I am a Christian. I am a gay man. Here is chronicle of my symbolic journey west, toward adventure, challenge, mystery and ultimately peace.

Wednesday, December 27, 2006

Thinkin' Too Much

I hear this from my closest friends: "You're thinkin' too much." I do have the ability to slice and dice my thoughts and feelings into oblivion. Like those goofy Magic Bullet contraptions from the world of 30-minute infomercials, I take a simple idea in my head and pulverize it beyond recognition. I've been doing that a lot lately; thinking and analyzing and pondering thoughts until I twist myself into a nearly paralyzed state of mind.

I've been looking into my past; reminiscing about my past attractions. Or more accurately put, lack thereof. I know I've always found men more physically satisfying than women. When my mom would bring home the Sears catalog, I would always fast forward through the many pages of women in their personal items to find the much smaller section of men with strong chinlines modeling the best Sears had to offer. I even remember asking my parents for permission to be on my own at the store. They probably thought I was looking at toys, but I was really in the men's department checking out the boxes of underwear and the beautiful men gracing the packages. (Geez, this is embarrassing, isn't it?)

But...I don't recall many--or any--real live guys from my younger years with whom I desired a relationship. There was my neighbor Doug, who was a few years older than me and far more built than I ever have been. Thinking back, he was gorgeous. Sometimes our parents would take us swimming. He was beautiful. But was I ever in love with Doug? Did I want a relationship with him? Not really. But did he interest me more than my neighbor on the other side, Kim? Yep. Without question.

Why? Why didn't I feel "those" types of feelings when I was younger? I have always found men more physically attractive than women. But that hasn't always translated into emotional or spiritual or even sexual desire to be close to men. Maybe I just enjoy pictures of men, but not so much men themselves. Or maybe I'm still denying some things? Or perhaps the right guy hasn't come along yet? Or the right woman? I've held the hands of a few men, and my heart went flutter, flutter. Why? Wouldn't a woman's hand feel just as nice? I honestly wouldn't know. Perhaps being alone isn't so bad?

Yep, here we go...the Magic Bullet is at it again. And I am what is being ripped apart inside that little plastic dome.

3 comments:

Rob Bittner said...

I can totally sympathize. I took many trips to Sears only to end up in the underwear section of the men's department (I can't believe I just admitted that either). But seriously I do understand your Magic Bullet thought patterns. I over-analyze everything (something I blame my mother's side of the family for) and often find myself in a more depressing situation later on. Anyway, I don't know where this is going. Just thought I'd say, you're not alone on this one. Thanks for the blog, I just found it the other day and I like your style.

daveincleveland said...

oh dear boy how i can relate to everything you said here.....underware packs are the best.hehehe........

Robert W. White said...

I was always too shy to even look at the underwear. It was head down, keep walking, pretend like I don't want to look. Even when I needed to shop for underwear.. I couldn't look at the packages (pun intended? your choice), and when I tried, I'm sure my face turned bright red. And here I thought I was the only one who skipped to the menswear pages of the catalogues!

I can certainly relate to the feelings from your younger years. I've often looked back, and I too recall thinking some of the boys were attractive in some form or another, but I don't think I ever felt more than a "you're nice to look at" and maybe an "I wish I looked like that"... *shrug*