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When I think about my friends, I tend to define them in the way episodes of the show Friends were titled. There is the one who reads too much, the one who works too much, the one who is handy, the one who is always kidding, the one I kissed, the one who moved, the one who ran, the one who made me come out when it wasn’t time, the one who writes, & the one who is always growing up. There are others and they are always defined in this way to me. Then there is me. For whatever reason, I am always the one who cannot have a bad day. I don’t like that about myself most of the time, but I am usually able to just accept it and move on.

Regardless of what my emotional state is, I am never as bad off as my friends. Currently, I am feeling rather lonely and sad — I would love for my 2 closest friends to be around, even if only here and there. However, both of them are having issues of their own. Both of them have more reason to be emotionally distant than I do to be emotionally needy. But this is the pattern of my life. If I am down, someone else is more down. If I feel lost, someone else needs my help finding their way.

I’ll get through it. I’ll be fine in the end. But I won’t have managed with much help from my friends. I know they care… they really do, but they can’t always be there. I hope that this is how I grow. It feels sad to grow without those around to comfort me when I am gloomy. Maybe it is. But I don’t really get a choice most of the time.

I’m not really fishing for comfort on here either. I know you are all supportive. I just needed to share because I can’t get my way right now. My friends don’t have time for me right now (or they want to be left alone or they have other issues going on). I’m not indicating that I blame them for having lives of their own either. My feelings are not their fault. But I am frustrated and those who read this get to deal with it now.

Thanks for listening to me whine.

Image: AI Image (created using Wonder AI)

Featured Image Art: photo of Ashley, John, & Heather

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28 feels old. And it doesn’t help to realize that I am now living each of the days for the 29th time. It is not upsetting, but just interesting.

For my birthday, we went to The Moose’s Tooth for dinner. Grant, David, Jake, & Heather showed up. It was nice to be around people I care about. Craig & Heather came over to my place after dinner. I would like to spend more time with Craig. He is a lot of fun. It was a very low key day… nice. I wish David had been around a little more, but it was still nice.

Featured Image Art: Pola Dwurnik, “Blue and yellow bouquet of foxes” (2022), altered

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I feel like I need a new job, but I am rather enjoying my part-time freedom. I don’t want it to last too long though. I guess I will try to find something soon… and if not full-time then at least another part-time job. More money would certainly be nice for paying bills.

Meanwhile, I have been overly dramatic with my friends lately. I don’t know if I am trying to push them away or what I mean by it all. It has to be frustrating for them though. The biggest problem with keeping a small number of really close friends is that when blow ups happen (and they do), they are bigger and there aren’t necessarily any friends left to talk to about it.

I got batteries for my camera. I will get pics of the wall art. It looks great. I could have saved myself a lot of stress by doing it right the first time (Grant, thanks for getting that in my head all the time).

Featured Image Art: Alexandre-François Desportes, Pheasant and Qual Surprised by a Fox

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So, I have been really quite busy since I returned from my vacation. I have been keeping David Eugene company while he works on moving himself & his landlord, working on my own house, researching some stuff for Mr. Alley (David), and working both jobs. Since they gave me a promotion at Michaels, I have more of a set schedule, but also more hours each week. The money will be nice; I am still adjusting to the time. Plus, David is directly above me, which is fine, but it is weird. Borders is going fine too. I don’t think that I necessarily care more after time off, but I have time to gain perspective on issues I have been thinking about and give myself the time to create a plan. This vacation was no different. I have plans for Borders and I intend to make my section (the office) better than it has been in a long time.

I have been tired. When I have a spare moment, I sleep. I’m really glad I am busier though. Being out in the world more is very good for me. I am looking forward to adding TV night to my calendar again… that is with a couple of people from work. I enjoy spending time with them and it has been too long.

Image: photo of Krista

Featured Image Art: photo of Brian & Grant

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“No man needs a vacation so much as the person who has just had one.”
–Elbert Hubbard

Vacation. It is going pretty well. I have managed to irritate, aggravate, or annoy more people in less time than my previous visit. It feels like an accomplishment. It shouldn’t. I really didn’t mean to be the source of any problems. I’ve enjoyed seeing everyone. However, being stuck at my parents’ finally got to me. It all started when I arrived on Tuesday.

I left Anchorage after a very long day Monday. I had worked at Borders from 7-3:30 and at Michaels from 5-10. The flight was to leave at 12:30, but of course I was at the airport by 10:45. It was far too early, but I didn’t want to fall asleep until I was on the plane. And we had a full flight, of course. I slept the entire way to Seattle. The layover was too short to sleep there. I slept on the way to Denver. I was fairly awake, but cranky in Denver. I ate nachos, contemplated changing, and generally didn’t want to be there. I feared that I would not be able to sleep on the way from Denver to Tulsa, but luckily, I dozed off well, even though I was sitting between two people.

