Date: Thu, 6 Aug 2009 11:23:45 -0400
From: Awriter Awriter <awriter1228@gmail.com>
Subject: Love Me For Me 3

"Love Me for Me"
Comments welcome at:  awriter1228@gmail.com

	Being thrown out of your house on your 18th birthday isn't exactly
what you expect to get as a present, however just the same, knowing that
you are hated by your own father isn't exactly the most wonderful feeling
either.  As I slowly walked down the front path of my house, I reached the
sidewalk, and I once again turned to look at the house where I had spent
the last 18 years, I looked up at the window to my old room and thought
about that time that I sat and played on my floor at 8 years old with my
parents loving and smiling at me, and for a moment nothing else mattered it
was a happy time, even with what happened over the following 10 years --
even with what happened 30 minutes ago, that time of happiness is the one
that I will always remember.
       Knowing that this was probably the last time I was ever going to see
this house, I took a deep breath and started walking down the street into
the next chapter of my life.  I started to consider where I could go, just
to stay for 3 weeks until I could finish high school, and at least have
that degree -- college, I was up for a scholarship however, I now
realized that I would probably never see that happen since I'd have to be
back at home-no at that house to receive the notification that I actually
got it.  Then again I could always just go to the campus to find out and
just say I never got it in the mail.  But the joke to that is, even if I
did get the scholarship -- that would mean figuring out how to make it
380 miles without much money.
       In any event, the first order of business was to find a place to
stay for 3 weeks graduate high school.  I considered going to my aunt, who
did not live that far away, maybe 3 or so hours on foot but for what
reason, it didn't seem worth it to me.  I decided that I would attempt to
stay with Mark for a week and walked the 20 minutes over to his house.  On
my way there I was trying to figure out how to explain to him and really
his parents why I needed a place to stay- and decided that I might as well
tell the truth, they would either let me stay or say no.  So with that I
went over to Mark's and before asking anything I pulled him aside and told
him exactly what happened and he looked at me and gave me a big hug and
said he would ask his parents, and they so gracefully agreed, and let me
stay with them for the duration of the school year -- which is actually
much more than I had asked for.  For 3 weeks I went to sleep each night
clutching that teddy bear as tightly as I could against my chest wishing it
were my father, but each time when I realized that it wasn't him, I
loosened my grip-never let go but just not as tightly.  It was really just
like my feelings-I loved him so much, and wanted him so badly -- no
matter how he felt, or what he did, my feelings for him-would never change.
       On June 25th, at the beginning of the commencement ceremony, I sat
next to my classmates, all of which I knew had their family there
supporting and cheering for them, and me just having a glimmer of hope that
maybe even with all his hatred, he might show up.  But, as we all stood
throwing our caps in the air, and each going to collect our diplomas, I
turned to look in the audience and saw him nowhere.  But I made my
decision, I was no longer going to hang around here, it really was time for
me to leave and move on to discover myself for real.
       After it was all over, I went back to Mark's house to collect my
things, and profusely thanked him and his family for their incredible
generosity over the past 3 weeks and that I would be forever grateful to
them.  As I was leaving, Mark ran up to me, and took my hand and led me
over to the side of his house and gently kissed me on the lips.  He looked
into my eyes, and said,
       "Joe, I know what you told me about you and your dad and what
happened, but I also know you long enough to see through you and what the
real issue is - true feelings towards him -- they are not wrong , you
love him and love is love no matter what.  I know I can't change your mind
about leaving now, but I want you to know that there are other people who
love you, and care about you more so than you could ever imagine."
	I looked at him with tears in my own eyes and just replied back "I
know mark and it means so much to me, but as you say you know me long
enough that my heart belongs to one man and no one else."  He just nodded
and said
	"I know Joey, I know. Just make me the promise that you will keep
in touch every so often and let me know that you are OK" I smiled, and
nodded and gave him one last hug and said thank you, and walked down his
driveway into the street, paused one last time waved goodbye and started
walking and again knowing that I would never see him again either.
	I slowly walked down Geary Boulevard crossing through Golden Gate
Park, I turned and saw an old park bench that I hadn't seen in over 10
years.  Even though I was really young, I can still remember dad holding my
hand as we walked through the park watching the fog roll in, playing hide
-- and --go --seek , and no matter where I hid, he was always there
to surprise me.  And there it goes again, it's things like that, that I
hold in my heart and I have to keep saying that no matter what he says, no
matter what he does I still love him, still want him --even if he didn't
love me.  But, at the same time I realized that I really did not belong
here anymore, I had to move forward, get on with life.  I was now a high
school graduate, I even have a free ride to college, all I have to do is
make it the 380 miles south to Los Angeles with what I have with me -- a
duffel bag with some clothes, pair of sneakers, a jacket and a teddy bear,
I wasn't really sure how I was going to make it there, but I had no choice
it was time to go.
