|Wednesday, July 2 2002|
|I'm realizing the reason I've been taken by Skott Freedman's music. His lyrics and the emotion he puts into singing resonate with all the unresolved feelings I have towards John. I think the reason I still have these unresolved feelings is because there is no closure from our past relationship. I have no explanation why, no reason for his actions, for the ending. IT has been hard dealing with an ending for what could have easily been misunderstanding, insecurity, fear. Reasons that could have been worked through, willingly by me, not by him. If his feelings for me waned, I could understand - there could be some sort of closure, I think.
Praying for him these past three years has kept him in my thoughts. But, I want him to be happy and whole, comfortable in his own skin. If I am honest in saying I love him (loved him then honestly), how can I do anything but pray until I have an assurance that he is on the right path? Thus, the thought of him is still alive in me. The memory stays alive. The unanswered questions stay alive. My desire for his best stays alive, so I pray and the cycle repeats. The heartache over unanswered questions of why... continues.
I heard someone say (or read the writings) that closure is the luxury of the well-off. Compared to most of the world, I'm well of. Those who subsist don't have the time for closure; they have to get on with the life of survival and... continue. I have the luxury and I don't know what to do with it but to continue.
What's it going to be like back at school? What's it going to be like living with four other guys I don't know? What's it going to be like living in a fifth story walk-up - all those stairs? What's it going to be like living in New York City, in Chelsea? I think I'm getting nervous.
I drove by John's on my way back from FrontRunner's tonight. His yard looks nice. He's bought a bike - his car had a rack on the back. I wonder how often he rides, in the valley I presume.
It's funny, when I get all excited about talking to future roommates, the person I wanted to tell was John. It was him. Not Russ or Amy, but John. Not my parents or Todd or Nichole, but him. Why in the world do I still want to tell him, still think that way. Am I obsessed with him? Is this how someone becomes obsessed with someone else? I'm beginning to wonder about myself. Why do I still feel the way I do after three years? I need to really ask what I am feeling. What are the feelings going on inside of me? Where are they coming from? What is the cause, the motivating thing that causes me to feel this way? Is something else going on and the channel or focus of the whatever lands on John - or an image I have of John, or a history? Frankly, I don't think I like it.
I was quite excited this morning when I got the e-mail from Jason. Jason, Roy, and I have responded. Two more to go. One bathroom. No windows in the living room, or "common room." How odd is it to try to introduce myself via e-mail. I posted what I wrote on my weblog. Jason - don't know much about him. Roy - a former MCC pastor (so I think I'm safe to assume he is gay) now taking his "Anglican dip" before his exams and ordination to be a priest, 6'5" (tall!), slender, 46 years old (I'm not the oldest!), is a night owl and likes the night life. He will be in France for the next month.
This whole experience will probably be nothing like I imagine!
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