When I arrived, it was nice to have Brad waiting for me at the airport. We gathered my bags and made a couple stops. I wanted to go by Barnes & Noble and Hot Topic (my barbell in my tongue was stripped). After that, I was really sleepy and slept on the hour trip to Stillwater. It was nice to hang out with Brad. We got in, went to pick up Conner (my nephew), and came back to my parents’ house. It was pretty late and there wasn’t much left to do. So, I slept. And well.

Wednesday & Thursday were both spent stuck at my parents’ house. I liked the people there: Dad, Conner, & Jason, but I was feeling rather trapped. I just wanted to be able to drive away for a little while, but I couldn’t. Mom’s brakes had gone out, so her car was not drivable. I spent most of Friday sleeping. My reunion registration was at 5 and mom arrived in time for me to borrow my grandpa’s car (which she had been driving all week) and get in to register. My brother arrived just as I did, which was an odd coincidence. We talked to Andrea for a bit and then drove around until we needed to be at Mexico Joe’s at 8 for the reunion. First, we stopped at Wal-Mart to get me a shirt.

My class reunion was weird — good weird. I was a bit of a loner in school. I knew everyone and I am sure they all knew me, but I wasn’t exactly friends with them. I have always felt connected to these people though. I know that I will be the one who attends the reunions everytime and grows to be more fond of these people as the years go by. And why didn’t I take the time to get to know them back then? Of course, the same ones who annoyed me in high school annoyed me at the reunion. And everyone had kids… or so it seemed. Overall, it was a good experience. I talked to only a few people, but really felt like I was part of a group… one I couldn’t get kicked out of, even if they didn’t really care for me. That was oddly comforting. What made the whole thing even better is having family there. Since Brent & I were in the same class — and therefore graduated together — he and Laurisa were there for me to hang out with. They’ve always been the types that have a lot more casual friends, whereas I always had a few very close friends. Speaking of, Travis was there. Unfortunately, a family emergency kept him from attending the family fun day on Saturday.

The family fun day was interesting. I initially didn’t want to go, but Brent insisted. It was fun to see all the kids. And it was fun to spend time with my neices, KC & Avery. They are a lot of fun to be around. What I will always remember is that I was poorly dressed, due to the mud at my parents’ house. Ick.

Sadly, we’ve already lost 4 classmates and 2 teachers. I don’t know the details of all of the deaths, but it really made me stop and think. 4 out of 402 is really quite a lot. I only really knew 1 of the students and 1 of the teachers.

Thank you David & Heather for letting me complain to you.

Updates: updated brian’s body: an exploration; updated a few links; removed a few images from Threadless Shirts page.
Activities: hung out with Mom & Dad; drove to Brent & Laurisa’s with Annie
Food: potato wedges & ketchup, split pea soup, toast with olive oil spread, potato salad, tortilla chips, Krispy Kreme mini crullers, 3+ Diet Cokes, 3 bottles of white and/or green tea. (it sounds like a lot, but I had just a little of all of this stuff)

Images: photo of Bradley, Brian, & Brent; Stillwater High School Pioneer logo

Featured Image Art: vintage map of Oklahoma

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A lot of people have supported me very strongly in my writing. It would probably be impossible to list everyone and thank them all individually, but I can still try.

Dearest Jennie,

You and I are abandoned ships, floating in this sea independently, not being able to ride the currents together. I am glad to have reconnected with you. You are an incredible joy to talk to, even in this crazy online world. I appreciate your support on my goals. I am famously horrible at following through with these things, but you don’t seem to notice, nudging me slightly to do what I need to do. Thank you.

Someday, we may both find ourselves tied up in the same harbor, finally together. But I’m not certain of that. Perhaps we were only meant to meet and be friends from afar, one chance encounter and then a series of rediscoveries. Regardless of the universe’s plans, I look forward to knowing you throughout this life.

Many hugs, my little lapin,
Brian

Mom,

Okay, I hear you. I need to write. Don’t get me wrong, I really do appreciate the reminders that someone likes my writing. For a long time, I thought you only said these things out of motherly obligation. I am beginning to switch that thought over. It seems that someone who reads as much as you do wouldn’t encourage me to fail. You must really think I have a talent for this. Thank you for that faith. It is very important to me to know that you want me to succeed — and that you think I can.

Don’t stop encouraging me. I sometimes forget what my goals have been. Remind me as often as it seems necessary. You keep me focused on my task.

I love you,
Brian

Oh, Travis,

You are all too often the little voice in my head. I hate that about you and I love that about you. I’m always saying to myself “don’t be sorry, change your actions,” a useful reminder and life lesson. More often than that, I keep remembering that I could have written a book by now, another helpful reminder from you. You nag me to get things done. I really do appreciate that.

