CONNECTION
There was two tenants. One was a Middle Eastern guy. The other one was a German. No relation whatsoever. They each went about their day, never saying hi to anyone here or each other.
Then they found out they had something in common: being determined gym rats. From there, I watched as the two tenants would come back from school and chat. It finally climaxed with today with and they two of them going to the gym together.
No man is an island. No matter where you go or what you do, it was always the same. People always have that need to connect.
Three years in San Diego. In that time, I really have only been this last year that I felt like I was connecting. Frenchman, Barsuk, Art, Brazil, Joel...I met people who wen ton to become friends, enemies, and/or lovers.
While there was a human need to connect, could a person go it alone?
FAMILIAL CONCERNS
It was very well known that there was no love lost between me and my sister. If I did not know her, I believed I would assume her middle name was Trouble. It was not helped by the fact she schemed me out of a lot of money.
Imagine my surprise when I heard it. A vibration. As I turned in my bed I knew it could only be one thing: my cell phone.
The day in question was Thanksgiving. The night before I had stayed up all night watching movies...until dawn. So I went ahead and texted everyone best wishes. Then I tossed over.
Big mistake. There were texts from current friends. A phone call here and there from old friends. I started with quick looks and then dozed back off. I ended in groans, wishing only for some sleep.
However, this vibration caught me off guard I turned over quickly, grabbing at my phone. I looked, my eyes widening.
It was my sister! Granted it was a holiday so I should not have been surprised. Yet...I was surprised.
I turned over and went back to sleep.
Later on, I went about my day. You know...get up, find food, iron, take a shower. I thought about my sister's call...and the texts following it. She wanted to have Thanksgiving dinner at Hometown Buffet. She wanted to see if I wanted to go.
Well, I was off work. It was not like I had anything to do. And some of my sister's recent doings to my nephew left a bitter taste in my mouth. Did I want to be around her?
In a word: yes. NO matter what she was blood. She was family. And I am sure she was lonely. I texted her an ok, but I would be running late.
And...it was pretty great. I got to catch with my nieces...both sporting new hairstyles. Sis and I had our drink on. I even got to see some cute (but straight) boys.
Best of all...I didn't feel so alone.
IN OR OUT
In the time I've been in San Diego, I had gone through friends with shifting quickness. Like a flame, the friendships would start off red strong and hot. Next thing you knew, it would be like we were mere acquaintances. With that, my only friends...were my co-workers. And that was kewl since they were gay.
Until...Brazil.
Brazil...whom I knew when he lived at Hotel S before...came into our lives and altered it. Where there was a tight trio of friends all of a sudden my life turned into an episode of THE HILLS with me as Lauren and my 'frenemy' Art as Heidi. Joel, who was with friends with both of us, was stuck in the middle. Along with him was Crossdresser Guy and Frenchman. Add on to that Brazil's crazy behavior when he's messed up and you have a show.
If anything came out of the feud with Art, it would be that such situations revealed who your real friends were...and who wasn't.
"I have something to tell you and you won't like it."
I looked up from my desk. Frenchman stared back at me. He actually looked uncomfortable.
"Oh," I said. "What?"
Then Frenchman dropped the news on me. It was one about activity between Brazil..and Art. Something would have been fine....except for MY activities with Brazil...if you know what I mean. What hurt more...was the fact that Crossdresser Guy also knew this yet had not said anything...even thought he had been talking to me all that day.
"Thank you," I said once it was over. "You really have no idea how much that meant to me."
He really did not. Where I came from, there was a word for what he was doing. Frenchman was being a true friend by watching my back.
It was an ideal that Barsuk also did. Granted it was not in the same way. However, the meaning behind it was the same.
What did Barsuk do? He encouraged me to go out. Some weekends we would go to a Mexican bar. Some weekends we would hit up chic omnisexual Universal. Sometimes it was a dive bar.
And I got Barsuk's point quite clear. He wanted me to be having fun. He wanted to hear me not bitch about Brazil, brood about Kos, or feel betrayed by my 'friends.'
In other words, he wanted me to get over it. He wanted me to move on. He wanted me to live life...not rot on the vine.
And for me...you cannot have true friendship without connection. And I finally had true friendship. And it felt good.
PERSONAL CONNECT
The night it happened?
