Fretting about love

I met Russell in 1990. I was 22. I realize now that the ensuing 13-year relationship, while it taught me many, many things, prevented me from growing in a way that I imagine other people grow in their twenties and thirties.

I believe that young people meet different folks and form relationships with them, learning a little about themselves and others each time. For instance, when I moved to Baltimore, I did so to be with Jerry. After Jerry dumped me, I dated George for a couple of months, then dated John for a while. I broke it off with George, while John broke it off with me. Then I met Russell and... well, you know. 13 years.

Jerry, George and John. I learned a little each time. Russell and I taught each other a lot.

So here's my fear: I believe that we slowly learn to recognize what we need to complement ourselves -- what we're looking for in a partner -- as we fumble through these relationships. Will I be able to recognize the right man when I see him? On the other hand, I know how to compromise and make a relationship work for the long term. Will I compromise too much? I could end up in another relationship that endures, but in which I eventually realize that I gave away too much, like I did with Russell.

EGN likes me, and I like him. He's sweet and cuddly. I like snuggling with him on his couch as we watch movies. He's an exciting lover, and I just know that he's being patient with my vanilla tastes (although I think I'm ready for a little kink). It's easy to love him while we're making love, but I don't think he's the one for the rest of my life. How can I know how to proceed?

I know that, in a way, these questions don't matter. It's either be in the world and make friends, or retreat and guarantee that I'll be alone. I've got some growing to do.

No Shame At Pride

Today was Baltimore's Gay Pride Festival. After returning home from todc's movie night (more on that in a later entry), I dropped my stuff off at home and headed to the festival at Druid Hill Park.

There seemed to be the same number of booths as last year, but lots and lots more people. It's always fun to wander around and reconnect with people you may not have seen in years.

On two occasions, people who used to work at the non-profit I worked with in Baltimore -- both straight -- ran into me and we caught each other up on what's happened to us in the intervening months or years. I actually confided my HIV to both of them, and I didn't feel at all uncomfortable about doing so. It seems strange to me to withhold what was the single most significant event for me in 2003 from them, if I truly considered them to be friends.

I'm actually pretty pleased with myself that I've managed to diminish the knee-jerk need to defend myself against someone else's possible criticism. Giving into the fear and shame would have prevented me from being fully present in each reunion. I consider it a great accomplishment each time I push it back a little farther.

After the festival, I headed home and ran out to get a sandwich. While I was there, I ran into CS, another friend of a friend. We talked for a bit and I invited him to join me on Friday to see Dick: the Musical, which was written and directed by a friend of mine, P.S. Lorio. PSL offered me a complimentary ticket, so I'd like to bring along at least one paying guest. :-)