Thanks,
Brian

“Meems”

How odd that I would want to thank you for encouraging me to write. You didn’t think there would be enough money in it to justify it as a career. I know you didn’t mean it to be hurtful, but sometimes it was. It felt like you were reserving some of your approval until you could see success in this goal. What I took away from this, however, was a strong desire to prove you wrong. I haven’t yet, but someday I hope to still. To me, it now seems that your wariness of writing as a profession was a type of encouragement. Thank you.

Brian

{I think I will break this part up into a couple more parts. I’d like to thank many others, but will stop for now.}

Featured Image Art: AI Image (created using Wonder AI)

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27.7

Through the dirty pane of glass
I see the lingering snow —
an ever shrinking mass of white.
It’s April and I wonder how much
longer I will be alone.
My head has hurt for a week now
and I can barely stay calm in a job
that seems to have become a prison.

I am calm. I am resolved.
The love is enough; the love
from my family of new friends
(fellow refugees, struggling to
find themselves)
They soothe me and I feel
less angry about failure.

The snow will stick
for a few more weeks.
The grass is displacing patches
here and there — this guest
is no longer welcome.

I am standing here
at my kitchen door,
ready to take to the air;
ready to break free and
start this next phase.
I inhale deeply,
but I do not move.

4.11.2007

Thoughts to people I’ve had on my mind lately. I don’t expect these people to read this, but I wanted my thoughts out there. I also don’t want anyone to feel left out. I have a lot of people in my life and a lot of love to give. Don’t take it personally if I didn’t mention you.

David: You know what I think about you and how I wish you could be content. I am so pained by the hurt you go through, as if I have somehow become an extension of you — an additional limb you don’t really want to deal with. I don’t mean to care so strongly, but I’m not sure I can reverse and love you less. You are a good person who deserves all the things you want, even if you sometimes want them too much. I want to stare into your face for hours. It soothes me and is familiar; you make me feel at home.

Bradley: You’ve endured such pain. I am sorry you’ve had to go through such a terrible time. You are a great person and I know that wherever your life takes you, good things are possible. I hope you realize the blessings in your life and cherish them.

Heather: You put up with too much from me (you put up with too much from everybody). I appreciate your concern about me and know that you really do care. That means a lot. I have tried to distance myself from you a little lately and I am sorry if it has seemed like rejection. It isn’t. I still care about you as much as always, but feel like we needed a bit of a break. I don’t think that anymore. I have been so lucky to have you as a friend.

Grant: I am worried that we have failed to connect recently. I have really tried to open up to you as a friend, but held back a little. I find it difficult to relate to men who aren’t gay, which is horrible of me. I feel like I am disappointing you at work and I hate it. Working for you is the only reason I am still at the store. I want to work for/with you, not only because you are a great guy to be around, but also because you know how to manage a store.

Jacci: You have so much to give. I wish I could just accept it and allow you into my life more. I don’t know if I am scared of something or what, but I just can’t seem to let my guard down around you. I am trying.

Mom: I feel like my journey has caused unnecessary stress for you. I know you don’t understand why I needed to be in Alaska — I don’t really either, but the last thing I ever wanted was to be further away from you. You are one of my closest friends and I wish I could be more open with you. I also worry about you a great deal. I wish I could see you every single day.

People I miss (in no particular order): Jess C, Jess F, Justin, Becky, Meghan, Jill, Jeff, Marla, Serenity, The Kim, Dad, Lori, Ed, Sharon, Stan, G, Annie, Laurisa, Samantha, Kendra, Mimi, Valeri, JoBeth, Ray, Opie, Geri, Jerry, Travis, Conner, Tim, Kathy, Mary C, Mary, Ann, Mom, JD, Jason, Jennie, Elisabeth, Emily, Matt A, Ken, Shauna, Gordon, KC, John H, James, Debbie, Molly, Avery, May, Riley, Jason M, Brent, Bryce, Cara, Paul, Patrick, David E, David M

I know that frustration will only cause me more problems and I can’t live with it. I have to move on and become who I am right now. Life is far too short to accept pain. Having almost literally counted my blessings, it seems that I must realize how lucky I am. And I do know that. I hope all of this means I am moving forward.

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If there was ever going to be a subject that frightened those around me, this is it. I don’t mean to alarm those who have put so much trust in me — and indeed I am nothing if not loyal. However, after a year and a half working for Borders, I still feel like I am working for the other side — for Barnes & Noble. I’m not sure why I have yet to feel at home with the company I am now working for. Perhaps it is the many hours I put in at B&N that made it feel like my life.

I started working at Barnes & Noble in August 1998. I had just turned 19 and was full of ideas about how the world should work. During my interview, I told Marla that I would never quit unless I intended to move. I worked part time for some time, bouncing around from café to music to books. The work was straightforward enough, but a certain elitism came with working in a bookstore that I rather enjoyed. I also found my coworkers to be extremely tolerant of others, which I attribute to being more educated and well read than the average retail person.

