I did go to Chicago, yes against the outcry, a decision that I do not overly regret. The only thing that seems to hurt Carrie more than what I do is the constant changing of the playing fields – going / staying, bi / gay / queer (a term which I am finally coming to appreciate in all its, well, queerness).
On the plane home, I again picked up pen and wrote, six plus pages, facts and feelings. I came home and Carrie and I talked, a victory in its own right, and this morning we talked some more. And what would all this be without a few e-mails to Sis. So I have been busy, many things on my mind.
There are many posts to this trip, the ones from the plane which I will transcribe and share, ones from the return which need to be written – in my mind and on my keyboard. So you may be wondering where I am going with this post: simple. I am in awe of the number of people who through comments and / or e-mails care about us and have chosen to come along for the ride. And I am guessing there are some who are wondering if I went to Chicago – I did, if I returned, for sure, and if my belongings were possibly deservedly on the front lawn – they were not.
I learned much in Chicago but there are no magic answers, no silver bullets anymore. I came home as aware as ever of my gay side and I came home again wanting – not doing, but wanting – to beg my way back into the bedroom, back to my family. But I realize that I have my family with the price of admission remaining unchanged, accept a quite lovely basement and stop “hitting” on Carrie, hitting on her to open any more doors. Showing respect, what many of you have oft times suggested, should be simple enough.
To those who are noting the sparse word count today, fasten your seat belts; I still have much to say.
Written with love and humility to those who have spent a year trying to do the impossible, to get me to listen