After being harbored last night by two very loving and relatively new friends, a mentor and a muse, I felt I needed to interject before posting The 15th Pt. II (about Maggie).
The changing landscape of my friends this year was not all negative. I gained more than a few that I believe will either leave long lasting impressions on my person, or be there, by my side, till my end of days. I’ve already written about Ian and Paul, but as they were together last night and on my behalf, it warrants addressing.
In the early spring, when it was still cold – and in fact, on the same day I lost my job at Domino Magazine (which folded today, Poor Wendys.), I attended John Cameron Mitchell’s monthly party Mattachine. I quickly became drunk, was very loud and believe I must have been canceled on by some people, or invited too many and don’t recall spending proper time with anyone.
Regardless, I met Ian. I had heard of him. We shared friends. I was curious to meet him because of the nature of his work. I did, managing to tone down my absurdity and we both made lasting impressions. I then, however, disappeared for a few months. When I came back to New York City, I tracked him down and finally called. He asked me what took so long.
A great deal happened between that moment and where we are now. He has been the greatest teacher I’ve met. He has trained me in the art of being, well, simply put: me. He taught me how to stand, how to look at the world, how to eat and speak, how to listen. He took a dimension of myself and expanded it, over caviar and champagne. He gave me books and showed me art and theater. He taught me Mahalia and Rosemary Clooney.
And he shared with me his story. That is what I am most thankful for: sitting with him and cigarettes and gin in his living room and listening to how he became who he is. Ian is a leveler and a reveler. He makes no effort to hide his judgment over some of the things I do and say. With his WASP sensibilities and Jewish sense of humor, he will bring me down with a smile, but because he knows I will respond and react. He levels me. He also has faith in me, and makes that apparent in more than just a desire to better me. He sings my praises about how far I’ve come (and from such an unstable place). For me, he is a reveler as well. Dinner’s with Ian over the late summer kept me alive. He, himself, kept my spirit alive. He is much more difficult to get in touch with these days, busy with work and his unending supply of visitors, but every shared moment we have is truly valuable to me.
I wrote something already about meeting Paul and I’ll share an edited version here:
In a daze, leaving the Diesel 30th Anniversary Party, I lost track of my friends just past the exit. I turned around to find them and met the face of a blond boy. As he walked beyond me I slowly followed, thinking about what I could potentially say to make him think I was interesting or worthwhile. I was startled by how drawn to him I was. For a moment, everything was silent and blurred. He was a point of light.
From nowhere, a girl jumped on his back and shouted, “Paul!” She slid off and I realized I had come to the event with her. Paul was a classmate of a new concert friend, Crissy. She introduced me to him:
“Paul, this is David.”
He extended his hand, which I welcomed.
“You are absolutely adorable” were my only words. He smirked and before anything else could be said Crissy pulled him off into the distance. I watched before realizing I was supposed to be leaving with other friends.
I located them and walked on making all the tales of Paul align with my real image of him.
That night I alerted Crissy that I had a terrible crush on her friend Paul. She told me he had a boyfriend and I sank.
He had in one instant, made everything else disappear. Crissy, and her statement, brought everything into painfully sharp focus. He was beautiful. Unique looking, yes, but clearly exquisite. Something profoundly insecure about myself only allows me to pursue people whose very look overwhelms me. It constantly sets me up for defeat and Paul was clearly taken.
So, that was where it began. Since that moment, I’ve struggled to stop writing about him. Our relationship has developed. I know him, now, for example. And I love every bit that I know. I want to learn more, and find myself craving such.
He is a leveler/reveler. I stand in awe of him, and feel humbled. He is someone worthy of destroying my peace for. He does indeed have an aura. And I stand with him and feel confident because he too cares about me. His affection reinforces. Ours is a dance on light feet with lighter hearts.
Last night, Ian and Paul met. It was odd for me. So fresh our relationships: so much change in one year’s time. And Paul medicated me, as I am still without health insurance. Ian, once more, fed me. And the three of us, all vastly different creatures, occupied the same space and the same time and I felt whole.