After a couple years, I took a full-time position as “New Release Lead.” I was in charge of the front of store and the best sellers. After that position, as well as a temporary stint as “Newsstand Lead,” I became the “Gift Lead.” That was the position I used to really prove my value to the company. I excelled in merchandising the gifts & stationery section, increasing our stores sales dramatically in a very short amount of time. Within a few short months, I interviewed and was offered a position as Music Manager.

I loved managing the music department and I did it well. I had gained such a vast amount of product knowledge and was able to maintain the product so well that we almost never had shrink problems, and when we did there would be an obvious reason behind it. Everything was going pretty well there.

Problems really started when John passed away in 2004. He was my direct supervisor and close friend, as can happen when you work with someone for nearly 6 years. Halfway through a shift one day, he left, drove himself to the hospital, where he slipped into a coma and died several days later. His liver had failed, toxifying his entire body. I was devastated and the usual places to turn provided no comfort, as they too were mourning. I turned to Irene, a manager at our store whose popularity was never very high, which was no secret. That decision seemed to leave a mark on my relationships with both Brandy & Marla. But Marla wasn’t blameless in this. Her refusal to get a grief counselor for the store angered me so greatly that I thought about leaving the store. I didn’t.

Marla & I were not really getting along. Subconsciously, I was probably working to sabotoge her, while she tried to find any reason to find fault with the work I was doing. Our feud was evident throughout the store, even as we maintained the appearance of friendship. And we were starting to get better too; we were nearly getting along. That is when the worst thing happened that could have ever happened. On the anniversary of John’s death (give or take a day), JoBeth passed away. From the day the store opened, JoBeth had been the “store mom.” She was our “Head Cashier” and worked hard to make sure everyone was kind towards everyone else. She was one of the happiest people I’ve known, and one of the sassiest. She was a joy.

JoBeth had fought cancer for over a year and it was well known that she didn’t have much longer. She died at home, surrounded by her family and her dolls. It was very sad, but I took comfort in knowing she would no longer be suffering, as she had for so long. But once again, the store mourned alone. I didn’t know how to properly handle this loss and knew that it would be difficult to do so without help. I had just lost a grandmother at the end of 2000, the other in 2002, John in 2004, and now JoBeth in 2005. That is a lot of people to lose so close together. But it didn’t matter. Marla assumed that we could all handle it ourselves.

That was the beginning of the end. I could not have been more furious with Marla and she had to know it. She couldn’t have been more frustrated with me. I knew it. The tension between us was now so obvious that people could pinpoint us as the problem, but I no longer cared. In retrospect, although I feel that I was right about obtaining professional help, I am sure I was looking for someone to project blame on. I didn’t deal well with the whole situation and was sleeping a lot, as I was very depressed. That summer, I often cried myself to sleep for what seemed like no reason.

The third time I was late that summer, I had a feeling Marla would try to get rid of me… and I was really fed up. I had just returned from a small vacation and was leaving on another in a couple days. I decided I would use that time to look for a job in Dallas. At the end of my shift, before counting down my till, I gave my notice to Valeri, my manager at that point. However, while counting my money, Marla came in and let me go.

I don’t know how I feel about it, even now. I don’t think she had proper justification for firing me. It seemed a stretch after working there for 7 years, going most of them without even the most minor disciplinary action needing to be taken. Perhaps, it didn’t ever dawn on her that my problems stemmed from the loss of 2 coworkers in our store. Perhaps I could have worked through my issues more constructively if I had the proper channels to do so. Maybe not. And it is entirely possible that I was offered in order to save her job, as the store was having some major issues.

Whatever the reasons, regardless of anyone’s feelings, I felt betrayed. I didn’t want to leave my home — in fact, I still want to be there. Less than 2 months after working at B&N, I moved to Alaska. Up here, I found my job with Borders and started my new family. But it doesn’t feel right; it may never feel right. I invested too much of my life — I grew up with B&N. And now, I feel like I am working Borders from the perspective of a Barnes & Noble employee — like I am just waiting for a phone call to return to the place I really belong. But I think this may be where I belong now.

I do miss my life.

Images: unknown photo of man with book; Jane Human, Sunflower 06

Featured Image Art: photo by Eberhard Grossgastei (via Unsplash)

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I picked Heather up from the airport last night. Of course, I went to the wrong terminal, but I eventually got her. I’m so glad she is back. Welcome home, Heather! Before that I went to Gallo’s for our usual Monday night fun. It was just Grant & James, but it was great. I really enjoy talking to Grant about just about everything; I wish I could talk to people when others are around.

