Some Things You Have to Write Alone

I sat down tonight and set about the task of expanding upon the section entitled "Debbie" but as I read through it, it was apparent that I had written a skeletal version. This surprised me because when I wrote it I felt the weight of the story and assumed that I had written something commensurate with what I had felt. I was wrong so I set about fleshing it out.

This I learned - some things can't be written about in coffee shops. Some things can only be written in private where you are free to let tears fall and snot drip from the tip of your nose without concern for making others uncomfortable. Some things you need to write alone.

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Naked in the Hallway

Jessica sat facing me in her green armchair with a mug of water on the small table next to her, the one that held the Kleenex and the small clock which faced her. I sat in the middle of the couch and looked at the floor trying to get up the nerve to spit out my words. I had decided that this would be the day that I would tell her but now that I was there the words wouldn’t come out. It was like like the time my mom stopped me in in the hallway. I was naked with a towel wrapped around my little body. Perhaps I just felt naked or perhaps I’m remembering the black and white snapshot of me, naked and bent over sideways with a towel wrapped around my shoulders, and have inserted that snapshot into this memory. I had just gotten out of her bathtub and was making my way down the hall to my room when my mom called to me from behind. “Were you the one who left the heater on?” she asked in a tone. You know the one. It's the tone that says she already kno...

Evolution of the story: Naked In The Hallway

The first person I wanted to come out to was my therapist. I’d been thinking about my sexuality for 3 years. Was I or wasn’t I? Is it possible to be 40-something and have not figured that out? It took a lot of research, reading, writing, watching, trips to the library, contemplating interactions I’d had throughout my lifespan. It took 3 years to grapple with it and to come out the other side, ready to live honestly and shamelessly. I don’t know why, but in order to do that, there had to be a proclamation, “Hello world! This is who I am and I won’t hide it one more minute!” I imagine standing with my feet apart and my arms outstretched so that they make the letter X as I scream it in the middle of the street. It reminds me of the person who has decided to give themselves to Christ. Why is the ceremony of baptism so important? Can’t a person let Christ into their heart and that be enough? No. No it is not but not for the reason that the nuns in my C...

The Third Wheel

It was the summer before tenth grade when Purple Rain came out in 1984. I sat in my chair on the left side of the theater watching the screen, pretending not to notice my friend making out with her date in the seats next to me. Today I wonder why had I been invited to tag along and why had I said yes? It is not hard to put myself in my room at my parent's house with the telephone in my hand, dialing the the push buttons and waiting for my old friend to pick up. We hadn't seen as much of each other since my parents had moved us across the intercoastal waterway and North up I-95 to the town of Palm Beach Gardens the year before. I'd probably called her and asked her what she was doing that weekend. Did she want to hang out? Maybe she felt sorry for me. Maybe that's why, when she said she had plans to go to the movies with her boyfriend, she said I could come along. Maybe I said, "Okay," because I wanted any little bit of my friend I could ...

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