7/30/96 - Oops, out of order

[Oops, this entry should've come before the previous one, which I never finished entering anyway. This should explain the chronology of bouncing back and forth between James and Matt.]

[It's been said that, because of the necessity of the closet, lesbians and gay men are denied many of the coming of age rituals which adolescent boys and girls go through. As a result, we tend to act out, again and again, the same fumbling steps to "mature" relationships that many of our straight brethren and sistren got out of their systems at an early age. I don't know if the theory is correct, but a lot of what I went thru in the summer of 1996 sure sounds like an story arc on "Saved By The Bell," if alcohol and sodomy were allowed.]

7/30/96 - 1810 Chapala

I've been thinking about the whole dating dilemma, and I feel like I'm coming to some conclusions:

1. I'm good enough that I don't have to put up with this shit.

This means that if someone doesn't seem to be putting the same energy into pursuing whatever the current...thing is, they get very few chances to get it in gear. I'm perfectly willing (and able) to go the distance, but if it's not reciprocated, then forget it.

It also means setting my standards higher. Matt Cleary has a few serious drawbacks that I've gotten to know in the two nights we've spent together. But, because of his good qualities, and because he's showing he GIVES A DAMN, we're giving him a chance.

James Wicklow, on the other hand, barely has his foot, no, his left little toenail, in the door. The only thing keeping me thinking about him is his spontaneous romanticism. (Kissing me when I ran into him a the corner of Carrillo and Chapala; his attentiveness when we're together in certain situations.) HE IS A BIIIIIIIG FLAKE.

2. I'm not buying into this whole HIV-segregation conspiracy, which I didn't even know existed. James is HIV+, but so might be any Tom, Dick & Harry. It is illogical to deny from consideration anyone (for friendship or romance) who is poz.

I guess conclusion 1 is resonating heavily thru my brain right now. I don't know whence cometh this burst of self-esteem, but (desperate moments aside) life is too short to waste on losers.

Strange how it's becoming an article of faith that Mr. Right (the mythical one) is only findable out of town. I hope that doesn't blind me to what's right under my nose. Or set up false expectations once I move.

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