Featured Image Art: photo of Heather

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Cold Betrayal
on being stranded in Alaska

January had been full of
animal dinners and parties
when sadness was setting in
and Lori left suddenly after
and exchange of anger-charged words

I was lost during those cold weeks
that followed and couldn’t keep up
Life rushed by and stood still

I know about the carefully discarded
cigarette butts in bottles of soda
and the mornings of coffee and romance
empty mornings and safe

I had days when I didn’t eat
that spring and the cheap dinners
of tasteless noodles seemed
heavenly after

The pain doesn’t last and Justin
stayed with me until I wasn’t unhappy
anymore which was a long time
Then he went home to his life and
left me to forge my new life from
this strange place

Sometimes I want to forget Lori’s face
but I keep getting it stuck in my head
I had a dream with hundreds of hens
flocking around me and
they all screamed Lori’s name
and I realized that I still love her

despite not being able to hold on enough
to keep her near me
I am floating above this frozen place
this city of refugees lumped together
from many corners of other places

I don’t care anymore about knowing about the
coffee and the cigarettes and the novels
it doesn’t matter that people are happy when
I can’t decide what would make me happy
but I wish the hens would stop reminding me

Brian Fuchs 2 April 2007

I don’t know where I intended to go with this. It feels unfinished somehow. Maybe such emotional things are more difficult to write about than trivial bits of life. I don’t really know. I do know that this wouldn’t even have been written if it hadn’t been for Travis, who kindly reminded me that a writer writes… everday. Thank you, Travis.

It is sometimes hard for me to keep up with anything routine. I am just wired to forget, but I really appreciate anyone who gives me new material, reminds me to write, or inquires about my writing. It is one of the important things in my life and knowing others care is a big part of keeping with it. I have been less successful with it in the past, but I do intend to keep up here. With that said, anyone who reads should feel free to nag me endlessly if it seems I am not keeping up with this.

If Lori reads this (or any of Lori’s peeps), I hope it is understood that I don’t harbor any hard feelings. I was thinking about her today, as it is her birthday and remembered the feeling of her not being around when it was still new for me. I wish Lori the best and hope she has a great birthday today.

Featured Image Art: Artem Misyuk, Illustrations to the collection of poems by Borovets A (6)

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I was a jerk to David tonight. I was really upset that I wasn’t nice and cried on my way home from his house. I feel a little silly and pathetic. I hope he is okay.

 

It is 3:51 a.m. on Monday. I can’t sleep! I am so hyper and it makes no sense. I have to go pick up Heather tomorrow night and I will be so exhausted when I go. BLAST.

Featured Image Art: AI Image (created using Wonder AI)

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“it is difficult to think of you without me in the sentence”

Why does it seem that the people with the biggest hearts are the ones who have those hearts trampled the most often? This isn’t about me. It could be; I have often had people in my life who take advantage of my good nature — or rather, who I have allowed to take advantage of me. I’m not saying these people have been necessarily malicious or unkind, but that I have encouraged them to get what they need from our time together and then leave.

This is about my friend David Eugene. If you know nothing else, know that he is a guy who will pull through when you need him, but he may not be around all the time. He is generous to a fault, often taking on so many projects that there is no way to finish them all in time. David Eugene sacrifices his time and his happiness to make sure everyone else’s needs are met. It is almost a sickness how much he takes on in his life.

There is something about David Eugene that attracts others to him, a certain je ne c’est quoi that keeps people interested in everything he does. This has resulted in a number of obsessed people fauning all over David Eugene, making inappropriate gestures and comments. I will admit that I have even been infatuated with him. He has such a strong natural charisma. I wanted to be around him so bad that it kept me up some nights.

Such intense fascinations seem to have left David Eugene alone… having no lasting friendships and only the memory of long-term relationships. But it seems that he does everything right. He does not seem directly responsible for this problem. Rather, the endless people throwing themselves at him seems to be a symptom of an intangible that only he has. Every few weeks, David Eugene meets someone new. Often, he is very interested in them and they seem equally interested in him. This initial getting to know one another period is both intense and wonderful. David Eugene starts to see a wedding, a home, dogs, and the life he has always wanted. The guy of the moment seems to share this vision — saying everything they know David Eugene wants to hear.

It doesn’t last. Soon, this new guy moves on, scared away by the seriousness of this plan. David Eugene is left alone — again. How can it be fair that such an amazing person could be used and discarded? Why do people treat the most generous of us like trash? And more importantly, how can this cycle be broken?

I feel awful for him, but I don’t know how I can help David Eugene. Perhaps, it isn’t something I can fix. Perhaps, it isn’t something I should try to fix. It hurts me to know that he is in pain and I cannot help him. I hope he knows that he has at least one friend who is still here for the long-term, who doesn’t expect any more from him than he can give. I hope David Eugene finds happiness.

Here are some things I have written about longing, obsession, friendship:

Preston’s Hold

for Johnny

The fear. Consuming fear and self-denial.
A dream of love – a school-boy fantasy –
crushed by the vise of injustice for self, by
society. I can’t give myself to you if you hide.