	So I turned back to the road and continued walking on it until I
finally reached the end of it, crossed over the edge into the marsh land
and then over the rocks until I was stepping on the rocky beach. I put all
my stuff down behind one of the big rocks, took off my socks and shoes and
walked over the rocks and into the water just up to my ankles and stared
out into the ocean watching the waves rise and lower over and over again
-- it was like looking at life the ups and downs of happiness and
sadness, and by the time the waves hit my feet they were flat --almost as
if it was the area of unknown.  I turned around walked back to the rock
dried my feet put my socks and shoes back on, walked back up to the road
and headed south to LA.
	It is interesting to think how many times I had actually done this
by car -- just used to leave the house and drive around contemplating my
thoughts and the events of the day, and over and over the one thought that
ran through my head was, how I do I get dad to love me, how do I make him
understand me for me. And each time I pulled back into the driveway I never
had answers to those questions.  And then 3 weeks ago I came up with the
solution and followed through on it.  And while it was not completely
successful he did now know a major part of who I was.  Of course, there was
much, much more to it that I never did get to say, but it would not have
mattered.  All he heard was "Dad I'm gay".  But all that said, I was still
determined at some point to have him know the rest.
	As I was walking and thinking I suddenly realized that it was
getting dark out, and I had yet to find a place to sleep for the night.
But given the fact that I had chosen to follow a road that just went along
the water and not one with actual street signs or even lamps, I was in a
sense in the middle-well the end of nowhere.  I looked around for a while
and figured well the easiest way to figure out a direction would be to walk
back down to the water since at some point I'll hit the zoo.  So I walked
back down to the beach which to my luck had cleared up and was no longer
rock but beautiful white sand, I walked down the beach with the guide of
the moon light until I finally did see the lights of the zoo and walked
further up the beach right to the edge to and found a little spot covered
by some trees and just dropped my stuff and crashed there for the night.
	The following morning, well was probably just a few hours later
than I had fallen asleep, I woke up and realized that I did not remember
anything of my dreams -- which is highly unusual for me since 90% of the
time I do remember what I dreamed about the previous night.  I went to look
at my wrist to see what time it was, but discovered that there was no watch
-- again extremely odd since that was something I never took off.  Not
for a 11 years, never took it off once , it was a little Mickey Mouse watch
that he had given me for my 7th birthday and I had always worn it --
didn't take it off at night, not in the shower, never.  And each time the
band started to get too tight I took it to the watch store to get a bigger
band.  But then I realized what I had done with it, before I left the house
I took it off my wrist and wrapped it around the paper that I had slipped
under dad's door, just to hold the paper down there in case he crumbled up
the paper and threw it away -- at least maybe that watch would remind him
of all the `time' we had spent together.  And maybe, just maybe he'd come
looking for me.
	But, it was time to get moving again, I picked everything up and
walked back up the beach and onto the street and started walking south
again.  I had decided that I was going to walk for as much of the journey
as I possibly could without having to hitch-hike my way down there.  I
figured that if I could walk 10 to 15 miles a day with only stopping one or
two times to get something really quick to eat I should be able to make it
down there in about a month.  But even I knew that I wasn't going to be
able to do that.  At some point I was going to have to hitch a ride -- or
at least go as far as I could on some sort of transport on the money that I
had, and then figure out what to do when I got to that point.
	Each day that passed I kept walking, and walking and thinking
(which really is a dangerous thing for me to do).  I contemplated over and
over whether or not I had made the right decision about telling him, and
almost a month after I had made that statement to him.  And each time I
always come to the conclusion that even with all of its repercussions, it
was the right thing to do.  And again I keep saying to myself, how much I
didn't care about the fact that he hated gay's and hated me, I still
believed that even under all that hatred and close minded thought, that he
did still love me in some shape or form.  And even if I was completely
wrong and he really did hate me to the core, it still did not matter to me.
I loved him so much, and wanted him so badly nothing was ever going to
change that.
	Before I actually realized it, it was July 3rd, I had been walking
already for a week.  It was definitely time to finally break down and find
a cheap motel somewhere along the road and just get a shower and sleep in a
real bed for a night.  I worked my way back to what I figured was Highway
35 (well it was since that's the only road that goes down the coast up
here) and finally came across a truck stop.  It was grotesque to say the
least, but I didn't care I reeked more than the diesel fuel did.  I went in
the front door of the place, and the guy sitting behind the counter was man
that had to be at least 300 pounds with a grey beard, thick enough that you
could barely make out where his mouth was.  And all he said was
	"5 for the shitter and 15 for the fucker" Which at first didn't
click, but then I realized I wasn't exactly where I wanted to be.
Unfortunately, it was either walk another 15 miles tonight and crash
somewhere along the road, or take my chances in here.  I went with take my
chances here.  I shoved over the 20, and was directed up to the stairs to
the left to find tiny room with no door and a mattress on the floor.  It
was gross, but at that point I didn't care, I was so tired and so worn,
even running track for 4 years - 10 days of walking from what I could
calculate was roughly 90 miles takes its toll on you no matter what. I just
dropped my stuff and I finally just passed out.