Let me clarify my format for this list: Some identification of the person loved precedes the semicolon; my motivation for loving, brief and vastly oversimplified, follows the semicolon. <\/p>\n
1. My third grade teacher, Mrs. Tupper; because she loved me first. <\/p>\n
2. My brother; he was my first best friend. <\/p>\n
3. Not Elton John; he lied when what I needed most of all was the truth. <\/p>\n
4. Not me; same as above. <\/p>\n
5. Andrew, my landlord’s grandson (he manages the building); because he’s sweet and sincere and beautiful. <\/p>\n
6. David Ackley, who was the very first one; because he was beautiful long before I had any clue how to appreciate beauty. <\/p>\n
7. Juan Valdez; coffee. <\/p>\n
8. Duke, my dog when I was a teenager; for being absolutely innocent, and for being a dog. <\/p>\n
9. The shirtless young man with the tattoo and the necklace, who I see on his porch from my kitchen window; because he’s cute. (And, apparently, straight.) <\/p>\n
10. My friend, John, in Boston; because he’s as loyal as a dog—and probably as innocent, too. Oh, and because he loves me. <\/p>\n
11. Anne, my supervisor at work; because she sees behind my disguises and its OK. <\/p>\n
12. Jimmy B., a straight boy who I had a crush on in my twenties; because he was irresistable to me then, I still have no idea why. <\/p>\n
13. David F., another straight-boy crush, earlier than Jimmy, when I was a teenager; because Dave accepted me loving him, and he loved me. He probably still does. <\/p>\n
14. The Thompson Twins; for Hold Me Now<\/i>. <\/p>\n
15. Neil Michael Medin, who is not remarkably pretty but is terribly attractive, who has sold me every bike I have owned for fifteen years; for his sincere kindness and integrity, and for his knowing<\/i> without saying. <\/p>\n
16. The cab driver who comes over for sex; for knowing where to go, how to get me there, and for always coming back, no matter how many times I told him not to. <\/p>\n
17. My great-aunt Helen; for staying kind against all odds, and for teaching me—when I was nine—how to crochet and how to love no matter what. <\/p>\n
18. My kindergarten teacher, Mary Winning; for inventing the world for me. <\/p>\n
19. Boy George; for always being himself, unfinished, unconventional, unapologetic. <\/p>\n
20. My ex-friend, Scott M.; for letting me love him, sans sex, which must have been more difficult for him to do than I can possibly imagine. (He was a hustler.) <\/p>\n
21. Bobby, the love of my life, with whom I realized that making love did not necessarily make anything at all like love; because he’s guilless, abused yet endlessly forgiving, strong as a rock and good to the core but as delicate and sensitive as the morning’s most fleeting and precious dream. <\/p>\n
22. Mary, the Half Mad Spinster<\/a>; for laughing and smiling and reading and writing, for occasionally crying right out loud (and hearing me when I do), and for being a person as sturdy and honest as anybody I have ever met—in person, or not. 23. A bellboy\/pianist I met when I worked on Cape Cod in the summer of 1989, Christopher Castle; because he had nearly as much—or perhaps even more—affection for me than I had for him. <\/p>\n 24. Peter, the pastry chef, who was my best friend during that same season on the Cape; because he loved me and because I never told him that I loved him. 25. Tim W., my boss that year on the Cape (it would seem I love just about everyone I met that year!); I love Tim because he was tough, open-minded, hugely energetic, playful, sweetly charming, kind, understanding… and he told me at the end of the season that he wished I would stay through the winter and be his friend. <\/p>\n What is broken in me that I keep failing to grab such ropes of love thrown to me here in isolation drowning? <\/p>\n 26. And of previous fame<\/a> in this blog, also from that year on Cape Cod—I need a break from this reminiscing—Peter Wiedenman; for being the one person who, even though I thought he would never notice the likes of me because he was so cool, not only noticed me, but focused on me. <\/p>\n 27. Tara, who is a spectacular person, a nurse where I work, an actress, an athlete, and a person with C.P.; because she has a heart of gold, and because she shows it to me, often. <\/p>\n 28. reX<\/a>; because he shares everything, and that is no small gift to me. <\/p>\n 29. Stephanie, the one I work with, who I am so close to that I can’t see her, and whose death I worry about irrationally; for being light, life, and love in flesh. <\/p>\n 30. Tommy, Stephanie’s brother, who is hot as hell, and possesses a fair amount of Stephanies best qualities in his own right; because he put my shoulder back in its socket with a simple gentleness—even though he hates doing that sort of thing—after I dislocated it dancing at his brother’s wedding. <\/p>\n 31. Paul, the owner of Tech Pizza, where I get most of my meals when I am at home; for just being kind, always kind. <\/p>\n 32. Paul’s (I think oldest) son; for being not only kind, but for possessing a particular gentle compassion, borne of a secret personal suffering of his own that I wish I could heal. <\/p>\n 33. Julie, the admissions department nurse where I work; for coming to work—like me—in utter dread and agony every day but, despite this, appreciating even more than I do my sense of the absurd. 34. My sister; for loving me even in my estrangement. <\/p>\n 35. Bill Lyver, my only friend when I was a teenager who I did not<\/i> want to sleep with; for being, very simply, an excellent friend. <\/p>\n 36. Paul M., who was the other first one back in 1984; for touching-off in me a desire that never was and, fortunately, never will be fully satisfied or extinguished. <\/p>\n 37. Kenny A., who fanned that desire into a fucking conflagration; despite the burns, I love him for the fire. <\/p>\n I have wrung from my heart as much as I can for today. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Out of bed. Considered writing yesterday (like everyday). In fact, I just remembered that I had actually opened the Movable Type new entry page. Never stroked a single key, though. Some more important diversion (which I can’t recall now) distracted … Continue reading
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\nScratch that. It stays in the list because I believed it when I wrote it, but I was oh, so wrong—oh so very wrong. Lesson<\/a> learned.
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