Can two people know each other in darkness?
Can a heart survive the cruel coldness
of lonliness? Kiss me (I know it won’t happen)
Dream of me – of us. Kill the fear of damnation.

It is over and you are gone. I always held on
too loosely, never tried hard enough. I needed
your hands, your touch, your morning voice –
soft and honest. I needed plans, and you…

Kiss me again, this time tenderly, and tell me
it is all okay – love me from wherever you are.
More importantly, be my friend – remind me
of who I wanted and who I wanted to be.

Need is dangerous – I still feel you.

Brian Fuchs 6.5.1999

twenty-four

Will this winter chill lift from my heart and allow me to find love? In the ice covered and mad city I can’t see anyone worth knowing, worth loving. I need my knight. This curse is too much.

Brian Fuchs 1.5.2001

Jerry pt 1

My heart still hurts and I still love you, my friend.
I don’t understand why you ran away. I never will.
Your boyfriend’s hold was too much;
his approval was too important to you.
So, you left.

You left me.

My arms will still be open, my home yours,
if you ever need it — need me.
My life has a space reserved for you,
beautiful friend.

Brian Fuchs 7.1.2005

27 March 2007

Images: art by Charley Harper

Featured Image Art: photo of David

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3+17+1997=10 or “Relax a little; one of your most celebrated nervous tics will be your undoing.” -Frank O’Hara

This might mean nothing to anyone but me, but it felt important to share it. Today, St Patrick’s Day, 2007, marks the 10th anniversary of me coming out to my friends as gay. It has been quite a journey, but this is an account of what happened before. To understand the full extent of where I am, it is important to first understand where I was. This poem by Frank O’Hara expresses it in ways I couldn’t.

February

The scene is the same,
and though I try to imagine
plinking starry guitars,

and while I spend my
time listening to a foreign
contralto sing the truth,

the earth is everywhere,
brown and aching. At first
it seemed that this life

would be different: born
again in someone else’s
arms, after seasons of childhood

and error and defense.
I thought freshly and tried
to change the color of my

habit. New metrics would be
mine in this excess of
love! but I was a braggart

to hope so. My old hurts
kept attacking me at odd
moments, after too many

songs, on public conveyances,
in the blue light of bars. Ah!
I cried, do not blame me,

save your temper for the
others! and at the same instant
in the same breath cried,

break me! I dare you, for
which of us am I? you will
break yourself! And this

became only too true, the
worst of all possible vistas,
my lone dark land.

–Frank O’Hara

That was me. It still is from time to time, wondering how my life is really different and hoping that I have really changed — grown. I was lost. I had desperately tried to force myself into someone I am not, agrily trying to “not be gay.”

The feeling that I was different started as early as 5 or 6. I didn’t know how, but I felt like there was something about me that wasn’t “normal.” What’s more, as a young child, I knew that there were things I needed to hide from my parents — things they wouldn’t understand. I don’t know how we come to these conclusions. My first crush on a boy happened in 4th grade, but I didn’t think much of it.

I remember a number of times during church activities, specifically Bible Bowl, when I would drift off into my own world of introspection, wondering how much love I would find in these people if they knew this awful truth about me. I pretended to have crushes, marking my papers with the most obvious name, hoping to be caught pining for one of my teammates. I quickly became outspoken over my disdain for the public education system’s willingness to teach homosexuality as acceptable. I was turning on myself and was only 14.

The one thing I took away from that part of my life was self-loathing. And I could have ended up with some great experiences and memories, but the pain of being something you don’t want to be was very difficult to deal with.

A couple years later, I found myself washing dishes daily at my first job. I had gotten in through a series of somewhat unusual events, but was enjoying it greatly. I had started to realize that I would have to face this part of myself. I couldn’t hide behind hatred any longer, but I was terrified at what that would mean.

The climate of the world for gays was very different in 1995 & 1996. From my teenaged perspective, it seemed like the dark ages. I didn’t want to indetify with them. There were no gay characters on television, no role models. If I were to accept being gay as who I actually am, I felt that I would be giving up; giving in to what I had been taught to believe is wrong. Furthermore, I was saying to the world that I accepted that I would have no place to fit in; no safe place to run to when life became too much.

Let me back up for just a second. I don’t actually remember my parents (or their parents) having ever spoken about the issue of homosexuality. I never had reason to believe they had thought about it at all. Neither do I recall any lessons in church concerning it. I remember lessons on love and compassion, but never about how wrong gays were. My lessons on this subject were from specific people, friends, who had “moral” objections to certain “lifestyle choices.” I didn’t want to be anything that would upset these people.

