Date: Wed, 12 Aug 2009 11:05:00 -0400
From: Awriter Awriter <awriter1228@gmail.com>
Subject: Re: Love me for me Part 4

"Love Me for Me" part 4
Comments welcome at:  awriter1228@gmail.com

       I woke up to the sound of a light pitter-patter across the floor,
suddenly realizing that it was a rat I jumped 10 feet into the air, I had
absolutely no idea what time it was, but certainly later than I wanted it
to be.  Ran into filthy shower -- which really was gross, showered as
quickly as I could and ran out of that dump.  As I turned to walk out, I
saw the clock it was already after 11, I had lost almost half the day,
which meant an extra long walk today at least 20 miles, yep was definitely
going to be a rough one.
	As I continued down along the highway just thinking and walking, I
started to wonder whether or not the entire thing was worth it.  Why am I
actually doing this to myself?  In all honesty I probably could have taken
my car and just drove off-granted that would be taking the chance of being
caught driving a stolen car, given the possibility that when he saw it
missing he would have reported it stolen.  But even I couldn't believe that
he would do that.  Then again, I did not anticipate him throwing me out of
the house either -- being mad certainly but throwing me out, I didn't
exactly expect it.  I could have also gone to the bank and taken out the
cash that I needed to get to LA -- that's something he could not stop me
from doing or really have any control over -- it was my name on the
account, actually I could still do that now.  But no, even with all those
options at my finger tips, I still felt the need to do this.  I just
haven't figured out why.
	I guess in a sense I knew partially what the reason was but again
it was moot -- I think that part of this is me wanting to show him that I
could survive - that his faggot gay son could survive on his own -- but to
what effect?  If he didn't come looking for me, he didn't care to begin
with.  But at that point I decided not to think about that anymore because
it was just going to drive me insane and really no purpose at all.  But of
course as with every other issue that was wrapped around this -- if dad was
even the most miniscule part of it -- it always brought me back to that one
thought -- no matter what he does, what feelings he causes me, I still love
him no matter what, and would jump into his arms in a heartbeat.
	As I continued to walk, and push forward, the days went by one
after another, I did my absolute best to make it as far as I could every
single one them, usually starting out by 4 am and stopping by 1130pm I made
a good 15-18 miles a day. I kept the food to a minimum and stayed in cheap
motels when I could find one along the highway.  While the prospect of
breaking down and finding a ride the rest of the way down there got more
and more tempting, I always wound up back at the same thought, would dad be
proud of me for giving up just because I was tired? Nope had to keep going,
I was determined to do this on my own, I wasn't go let a damn thing stop
me.
	As I had already been walking down the side of US 101 for god knows
how many days already, I had lost count a while ago, I finally saw a sign
that said "Los Angeles 5 miles".  I stopped dead in my tracks, I kept
reading that sign over and over again 5 miles.  I could not believe it, I
didn't even think it was possible, had I actually walked 330 miles??  I
walked as fast as I possibly could to the nearest truck stop, went in and
just asked what the date was.  July 22.  I stood there dumbfounded. I
started out, June 26th, it was now July 22, I have been walking for the
past 27 days, I could not fucking believe it, I had actually done it.  5
more miles and I was in LA, I said "thanks" and walked out of the store,
looked in front of me and just stood there with my mouth open, there was
the city of Los Angeles.
	I was so happy, so proud, so shocked really, it was like winning
that first gold medal at the track meet -- that feeling of "wow", I was
actually able to do this.  But at the same time, it was just like the track
meet again, I had no one to share it with but myself, and that's the part
that made the entire accomplishment really in a sense worthless.  But such
is life, you have to press on no matter what.  So I continued my walk
further to make it into the city, ask for directions as to where the UCLA
campus was, then find the cheapest motel possible get a shower and a good
night's sleep and find out whether or not I was going to be able to get a
college degree or not.
	Interestingly enough those last 5 miles seemed to take the longest,
the road just dragged on, and the buildings didn't appear to be getting any
closer, but as I watched the signs for the different turn-offs to different
streets, I realized that I really had done it.  It took me a month of
walking, but I did it -- no question about it I made it to LA.  In
searching for somewhere to say for the night I came across a branch of my
bank, stopped and looked in and then down at myself, and laughed at how
ragged I looked, and finally decided that I had to break down and go and
take out money -- provided there was some still in there.  Luckily the
account had not been touched -- I took out the cash went to buy some new
clothes and then off to find a motel and get myself ready to prove -- to
myself really that I can do whatever the fuck it is that I want to.
	I found a motel about 10 blocks away from the main campus of the
school, went checked in ran back out did a bit of shopping, bought a new
suit, got my hair cut and then just walked around the area for a bit trying
to get my bearings and figure out where I was and how I was going to take
the next steps.  Although in going back to the motel I realized that I had
forgotten most of my papers when I left my father's house but did have my
diploma -- so I figured(hoped) that the school already had everything else
and I could just walk in give a copy of my diploma and move forward.
