March 2000 Out in the Mountains 15

TWENTY

by iliumas iienninu

where romance was the dri-
ving force. I have watched
as the perfect situations unfold

I have seen a lot of movies

. to create just the right touch of

magic and mayhem for stories
you know will be retold again
and again at anniversary parties
and funerals.

I watched with a bit of envy
as these Hollywood moments
took place. Occasionally, I
would wonder what my
moment would look like. How
would my love story unfold?

It is no secret that I have an
immense aversion to romance.
My intimacy issues are almost
an urban legend, and pump-
kins, I don’t know the last time
I have left the scene of a
romantic event with butterflies
in my stomach.

The irony is I am a hopeless
romantic. I want the entire Julia
Roberts movie with the sound-
track, flowers, and quirky ten-
der moments. I want it so bad
that I fight every opportunity it
comes my way.

Valentine’s Day made me
think. I had some twenty of my
favorite people over for a
Valentine Brunch. It was won-
derful. There were food and
drinks, but most importantly,
there were my friends, people I
have known for times ranging
from 10 months to 10 years,
who enrich my life more than I

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9ft Oak Bench $260

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Friends and Lovers

think I could describe. They are
fianny, strong, loyal friends who
aren’t afraid to let their hair
down, roll up their sleeves, and
jump right into life.

There were a few times that
afternoon that I had to just stop
and take everything in.
Surrounded by love and laugh-
ter, I realized that nothing was
missing. But I also realized
what would enhance this
moment: a lover who had the
same magic my friends pos-
sess; a person I could enjoy as
much and be as drawn to as the
friends that bless my life.

Later that week, I went to
see a couple of movies with my
best friend and soulmate. She
and Icritiqued the semi-syrupy
movies and their lovebird
heroes. We laughed and held
each other’s hands when emo-
tional moments arose; a gentle
squeeze to let the other know it
was okay and we were glad the
other was there to share the
moment.

When I got home, my mind
drifted to when we first met. I
remember her abrasive manner,
and I would venture to say that
my haughty nature left an
impression on her. We connect-
ed almost instantly. We fought
like dogs and laughed like
school children. We had a spe-
cial language, literally, full of
code words and body language.

Through trial and tribulation,
we could almost read the
other’s mind, finish sentences,
and not only listen but hear
what the other was saying. As
friends go, she is my Julia
Roberts movie, and she is part
of what is special about my life.

Now if only I could find that
in the color of lover.

Pumpkins, am I crazy? Is it
crazy to want to meet someone
with whom I feel a spark the
moment I look into his eyes, or
to feel butterflies the moment
that his hand brushes mine? Is
that expecting too much?

Don’t get me wrong, I have
had my share of special
moments. There have been love
letters under my pillow and
three dozen roses sent to me on
one day by one person. I’ve
been skydiving with someone I
loved for the first time so I
would never forget him or that
moment, and had phone con-
versations that touched me.
I’ve not just shared, but created
dreams over dinners.

I have been showered with
affection only to turn it away
because it was too scary or not
the exact fit. My fears helped
me justify every reason I had
fabricated to let the person go
or push them away. Too this
and not enough of that. I have
loved only one man. He broke
my heart, but that love was one

 

 

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I will always remember. It was
how I pictured love, sans the
dysfunctional quirks that kept
us from being together, and
how I want love to be in my
life.

Growing up a little closeted
queer, Greek boy, I didn’t
dream of Mr. Right, and I bare-
ly let myself think of a future
that involved anyone other than
my family. I wasn’t encouraged
to think about what I wanted
out of a partner, or what I had to
give. I just closed myself off to
all of that and never let myself
want it. I silently decided that I
didn’t deserve to be loved and
that maybe I wasn’t supposed
to love at all. Keep your heart
closed and your will strong,
and you will be able to conquer
anything. But the thing about
conquering is that, sooner or
later, you are left standing
alone.

I have had my share of bad
experiences. I have gone to the
drive-thru of Skank-In-The-
Box more times then I would
like to remember, sweet peas,
and my membership to Kennel
Ken’s Connection has expired.
I don’t have time for Rats, and
I have lost my tolerance for
Super Rats. I went through the
dark era of believing that I had
no worth and that I was fortu-
nate enough to receive atten-
tion from whoever showed it-to
me.

I have said it before, I am
truly blessed. I am truly.
blessed not only because I have
such a wonderful cast of char-
acters in my life, but also
because I understand just how

amazing these treasures are. I
am blessed because I have
finally reached a point where I
can look in the mirror and see
what is looking back at me:
Fanny Bryce, Holly GoLightly,
and Maggie the Cat all rolled
into a Greek country boy who
just wants someone to love him
and let him love him back.

Well, maybe he has a few
more wants than that, but that
is a whole other article. V

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