blogtastrophy

It takes a big man to admit he's a freak. I only say that to make you admire my candor and honesty in the face of the realization I've just made about myself. I'm a bit of a voyeur, I think. I've noticed that it's become my modus operandi of a sort to snap clandestine pictures of the cute men I see here at Sheep Meadow, and I'm a little alarmed that I'm allowing that to take the place of actual interaction with real people. I mean, that shit can't be healthy, can it? I don't know the last time I've actually taken a chance and tried to engage someone who's interested me in conversation. In my defense, of course, it must be admitted that for a long time I had the excuse of having a boyfriend to stop me... when all's said and done, it's not all that kosher to go around flirting with people when you're involved with a partner of four years, now is it?

But now that that's over, and I find myself free to do so, I'm discovering that I'm reluctant. Granted, too, I'm in a public place and don't have even the tiniest inkling of gaydar, so there's the fear that I might be flirting with a straight guy to stay my tongue. But I think it goes much deeper than that, and that the four years of being in a relationship with Gavan allowed me to not deal with the deeper issues.

I've always had self-esteem issues. To be honest, I think it's a built-in feature of my family. It's not something I try to explain, it's just something that I accept. I think explaining it would require years of therapy and more money than I could ever muster (and that's not really meant as a comment on my current situation - just an observation of the life I've chosen). But at the end of the day, the fact remains that I have serious doubts about my attractiveness to others of my kind, and though I'm pretty good at hiding that, and I'm a bit of a charmer when it comes to meeting other people, when it comes to those one-on-one interactions with other gay men, I'm hopelessly backward. And I'm not stupid. It's all about fear. Fear of rejection, failure, humiliation. All that shit that countless people do to themselves. 'Cuz I don't have any illusions that somehow I'm special (at least in that respect). There are tons of messed-up people in the world, and on the WackoMeter®, I think I score (thankfully) rather low. I'm whacked-out, but my issues are nothing compared to some peoples. Even, frankly, some people I know!

But I'm not really talking about them, am I? I can only deal with me.

Which brings me back to my own little weirdness. I like snapping covert pictures of sunbathing beauties. Thankfully, I have neither the technology or the inclination to make these pictures clear or close enough in which my subjects are identifiable. There'd no doubt be lawsuits akimbo were that the case. But just so I don't go away from today thinking that I'm a total freak, maybe a little rationalization wouldn't hurt. If they weren't proud of their bodies, these guys wouldn't be sunbathing half-naked in public, right? So in a way, they're kinda being exhibitionists, giving tacit permission to me to snap away.

I know. It's thin. Very thin.

Still, the fact remains that I did it again today (I didn't have this earth shattering realization about myself until after I snapped away, and then really thought about how many of my recent entries included images I'd snapped). So there you go. I'm just thinking that it's a good thing that I've never been able to afford the wide angle/zoom lens kit that I've wanted to get for my digital camera. Thank heaven, web friends, for small favors. Otherwise, extreme close-ups of you might end up here.

So anyway, back to my own foibles. I know I'm really big on bitching about people who do a little too much navel-gazing, but I have a feeling that this is a kind of important subject, and I shouldn't be allowing myself to deflect away from it just because it's uncomfortable. My problem is, of course, that I'm good at allowing myself to be deflected, and I'm good at rationalization, and I'm good at avoidance. It's one of the things that killed my relationship. God knows there were plenty of things that I wanted from Gavan - emotionally - but that I was afraid to ask for. There's a wonderful line from Lips Together, Teeth Apart by, I believe, Terrance McNally, in which a character says of his own insecurities and needs and fears, "How can I say these things and there still be love?" I thought something along those lines when there were needs and demands I wanted to make of Gavan. "How can I say these things I'm thinking and have him still love me?" Well, the truth is that the not saying those things is what caused our relationship to die. I (maybe we, for I surely can't speak for what's going on in Gavan's head) didn't understand that the love didn't die, but that the relationship could, for want of proper care and feeding.

Much of the failure and pain in my life comes from fear and feelings of inadequacy. As I've mentioned, I don't think I'm particularly unusual in that sense. My big problem - and it is a big one, especially given the professional life I love so well - is that I allow that fear to rule me. I think I may have journaled about this before, sometime last year, maybe. It is, after all, a recurring theme in my life. I've written often about how I sympathized with the character of Jim in Lord Jim. I was the only one in my high school English class who actually loved that book, and at the time I had no idea why. It was because I identified so clearly with a guy who allows his fear to overcome him in the single most important moment of his young life, and allows that failure to haunt him for the rest of his life.

So, of course, all this begs the question: How does one get beyond the past? How does one face the fear? Is it really as easy, as some would have us believe, as just saying "fuck it" and getting on with life? There's a part of me that wishes that were so, and there's another part of me that's gonna be really, and I mean really fucking pissed off if it is. 'Cuz if it is true, and the fear really is an emotion that can be easily ruled, then I've wasted too much of my life, and I'm never gonna get that time back. And that, more than my fears or my failures or the things I haven't done, is what would make me well and truly pathetic.