       But as I sat on the bed in the motel rooming staring at my diploma,
I kept asking myself how much is this really worth to me?  How much is
anything that I'm doing now worth to me?  Yes it's important to have all
these things now, and I will need the degrees in the future, but what is
the point of all of this, if there's no one to share it with?  I thought
about what Mark said a month ago, "..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."  But I again
laughed at that, because as true as that may be, it did not matter how many
people loved me, wanted to be with or take care of me -- absolutely none of
them mattered because they weren't dad.  It was actually at that point that
I realized that I was going to be living a very lonely life.  After that
realization, I grabbed that teddy beard, layed down on the bed and just
fell asleep trying to convince myself that I had to move on, but that same
thought kept ringing in my head.  No matter what he does, what he says,
what he feels, I still love him, and still want him as my father, my lover
and my soul mate.
       I awoke the following morning, ready to be on a mission to complete
everything that was handed to me.  I was going to go to get that degree,
and prove to -- who, I don't know, me I guess, that I can do this and I
don't need the help or support of anyone else.  I got dressed and made my
way over to the school campus and found the admissions office and went in
with my fingers crossed that they are going to tell me that the scholarship
was granted to me and that I would have a full ride through my
undergraduate education. By the grace of God I had been granted the
scholarship, all I had to do now was take one final entry exam and I could
begin my 1st semester.
       I wanted to jump for joy, but again refrained from it, would look
stupid doing it alone, so I just said thank you, sat and took the exam,
gave it back to them, set up my courses for the fall, and now I had 3 weeks
to kill until school started the last week of August.  I had arranged for
student housing, so at least I would be able to save on having to get an
apartment, I just moved into the dorm and that was it.  Of course the
burning question that I was hoping would not come up was asked by one of
the RA's "So is your family coming to help you get all settled in and see
the campus before you begin the semester?"  I must have had the ugliest
face on because he looked a little scared and I just said,
       "Sorry that's a bit of a sore spot to me, but no they will not be,
my mother and brother passed away last year, and I do not have a
relationship with my father."  And I left it at that -- quite honestly I
can't believe I gave have him that much information, but what was said was
said. I looked back at him and saw him with what looked like tears, and I
just looked at him and asked if he was OK.  He responded,
       "I'm so sorry to hear that, about your mom and brother and you and
your father, it's just a story that kind of hit's my own core."
       Now I was curious, I was getting the feeling that this was no t
going to be any normal type of conversation. I mean I already knew that he
was gay, just from shaking my hand initially my gaydar went through the
roof, so I knew we had at least that connection, but there was definitely
something else here too.  So I decided that I'd be the typical person that
I was and just flat out ask him what his issue was.  So I looked directly
into his eyes and said to him,
       "Well for one I'll make the assumption that we play for the same
team no?"  He looked straight back at me and just nodded yes, so there was
the confirmation of 1 connection, which actually would make the rest of the
conversation somewhat easier.  So I dug a little bit deeper and said,
       "Well, I know that we've just met, but I have the feeling that aside
from playing for the same team I get the feeling that you and I have a lot
more in common than that, and if you want to talk about it, I'm more than
happy to listen.  And all of a sudden, he broke into a smile and then into
tears.  Yep, just as I thought, there's a much deeper connection here and
it was time to figure out just what that connection was.
       After just standing in the hallway of the dorm staring at each other
I suggested that we go into my room and just sit and talk about whatever.
He followed me in and just sat down in my desk chair across from the bed,
looked at me and in about 30 seconds burst into tears, holding his face in
his hands, and for a minute I had a flash back to my father sitting on the
couch doing the same thing after finding out about the accident.  I
tentatively got up off the bed and went over to him and gave him a slight
hug, but before I even had the opportunity to pull away he locked on to me
and wouldn't let go.  I pulled back a little and just very quietly figured
I'd make the easiest statement that made the most sense here, and said,
       "Let me guess, you came out to them, and they flipped out and kicked
you out of the house."  He just nodded, and there was connection number
two.  I thought about digging for more but decided against it and figured
if he wanted to say the rest he would.  He finally sat up and looked at me
again, and again I was shot back to my father doing the same thing and
looking the same way-blood shot sapphire blue eyes.  This really was
getting freaky, if he tells me that he was or is in love with his father, I
think I might burst into tears myself.  But he just looked at me and
finally said,
       "All I ever wanted was for them to like me, pay attention to me.
What could be so difficult about that? I'm an only child, they owned their
own business and worked from home, and they just basically ignored me. I
just don't get it.  And I finally figured well, if I tell them something
this big about me, maybe they will finally pay attention to me."
       I just sat there thinking to myself, OK this is really sick now, I
am listening to a parallel of my own life.  But I just sat there and
listened to more, and he continued on,
       "And then finally one night I just told them, and they sat there in
silence, boring eyes into my head (finally a difference), and then my
mother got up and left the table and my father spoke his last 7words to me,
`get out and don't ever come back'.  It's been 6 years I've never heard
from them again"
       OK now I was in tears, I still don't understand how people can be so
cruel, so not understanding and so damned vicious.  It just never made any
sense to me.  But one thing that was clear, I just made a new friend today.
I thought about going into the details about my issue but decided against
it. All I said was "I'm so sorry that happened, but I do know how you
feel."  But again the thing was, I could tell that as sad and upset as he
was about it, he also had seething hatred towards his parents, just by the
way he spoke and the tone of his voice -- there was sadness and extreme
anger.  But once again, me?  I still loved my father more than anything in
the world and would take him anyway I could get him, no matter what.