Return To Civilization

     The dust is starting to settle. The world has not ended. I had a realisation the other day that this is exactly what it’s like for many to come out of the closet for being gay. Friends are sharing stories with me about similar stories where they have had to ‘come out of the closet’ about various aspects of their sexuality to family members who are far less accepting than mine. Although I said that I would be here until Tuesday, it’s time for me to come home and move on with life.  

  

     I talked to my mom the next day and she was “fine”. Everything was fine. I think she really meant it when she said she never wants to talk about it again. Under the rug it goes. My Dad ends each conversation with by stating the same thing but calls back the next night with more questions for me. He asks about the process of how I obtain my clients and how much I make and various aspects of my job. He asked if I was a sex addict. I told him I’m not sure, but I really don’t know a lot about sexual addiction. A lot of people see addiction as when something interferes with your day to day life. My uncle is undeniably an alcoholic, but he is by far the most financially successful member of our family. I don’t engage in unhealthy, destructive behaviours to get laid. 80% of the time I go to the bar, I come home alone. Admittedly some times because I don’t get lucky but most of the time it’s because I don’t care to. When I was in school I would masturbate all the time but at home, alone. My point is I don’t do weird things to feed this addiction.

      Dad keeps referring to me as a hooker. I don’t see myself as a hooker. I view a hooker as those who walk the streets but I recognise that really, it’s all the same. The term doesn’t bother me at all though. My friends and I joke around about it all the time. He doesn’t understand why I’m glamourizing it by calling myself an escort. I don’t know. You’re a driver or a chauffer, you’re a cook or a chef. I’m just going to let him do what he needs to do to get through this. I hate the phone calls though. I hate listening to the pain in his voice. I feel like having them is my end of the bargain.

     I’ve been having trouble sleeping. My brain just keeps going over how incredibly, incredibly stupid I was. If I was travelling with other people, I would have never said that. I would have never compromised their trip like that. So what the hell was I thinking? I don’t know. It’s also the guilt of what I’ve put my parents through that keeps me up. I try to not think about it but when the lights go out at night my thoughts always just go back there. This will pass. I will forgive myself.

      As I’ve mentioned, I have tremendous luck and I always tend to get whatever I want, just never exactly how I wanted. So, I’ve decided that I will make it to Burning Man this year. It will happen. I will have faith and the stars will align for me. This morning I sat down and looked at the ‘I-192 Application for Advance Permission to Enter the United States’. There is a $600 fee to file this application and it must be done 120 days in advance. Burning Man is in 114 days. There are 4 other forms that must accompany the I-192 including a federal criminal back ground check, which will all take time and money. I will not burn this year. But I am not banished from the community. And there are still tons of local events hosted by them. I just won’t get dusty this year. That’s ok. I have other friends who are broken hearted because they can’t afford to go, or their jobs won’t give them time. This is not the end of the world. This is an opportunity for me to practice compersion.