Kos had made me angry. He wanted me to get over his indiscretion. It was now or never to decide if we had a chance. I had not had the information long enough to decide anything. He also wanted me to stop being friends with Brazil.
Brazil and I had been friends for a while at that point. He had opened new possibilities within me. I had been his rock during his depression over his first love...as well as his many booty calls. Kos constantly wondered if he was after me, but I assured him that Brazil so did not see me that way.
Which was why it irritated me that he wanted me to stop being friends with someone who had chanced my life. I was also annoyed that he thought I should sleep with Brazil.
Later on, Brazil gave me a shoulder to cry on...and a lot to drink. I complained about Kos and our fight and his accusations. Brazil was still bummed about his his first love...even thought he was in Arizona.
I remembered showing off my glowstick skills. Brazil had never seen a light show. He was happy. I had not done a show in a while. I was happy.
Brazil needed to get cigarettes. I was drunk, but I was like sure? As he headed to his apartment door, Brazil turned, headed to me, and grabbed me in a hug.
"I like Mr. Diego," Brazil declared. "You're my bestest friend."
"Okay," I replied. "Let's--"
"But you are my friends!"
I patted Brazil on the back. "You're my friend, too."
Brazil kept hugging me. He kept hugging me. I don't know. The anger over my fight with Kos. The closeness of me and Brazil. Our foreheads touching. The liquor. The look in his eyes, hinting on something else.
"Uh...Brazil..." I started.
"Does Mr. Diego like Mr. Brazil?" Brazil asked.
"...yeah."
Brazil leaned a bit closer. "Does Mr. Diego want to kiss Mr. Brazil?"
Well, I thought, in my drunkenness, since I was already accused of doing Brazil anyway.
"Yes," I answered.
And then...we kissed. We paused for a moment. Then...we kissed more feverishly, me carrying Brazil to his bed and him tearing off my clothes.
After months of not connecting to someone in that way, I did . It felt great. Little did I know the drama that would unfold over such a short period.
***
"I have a boyfriend."
I stared at Brazil. It had not even been a week. We had decided to take a break from each other due to our constant fighting and the drama it seem to cause. And before that break Brazil had admit (in the middle of sex) that he 'liked' me. And 'like' for him was his version of 'I love you.' So...I was taken aback....by the way 'I love you' as well as the bombshell of a boyfriend.
Our fling was never suppose to be real serious. Still the news did not make me a bit happy.
It was a feeling that continued to grow as I watched him and Fat Navy Guy (my nickname for the nelly queen...and yes, I've seen his DVD collections so I know). All of a sudden, Brazil was not allowed to smoke, drink, or talk to other people. And I...got to hear about how lame his sex life became.
Lame or not, I definitely was not in the mood to hear about Brazil's sex life. It just reminded me of what I did not have. What I wanted.
In a word: connection.
It continued all around me. People were connecting. Art got back with his boyfriend. Barsuk continued to meet, fuck, and run with as many women as possible. Even the most unlikely of my friends, Joel, had made connections with people within seconds of meeting people. I looked at it all with a strange sense of detachment.
I also looked at it with a sense of envy. It would be nice to connect. Connection allowed a person to...have a feeling of belonging. And isn't that what all people want? From what I saw from people around me, and on television, and in books, the answer was yes.
When I attempted a connection, it always appeared to burn here. I looked at Brazil and I. I looked at how Art and Joel relate to me now. I looked at work.
I never felt so...disconnected.
LINKED
Funny how connected a person could feel when they feel their world threatened.
Case in point...
"I'm leaving."
I looked up at Frenchman. The back of my head throbbed, a result of having him hit me in it last night when we were drunk. Frenchman sat on his bed in the apartment, his head nodding.
"Yeah," Frenchman said, "I'm leaving...for good."
The eyes widened as he continued, telling me his backstory. Apparently, this past year, while Frenchman and I had become good friends, I really did not know him at all.
What I did know...was that I had made this connection. And the connection to another human being...was good. I did not feel alone.
I also know...I would be alone again.
No man was an island. Each day, people formed, connections between family members, friends, acquaintances, and lovers. Connecting made a person belong. And darn-it...I loved belonging.
After all this time, hell was alone again. And Frenchman's bombshells left me adrift in a sea of disconnection.
Diego
Back to 2008