Poor Guy...

Is it strange that I can "be" more gay with my ex-girlfriend (we both hate it when I call her that...) than with the current boyfriend (of 7 years)....

She and I were sitting together in the rear booth of our Friday night bar. While we somehow presented as having gotten past my proclomation of everlasting love and subsequent withdrawl, there was a tension of unsettled terms. Where did we stand? Why had all of this drama occured? Why was I not capable of showing the love that I've always held for her?

"Tell me what you think."

"I think you're gay and too afraid to admit it."

"You're right. You're exactly right." As nameless patrons watched my weak, sad step out of the closet. And she was okay with it. Somewhere inside I suspect there was a sad admission to reality; a forced effort to accept what had been there all along.

My best friend, she to whom I compare all others and the most wonderful person I know. How is it that I have earned her loyalty, trust and understanding of worth?

We went tonight to Green Queen Bingo, to her simply a break from the norm and an opportunity to wear pj's in public. To me another toe (safely) submerged in gay culture (and an opportunity to wear pj's in public). Another night to remind me of how lucky I am to have this true soul in my life who knows me, appreciates and values me, and holds me tightly not in spite, but because of who I am.

How the hell did this happen? How am I so fortunate?

(Her friend got to ride home in the back seat as we belted lyrics to Madonna, Gwen and Death Cab lyrics from the front. Poor guy..)