Permanence

Permanence. The final step in evolution. Settling in your new world after the sudden disturbing changes in your previous world. It's like being thrown underwater against your will. Upon the first instance, you are panicking, finding a way to breathe. You try to scream as the water begins to rise to the ceiling. You take one final breath as the water meets the ceiling. You go underwater and realize that you can breathe. You are going to be okay.

For the past two years, I was living under this mentality: believing that my world involved having a guy by the name of Jeff to help supply the oxygen. Yet, so far this year, the water in our romantic relationship began to enter the room, forcing me to find a new way to survive. Up until recently, I discovered that life can still continue. I can still breathe, it will take getting used to this new environment; but, I know that I will be able to survive.

However sometimes, we aren't placed under pressure to change. We aren't placed in heat or pressure to turn into something beautiful. Sometimes the permanence can take place over time. Something that I had thought was possible with Jeff. I found this out by going to my first gay wedding. As the two brides exchanged their vows, I could not help but think about how life may not get better or worse for them, they know that they at least have each other to help them through the hard times.

While I was there, I began to look into the future and picturing Jeff and his boyfriend's wedding. Understanding that if I am going to be his friend still, I would have to endure this with him. I began to ask myself if I am actually strong enough to deal with watching my friend make this same decision. Permanence can be changed sometimes; however, it will be the most painful change you can make. Not only because you are going back to your old life, but you have to rip yourself from the changes that were made in your system.

I returned back to the scene of the crime last night. The place where I met Robert for the first time. Numbers. Except this time, I had brought my lesbian friend Sam along. At first it was boring as hell, making conversation with each other, telling stories about how much we hate our boss while drinking blueberry Vodkas and Charger shots (my first liquor drink in a year). The night was dragging on and I was really starting to get annoyed. Annoyed by all the older guys hitting on me, annoyed by how the DJ in one of the rooms needed to go back to her senior home, annoyed that I was not having fun dancing with guys; however, all that changed when we went to the back room.

Unlike the other room, the back room was packed with so many people. You had to push your way through some of the larger folk, the straight people, and the not-so-good dancers to get to a good spot. I happened to have weaved my way, with Sam, in between the two podiums in the middle of the room. In front of me was an older guy that should really stop pretending that playing Dance Dance Revolution and dancing in real life are the same thing. The guys on the podium behind me were totally showing the other guy up. As I was busy rolling my eyes at the older guy on the podium, I looked dead ahead to see a guy that actually knew how to dance. Not only dance, but danced in the same way that I did. Moving his entire body. I begin to check him out, watching his moves. Then for some reason, might have been the alcohol, the lubido, or just my natural ways, but I started to dance with him.

Dancing with someone is very much like starting a relationship: you spend the first song learning each other's moves and patterns. Then once, you get comfortable, you are able to figure out how you both can get nasty without making the other feel awkward. After a while, I began to realize that I was getting such a workout dancing with this guy. He was pretty much doing the exact same patterns that I usually do. I began to feel myself evolve. Evolving from fearing Jeff walking into the room with his boyfriend, into being a person that really doesn't give a fuck anymore.

All three of us walked outside and began talking. We were talking about politics, careers, and how Sam and I knew each other. He was a recent graduate from a Catholic school in Nebraska and works with advertising and has some experience in film. As soon as he said the word "film" my interest peaked to the nirvana level. This guy is smart, has political savvy, and he knows film. Wow.

As he walked us to our car (I really should have driven in my own car!!!!), we exchanged phone numbers, kissed, embraced, and seperated. This time, unlike the other guys I have met (besides Jeff), I was watching him leave and could not help but smile the entire time he was leaving. Had God actually heard my plea for help and sent me this guy? If He did, I think I am a believer.

I had the biggest grin on my face. Smiling as I was watching him walk away, making occasional glances back at me to see if I was still checking him out....which I was. On the way back home, I realized that I had finally taken the big step of holding onto to something that was no longer there, into believing that I can actually survive in my new habitat: the single life. I mean I hope this guy is for real and wants to meet up with me, but if it doesn't happen, I know there will be more where that came from.