Tue, Jun 29, 2004, 12:01 PM

Warning: this journal entry is not for the romantically challenged. Cynics are advised to go no further. And I apologize in advance that this entry isn't better written. I've had such a startling mix of powerful emotions wash over me this weekend, that I'm not terribly coherent right now. It's written more for myself than for anybody else - so that I'll always remember how I felt this weekend.

Sat, Jun 26, 2004, 4:14 PM

Ben is here, and since I'm so unaccustomed to having someone special in my life, I thought I'd document my feelings more carefully. He flew in from Singapore this morning, and now, at four in the afternoon, he's asleep in my bed while I lounge around the apartment on this beautiful Saturday afternoon.

When I first got him into my bedroom after driving in from the airport, I couldn't wait to get my hands on him. We were quickly naked and pressing ourselves against each other and I found myself almost faint with passion - a feeling I haven't had in many, many years. After a while, Ben went to take a shower, so I lay on the couch in my living room window, reading. It was a warm day so I was just wearing gym shorts. After his shower, he came out into the living room in his underpants, and we lay together, slowly exploring each other's bodies with our tongues and hands, the sun shining warmly through the windows. It was unbelievably erotic. At one point we looked at each other in wonderment, and I'm sure both of us were thinking, "Lord, could this moment be any more perfect?" There are times - like these - where I feel I'm totally falling in love with Ben. Then there are times I really don't know.

Later, we walked down to the Castro to meet B & S, who were shopping at Diesel. Ben took my hand and I felt a bit self-conscious about it; I think because of how I thought it would look - me a very tall guy hand-in-hand with a man of average stature. Silly, but the internalized self-hatred born of acutely suffered childhood malice is hard to shake. I'll always have the little boy inside me who was laughed at for the size of his feet and his awkward, boney, lanky body.

Patience isn't my strong suit, and after we'd had brunch at Cafe Flore, we wandered back and forth through the streets of the Castro, and I started to grow tired of the wit and repartee our conversations (those of B & S, and Ben and I) consisted of, and the dallying in stores looking at tank tops. Probably my smile looked a little forced by now. I was, in truth, tired - I'd had another poor sleep - one of a series - and was ready for a nap. Fortunately, Ben felt the same way so we parted from B & S and walked home, hand in hand again. My street is so quiet and beautiful that holding hands felt agreeably companionable rather than demonstrative. Ben has been asleep now for a couple of hours. I tried and failed to nap, so ended up reading more of my latest read "The Jane Austen Book Club".

Sun, Jun 27, 2004, 11:30 PM

Well, most of the weekend is over now, and I'll recount it later. For now, we just got home from Fresh, which was as exuberant as usual, and I'm suffering from my usual post-clubbing depression. Ben is in the shower - I just want to scribble down my thoughts before we go to bed and I forget them.

I didn't tell Ben that I felt depressed after coming out of Fresh, nor did I tell him that I was a little bit hurt by part of his behavior tonight. I'm sure it was unintentional, but whenever he'd be talking to his friends, he'd turn his back on me, and leave me sort of stranded on the dance floor, rather than trying to include me in the conversation. I think he probably expected that since I'm so tall, I'd be able to partake by just standing over him, from behind. Instead, though, I felt a bit like a lamp-post.

But I feel it's too early in our relationship to bring drama into the equation. I don't want him feel bad about things. I certainly don't want to tell him whenever I feel depressed, because I know from my experience in other relationships that it's so easy for me to fall into the trap of desiring comforting. Comfort leads to sympathy, which leads to pity and eventually contempt. Of course, in not sharing how his behavior affected me, I'm possibly being passive-agressive. Jeez, how do negotiate these things - it's all a whole new ballpark. The other trap I fall into is the alternative of coming across as the strong, silent type. I've a pretty masculine demeanor, and being tall and broad-shouldered, I feel I have a strong physical presence. All my lovers have, obviously, been smaller than me, and when I wrap my arms around someone it feels as if I'm playing a protective, nurturing role. I find myself playing to type, and it can be somewhat self-indulgent.

Just last month, I was telling my therapist that I had nothing urgent in my life to talk about. She said, in response, that now that I'm heading, potentially, into a serious relationship, things will come up. Errrm, I guess so. The problem of being so introspective - and of being a human island. Here we were driving home from a fun night out at my favorite club event, and Ben had no idea of the turmoil that was going on in my mind.

Tue, Jun 29, 2004, 12.07 PM

Wow, what a weekend. I don't know that I can fully explain the difference between Friday's state of mind and this morning's. Where do I start?

