The story of a gay redneck and his effort to dodge the cow patties of life.
Monday, January 24, 2011
One Eye Open
I’m one of those weird people that has epiphanies in that space before sleep and waking. Just as my bedroom goes from pitch black to the seeping gray of the approaching morning, things that have been floating around in my subconscious suddenly become very clear to me.
I realized that Scott, my second lover blamed me when his car got reprocessed. I remember what my mindset was like back then and it was this:
“You’re a big boy, you’re the top in our relationship and you need to take care of your own bills. Hell, you need to be taking care of me!”
What became clear to me this morning was this: I was his 1st male relationship. I was six years older and he looked at me as “experienced” in matters of love & life. Scott was lost when it came to money and I failed him by not realizing this and being more proactive about his bills. I was wrong, very. Who the “man” in the relationship is has nothing to do with who gets penetrated. When it comes to his family, a man is proactive, caring, protective, empathetic and strong. After Scott’s car was repossessed I had to become his taxi, shuffling him back-n-forth to work in rush-hour traffic and to be honest, I resented the hell out of it. I began to view him as a mess and kind of washed my hands of him emotionally. I wouldn’t let him fuck him anymore because I lost respect for him as a man. We broke up five painful months later. It was awful.
Scott, if you should ever read this, I’m sorry. I failed you. I was a royal asshole.