I was feeling rather exhausted about the whole issue and was no longer doing well in school. I spent my days worrying about turning into this pariah I didn’t want to be, all the while sitting in the car with my friends, or over at their house, a little removed from the group… from the situation. I was starting to feel like I was enormous, trapsing around people’s houses, hopind desperately to blend in and not be noticed, but failing. I started to discuss issues with my coworker and friend, hoping to find wisdom in her words. It turned out to not be so easy.

In June 1996, I made one of the weirdest mistakes of my life. I went on a class trip to France for 2 weeks. The teacher going with us was unable to attend at the last minute, due to a medical emergency, and I was left with a group of students, all a year older than me, who wouldn’t even talk to me or include me in their group… and the teacher wouldn’t be there. My 2 weeks in France would basically be on my own. And so they were. I befriended a few people from a group from Idaho, but basically did my own thing. As long as I was on the bus when I was supposed to be, nobody seemed to take much notice.

Everything was going great, until a rainy day in Paris. There wasn’t much we could go do that evening, but the guys I was sharing a room with went to hang out with the girls, so I was alone… with my thoughts… and having been in France for a few days, the newness having worn off, I was thinking about the same things that kept me sad and angry at home. That night I accepted it. I didn’t like it, but I realized that I couldn’t be anyone but who I am. The rest of the trip was very hard; I barely enjoyed myself. I would hang out with the bus driver, Kamal, or our tour guide, Arnaud, at almost every stop. I didn’t feel like I should be there anymore.

My biggest regret about that trip is not hiding my bitterness when I returned home. My family and friends were waiting at the gate to greet me; I was so happy to see them. But I was difficult and cranky and spoiled the mood for everyone.

I spent most of my senior year trying to convice people I was straight. But a huge weight had been lifted. The distraction that made the previous year so hard was gone, but I would eventually need to tell someone else.

Travis, one of my two best friends, had spent spring break in Mexico (I think), leaving myself and JD to spend a fun filled week of working more hours at our jobs. We did want to do something though, so we spent the week at my uncle’s cabin just outside of town. Travis returned that weekend and we all hung out on Sunday. I was a little down; Travis could tell. I drove home, talking to Travis on the CB (yes, it’s true) the entire way. He had followed me and pulled in behind me at my house. He and I talked about things. I wasn’t really ready to tell him everything, but I told him that I could never see myself marrying a woman and having kids with her. If felt like enough for that moment. He was very comforting, much more so than most friends. He told me that JD had asked if Travis thought I was gay. Travis laughed it off as a silly notion. I felt extremely exposed.

The next day was my favorite holiday of the year, St. Patrick’s Day. I don’t know why I love it, but I do. The first thing I did in my first class was to write a letter, expressing to both Travis & JD how I felt and about who I am. I told them of the many days, wanting to no longer live. I told them how painful it had been to let them down. And I told them that I am gay. I couldn’t face them, knowing that I was losing my two best friends.

I had an eye appointment and then work after school. I was almost finished at work when Travis & JD showed up. I tried to avoid them, but they seemed angry. I just walked out to the parking lot, letting them follow me. I intended to go home and forget the day had ever happened. But my car was missing. Defeated, I got into Travis’ car. We drove around a little; they told me they had gotten permission from my mom to keep me away all night. They told me that they didn’t care that I am gay, but they were angry that I had been so depressed and didn’t tell them.

Somehow, we ended up at Red Lobster, where they continued to assure me that they still loved me. It felt nice, but was painful at the same time. We drove around for a long time, talking (I was crying). I think I stayed at Travis’ that night. And that was it. It was done. I didn’t have to hide myself anymore. The last few months we lived in Stillwater were the happiest as a teenager that I can remember. Life had been so painful for me for so long.

A month later, Ellen Degeneres came out, bursting the doors wide open for gay men and women everywhere. It felt good to be a part of something from the begining. It still does.

I didn’t tell my family for a long time after this, but I will save that for another time. It deserves the same attention.

Today, I am very happy with who I am. It feels so good to be me and I am glad I came out when I did. I hope that there is a day when being gay doesn’t break children into secrecy. I hope that day comes soon.

St Patrick’s Moon

St Patrick’s moon shone
gently on us as we left
Texas, back to our lives.
The brief stays seem sad
and this was the last visit
with all of us single.

St Patrick’s moon shone
on the new baby — born
to make some forget
the tragedy its birthday
marked — the sadness of
this anniversary of death.

St Patrick’s moon shone
through the just-cracked blinds
on Laurisa’s face — the new
life growing within her body.
More family, more joy,
more love to make us forget.

St Patrick’s moon shone
through the rear window of
JD’s car onto my face as
I smiled. My life seems
to be getting closer to real.
I laughed a little because
life can be so wonderful.

