WHERE YOU ARE
It was back.
The sarcastic tongue. The rapid fire wordplay that was set off by the sight of couples holding hands. The piercing glare and roll of the eyes at the closeness of any couple.
Yeah. The Anti-Couple Me was back--with a vengeance.
Was it because Kos was not here so the couples reminded me of our closeness? Was it because the couples made it look so easy? Was it the fact they were representing what society wanted couples to be...something I will not have?
I may never know.
All I knew was that Anti-Couple Me was back...and I hated it.
ONE IS INDEED THE LONELIEST NUMBER
One.
It conjured up so much for me. One person going out to the club. One person sitting in a coffeehouse. One person walking down the street.
One.
One...felt awfully lonely. Especially when you see them.
It could be they are straight. It could be that they are gay. It could even be that they are really a gay who claimed heterosexual when he really dallied (a lot) with more man than his wife/girlfriend/smokescreen chick.
It was all the same. They were close. They were holding hands. They brushed shoulders or arms. They had witty repartee in some cases.
Most of all...it looked so easy.
Meanwhile I stand at my past. Whether it was at Retailo Techo or the family restaurant, it was the same. The couple was in front of me, laughing and joking. Sometimes it was like I was not even there. It was like I was a virus.
Other times, I stared at this too-public display of affection and thought. It felt so long ago that Kos and I were one of the couples. We went out and danced. We woke up together. We laughed and joked. Then...it was tore away due to a little thing called a VISA.
It would bother me less if it had never happened. However, the truth stared me in the face. My mind accepted it.
I had finally been in a serious relationship. After 26 years of feeling like the only one and wondering if my prince was actually coming, he showed up in the form of a jet-black hair-having tall Russian. Then it was cruelly taken away, leaving me as one.
Funny thing about one. When it became two, the idea of one looked silly. I was used to one and acted as such. One can definitely be fun when you are with your friends. Many of my adventures happened when I was one and 22. However, I wasn't 22 anymore and now I had become two. With that gone and me having a taste of it, one truly became the loneliest number...ever.
WHERE AM I
If you are just one, a pattern emerged. People...couples especially...appeared to think they can push people around. I walked through the mall almost daily. I saw a couple heading toward me. Like a game of chicken, neither one of us moved. At the last moment, a shoulder shifted. However, it did not shift enough so I bumped them. I get a glare.
I glared back. Excuse me? Am I suppose to move because you are with your honey? Let me roll my eyes and say 'Puh-leaze.' Just because I am single does not make me some inferior being.
So where am I exactly? I changed my status weekly it seemed. I'm single. I'm waiting. I'm single. I'm waiting.
While I was in search of a balance between what I knew and what I wanted another question came up:
Where did I want to be?
NOT GETTING YOUNGER
It was cool in my early twenties. From the warehouses of Memphis to the clubs in Little Rock, It was all an adventure. Who would Diego hook up with tonight? Would he be the One? How much fun could Diego and his friends squeeze in? Because I was single, the world was a landscape of possibilities.
Funny thing happened as I'm entering my last twenties. Goals have cropped up in the form of making my dreams of writing for a living a reality. Responsibilities have risen up in the front of two jobs, children (not mine) and bills I never had before. As can be expected, I have had to go through a transition. As a result, some things changed.
What was okay to be and do at 22 was not the same now that I was 26 (going on 27). Didn't I want more than a long line of one night stands? Did I not want that one who can make me a two?
It took me seven years to find Kos.
Would it take that long to find someone else? And does that mean I wanted to be with someone or that I just was tired of being single?
WHERE IS HE?
Ken called today. He thought something was wrong with him. We have a mutual friend who recently experienced first love only to have the guy leave since he was in the service. even though he was in Iraq, the friend waited. Ken thought that they so belonged together. However he kinda felt annoyed that these straight people who are perfect for each other could find each other in a snap while he was the proverbial gay guy by himself? Where was his perfect mate that he could laugh and joke with? Was he destined to always have no one while he was constantly surrounded by couples?
Gay people have to overcome so many ridiculous things just to find one person they feel close to yet it never seems like that with straights. For gays, they have to figure out if a person is gay, if the person is out, where to go if he isn't (or is). It felt like all of these rules. Meanwhile all a straight guy had to do was show interest and bang! A date! If it worked out, bang! A couple that could hold hands in public. Meanwhile someone who is by themself was seen as tragic.
One was not tragic however. I had a fun night out at Kadan, a bar in North Park. They threw a monthly rave party and I went. It was a great time full of drinks, happy people, and excellent music. I danced with s, endured a dance-off, and made merry. That night one...was fun.
There was a time when one was always fun. I'm not young anymore so now I want more. I want to be more than a One. I'm tired of the insane runaround.
I want a Two.
Besides...it's funny to have someone to laugh and joke with...anti-couple or not.
Diego
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