaces between. My heart was racing, in anticipation that somehow I'd catch up with you in this maze of a dream. But I never did, by the end you were gone, nowhere to be found... and I was left alone to wonder if perhaps this wasn't a dream at all.

They'd spent the weekend together in their sweet spaces. The weekends were all about them, being close to each other. Naked or not, but mostly naked. They'd brew coffee and chat, then make love on the sofa and barcelona chair. Brian riding Ryan until he busted on his stomach. Ryan would then deliver his load into Brian's tight, sweet ass. "You are my handsome pervert." Brian would often say. "Who knew someone so handsome could be so perverted? Not that I'm complaining, I love your naughty side. I need a naughty handsome pervert in my life!"

It's been so long Since I thought this reply If your love for me's strong Then I will not deny For my heart says the same And forever it shall Be real and not lame Or grow old and be stale Your voice I can hear For many long hours With you I feel near To that incredible power It is you I can trust Our hearts will be true For this feel is not lust I really do, love you, too RR

"Close your eyes now, and go to sleep. Nothing more to be done today. Tomorrow is a big day, your twelfth birthday." Victoria gently whispered as she turned off the light. Randy snuggled down into his sheets, pulling them up over his head. He wasn't at all tired. He then removed his pajama pants and began to explore his body, having discovered how incredibly good it felt to touch his new found favorite appendage. His penis. It didn't take much to arouse himself, a slight touch only. He was teaching himself the art of masturbation, although he didn't yet know what that was. He'd fondle, and rub, then stroke.  Why did this feel so delightful, and guilty at the same time?  He wouldn't reach climax by himself until later the next summer. When it finally happened his still developing mind exploded... and there was a slick and slimy mess of a mess to clean up... "Damn!" He thought. "This is my new favorite thing, ever!!"  Randy's first lo...

She'd been curious about the new guy at work for months. He could tell that she had some questions for him, but she didn't feel comfortable enough with him to ask yet. A few months later, they knew each other quite well, and got along just fine. She finally asked. "So what turned you, what made you gay? You've been with women, you have kids, what made you decide you were gay??" He had been asked this so many times before. So he broke it down for her. "Nothing turned me, it's always been there. There was no decision to be made." He explained. "I just don't understand, it doesn't make any sense to me..."  "What's your favorite color?" He asked her. "Purple." "Why is that your favorite color?" He was getting to his point. "It just is." She answered. "That's the way it is, it just is." He went on. "In the moment of attraction, is there a choice to be made? No. When you saw y...

She's a middle aged meat cutters wife. LDS, clearly repressed. He's the new gay guy at work, everyone knows him, but few want to break the ice just yet. Being gay in a small town in Wyoming can be touchy business when it comes to addressing homosexuality without being too harassing or offensive, especially in the workplace.  Within a few months, the meat cutters wife and the gay guy at work had broke the ice and had been cutting to the chase ever since, getting to know each other despite their differences, and similarities. They'd become quite close. "I started seeing a new therapist yesterday, and we had a great talk about so many things, he's helped me see myself in a new light and I feel so much better." The gay guy told her. "That's great, I'm happy for you. Didn't you say you have a bachelor's in psychology?" She was clearly interested in what gay guy had to say, but had her things to say, too. "Maybe you can help me with a ...

"And after all the bullshit is wiped away, and all the damage is done, and all the pain is done hurting, I'll be here, waiting for you." He said with the hopes he'd be forgiven. "I forgave you lifetimes ago, for we've been here before, and we'll be here again, I'll love you in this lifetime, and the next..."

Ryan and Brian had just finished each other off. Ryan inside Brian, and Brian on Ryan's chest. Brian melted onto the pillow next to Ryan, and Ryan laid his right leg over Brian's right thigh, smearing it with fresh, warm cum. Ryan ran his fingers through Brian's ginger chest hair. They then drifted off into a post orgasm nap, Ryan gazing at Brian's tender facial features, ever so much in love. They awoke a bit later that afternoon. "My ex's new man is strange." Ryan said, after meeting him for the first time. "He seems like a real tool." Brain weighed in. "Seems to me, he's not just a tool, but the whole tool bag...!" Ryan cackled, and Brian snickered. "I really shouldn't say that, I just met him. I really don't know him. If Katie loves him, he must be something special. Even if I think he's nothing but a little Mormon man baby..." Ryan admitted. "Now there's something you should know all about!" ...

It was April 1st, the fool's day, and he had a plan... "I've got a plan." He started. "I think we should quit smoking together. That way I can afford the new vehicle payments and we can have extra money for other things. We can use the vehicle to take trips, road trips with the kids and things. I shouldn't be smoking in a new car anyway..." "I think that is a wonderful idea! I've always wanted to quit smoking, and now it's something we can do together. We can support each other through this. You don't know how much this means to me, really!! Thank you!!"  I was April's Fool, believing that he would ever quit smoking, for me, for my kids, for a vehicle, or for anything else. His priorities were smoking first, everything else came last....

"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...