Let's go back to Saturday evening. We eventually got ourselves out of each other's arms in time to walk back down to the Castro to meet B & S at 2223 for dinner. And afterwards, we walked back to my apartment to pick up my car so we could drive over to Hayes Valley to go to the symphony. It happened that one of my favorite pieces was playing this Saturday, the Saturday of gay pride, and I hadn't expected that Ben, B & S would be interested. But they were all game, so we ended up in Davis Symphony Hall that evening while the Mahler-size orchestra assembled. The piece was Mahler's 2nd, the Resurrection Symphony - one of the most spectacular and uplifting pieces in any orchestra's repertory. We sat two rows from the stage, so we got the full blast of sound from the huge orchestra, choir, soloists and organ. It was a teriffic, precise, emotional performance which affected us all. I almost always shed some tears in the finale, when the massive choir shouts out it's final few words, and the orchestra rolls into the last few bars. This time I didn't cry, but Ben did, which pleased me no end.

Next stop on our activity list was the main (i.e. most expensive) Gay Pride club event of the weekend, "Colossus" at the Gift Center. It was a huge, badly lit, impersonal space, which had no energy to it, and neither Ben nor I could really get into it. So by 12.30, we decided to leave and go to the alternative event, at Mezzanine. Unfortunately, we couldn't persuade B & S to come with us, so that was the last we saw of them this weekend. On our way over to Mezzanine from the parking lot, we suddenly spoke out loud the, by now, obvious fact that we were ready to call each other boyfriends. We'd held off using that term until we were both sure.

Mezzanine was much better than Colossus, with a nicer, more friendly crowd, much better music, and more people whom we knew. We stayed until four-thirty, spending the last half hour of that time dancing slowly, wrapped around each other, in our own separate world, having an intimate conversation. Ben had mentioned, half jokingly, that maybe I wouldn't like him so much if I knew him warts and all. I mentioned that I was covered in warts too. So he asked me to name one. I decided it was time to tell him that I've suffered from depression of and on for the last decade. With sudden clarity I saw that telling him this was not at all a sign of weakness, but more a sign of strength. That I've been able to deal with my depression, and live with it, not letting it control my life. It was a weight off my back to tell him, and feel that it left him knowing me more thoroughly.

We were both exhausted by the time we got home. I'm a terrible sleeper when there's somebody else in the bed, and Ben has been very accomodating. I'd told him I'd go sleep in my spare room. But we lay down in my bed for a while beforehand. Next thing I remembered was waking up at 8.30 in the morning in my own bed. I guess I'd fallen straight asleep and Ben had gone into the spare room.

Our lovemaking in the morning was more passionate than ever. By the time we finally got out of the apartment to go over to the Gay Pride festival in the Civic Center, it was already after noon. It was another gorgeous, warm day, and I was blatant enough to walk out the door just wearing low-slung jeans, no underwear, not even taking a shirt, and my dogtags. I felt so studly. Whether or not I looked studly I've no idea, but Ben said the sight of me was arousing him, and since he was the only audience I cared about, that's all I needed to know. That Ben is completely and strongly attracted to me, and has no hesitation about telling me, is having a remarkable effect on me. For the first time in a relationship, I don't feel challenged by my own insecurities. And I'm finding that I'm totally uninhibited sexually, also a new experience for me. I did things to Ben I've never done to anyone before.

The festival was rather boring - a lot of drunk, rather freakish, sunburnt people walking aimlessly about the Civic Center wondering, as we were, what else there was to do except gawk, eat barbecue, and look helplessly for an interesting booth. We didn't stay long. We were both still very tired, so we returned home and spent most of the afternoon continuing where we'd left off in the morning. It was during this extended period of making out that I inadvertently told him I loved him. It just came out with no forewarning. Who'd have thunk I'd be the first to say those words.

Finally, we had to tear ourselves away from the bed to get ready to go to Fresh on Sunday evening. There, I proudly introduced Ben to everybody I knew with the words "This is my boyfriend". It's been a long time since I've said such words. After coming home from Fresh, and after my short-lived attack of depression described earlier, we talked and made love for hours, both of us fairly loopy with passion.

Ben was leaving mid-afternoon on Monday, so we had time to make out like bunnies yet again. For the first time in my life, I cried during sex. I'm not entirely sure what's come over me. I didn't know that I was capable of such strong feelings. This is certainly the only time in my life where I've been in love with somebody who also loves me. Perhaps it's that synergy that is overwhelming me.

However, even yesterday, there was still a small reservoir of doubt. It was really only this morning that I realized just how deeply I'd fallen for Ben, as I try to concentrate on my work (working at home today). Just thinking about him again sends waves of chemicals coursing through my body. Ben has always been uninhibited and courageous about showing and telling his feelings. Hitherto, I'd been afraid that his feelings, which I wasn't sure about returning, could scare me away. Now, in the space of a weekend, I'm beginning to feel the reverse, and thinking that I might easily come on too strong to him now. Where have all these emotions been hiding all these years?