Brian Fuchs (3.17.2003)

17 March 2007

Images: photo of Frank O’Hara; illustration of Celtic knot shamrock; photo of Brian; photo of Brian & JD

Featured Image Art: photo of Brian in Red River, NM

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Brrr…

Today felt warm, which bothered me. It was only 19°. It has been very cold. My fingers feel numb after running to my car & back inside most mornings and the wind has just brought more arctic air than I remember from all of last winter. The gale blows through the small spaces in my north facing door, making it nearly impossible to keep my places warm. It seems too big now, vaulted ceilings no longer holding the aethetic they did over the summer. During those warmer days, I would open up windows throughout the house and enjoy the 65° air gently moving through. Nature was welcome into my home. It has overstayed.

I purchased two space heaters — an attempt to keep the temperature up, as the floor radiators just aren’t enough. It is working out fine, but I am told that my place is still too cold and my friends don’t take their coats off, leaving after only a few minutes. They don’t want to be here. Under those conditions, neither do I. I have acclimated to this environment and rarely feel chilly anymore, but a home without visitors is depressing. I think I should like to find a new place next summer, before the mercury drops. I think I am stuck for now though. Not only do I feel an obligation to my family (my aunt & uncle own my duplex), but I promised myself last year to not move during the winter again.

Wall To Wall Sadness:

Jess leaves for Arizona on Monday. I had promised her not to blog about her, but I want the world to know that I will miss her. I will miss her opinions. I will miss her “rawr!” I will miss her NBC peacock t-shirt. I will miss her advice, even when I don’t want it. I will miss her red hair. I will miss her dancing. I will miss our secret long-nosed greeting. I will miss her bitterness. I will miss her caring. I will miss her coaxing me to do things when I don’t know I really want to do things. I will miss her advice when I really need it. I will miss her laugh. I will miss her ruminating. I will miss her concern for Heather. I will miss her point, pause, “yes.” I will miss her long skirts. I will miss her beautiful face. I will miss the way she knows how utterly important she is. Jess, I love you and will miss you.

Featured Image Art: photo of Jess

Featured Image Art: Aksel Waldemar Johannessen, “Skiläufer in verschneiter Landschaft”

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We’re Off To See The Blizzard

I ended my trip home by spending a few hours with Becky. I loved seeing her and was glad to finally reconnect. It had been far too long since we’d had a chance to hang out. I wish I could be around her all the time. She is so much fun.

The rest of Sunday was spent on a plane. 9 hours in the same seat… it isn’t fun. I was seated next to a woman who just loved to talk and I tried to not accidentally indicate that I may want to talk to her. It was a largely successful effort and I was able to spend my trip in silence. I did read My Fine Feathered Friend, which I had purchased in Stillwater for 20¢. I enjoyed it and was glad I didn’t pay cover price for it. I will most likely read it again and again, but it was too short.

When I arrived in Anchorage, it was very late… after midnight. Heather had arrived early to pick me up at 11:30, when the plane was suppose to land. I felt bad that she had to wait, but I couldn’t have known ahead of time. She helped me get my stuff into her car. I detected a bit of congestion starting, but I assumed it was a symptom of being on the plane for as long as I was. On the short drive home, I enjoyed the view of the week-old blanket of snow covering the city. It was January cold, but I felt warm to be at home.

How strange, I remarked, that this place feels like home. Heather agreed. She helped get my stuff into the house and hung out for a little bit. We both decided it was time for bed and she left. I was scheduled to be at work at 6:00 a.m.

a sick body is a prison

I woke up Monday morning very early. It was 5:00 and I couldn’t talk. I could barely breathe. The tickle from the night before was now a full-blown illness. I debated a little, waited until 6:00, & called the store. Work was not going to happen… not until I had a little medicine. I pretty much felt crappy all day. I missed the luncheon for Grant, which sucks. I missed work and getting payroll done correctly, which I am just now paying for.

I returned to work on Tuesday. I didn’t quite feel 100%, but wasn’t quite sick either. Tuesday was great, Wednesday was good. I was sleeping a lot, which was expected. I hadn’t had to do anything for 2 weeks. Thursday hit me like a ton of bricks. I was completely congested again. My head hurt and I could barely think correctly. I spent the entire day at work trying to stay motivated and awake. As soon as I got home, I crashed.

After a few hours I woke up, still feeling like poo and lethargic. I showered, which helped a bit. Heather called at 9:00 p.m. about the movie plans. I had totally forgotten, but agreed to go. I was a bit cranky. The movie, The Film Is Not Yet Rated, was amazing. Shocking, really. I recommend it.

Today, Friday, has been just as bad. I feel horrible. I did get to the store for some DayQuil & NyQuil. I hope they help. I can’t miss work… I have too much to do.

Okay, I will stop complaining now. 😉

I love snow.

Image: Cuno Amiet, “Baum in Winterlandschaft”

Featured Image Art: Alexej Kondratjewitsch, “Sawrassow”