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Last Chance Dance Slice

Summer’s over. It got cold last night in Ptown; it seemed that in the course of a couple hours, summer blew away and we were whisked right into a crisp, bracing fall.

I found myself outside Spiritus, watching the usual parade of rabble-rousers, some looking for a slice of pizza, some looking for their last chance. Labor Day is the last big fling in Ptown ... and it was an incredible weekend.

We had decided earlier that day to leave on Monday rather than Tuesday. For anybody who doesn’t know, it seems that our move to London is a go, details and timeline to be determined, but we’re going. It's all so surreal ... and I really won't believe it till I have a work visa in my passport and my first paycheck in pounds, but everything's pointing to that being a reality in the next few months.

So it was an unexpected last night in ptown for me. A night without goodbyes, without closure.

Just another one of the sights. I stood there across the street from the pizza place, watching, trying to take it all in, bent over my blackberry, tapping away on the keyboard, trying to take it all in, quasi-journaling, quasi-philosophizing, quasi-moto.

So this is me in my head last night, cleaned up a little from the bberry email to myself for clarity, but it’s still a rambling mess ….

I just had my last drink in Ptown in what could be a couple years. Alone at the Little Bar. I didn’t say goodbye to my favorite bartenders. Didn’t say goodbye to so many people, and probably won’t. Realizing I'm not spending my last night here at #7. It’s my home away from home, and I haven’t stayed there the last two trips. I want to go home ... to go stand on the roof and then walk downstairs and crawl into bed.

A man in leather just walked past me crying.

Life changes, and yet it goes on. I won't really be missed here, but I'll miss it so much. It'll be here, and new things will happen. I’m excited yet there’s this huge sense of melancholy, a knowledge that something’s ending … and so much more is beginning.

I was 19 yrs old when I came here for the first time, with my then friend Jen. I had no idea what Ptown was then. I had no idea then that there could be so many gay people. I wasn’t really out then, but I found a copy of The Best Little Boy in the World … I think maybe Ptown made me realize I could come out.

Then, years later, I started coming back with Larry. We got our condo. I had a new home. Deep inside, I know I’ll be back … but still, maybe not. You never know. Sanctuary could be replaced. But by what? We have no idea when we’re coming back.

We went to a gay wedding this weekend. A marriage of two friends, men who’ve been together for 29 and a half years, their family in attendance. It was something old, but made new. Amazing. There was so much love at that service … and in all the festivities that surrounded it ... the concert that precluded it and the bonfires on the beach that took us into the night.

I'm totally happy here … I never want to leave once I get here. Yet I l know it’s time to move on. Wish there was more of a goodbye, but somehow this last night is appropriately laid back.

Yes, I'll return, but when. I won't come back the same. And soon it will be far away and not just a whimsical car ride (albeit a long one) away. Look at everybody … there’s just so much joy here. So many boys to kiss, but I only want to hug the ones I l know and they are not here.

Am I trying to make this more than it is? Not really -- but something is changing and it's not just the weather. And it's not just mercury coming out of retrograde.

I'm so lucky. So many people in my life. Ptown’s just one aspect. All that is good has raised its head here. So many friends. Karen never got here, and that I regret.
I know its not over, but all I want is to sleep in # 7 tonight. To be home. And I don't know for sure that I will ever sleep there again, for nothing is certain in this life. Not being fatalistic, but still … you just never know. David died a few years after he moved to London. Why does that creep into my mind so often?

In the movie, all my memories would walk up to me now, right up Commercial Street, like in the sappy ending of Longtime Companion. Where’s Mary Louise Parker when you need her? Or Craig Lucas for that matter – been a couple years since I talked to him and what a heyday he’d have with me right now?

Where’s *anybody* that I know? I'm alone right now. I'm sure I'll see someone I recognize before the crowd disperses, but it would be self-indulgent to spill -- and I'm not in that mood (at least not to anyone but this silly contraption in my palm). I'm happy to observe and know that change is good and probably not as significant as I'm playing it in my mind.

I'm going away and no one knows, or the ones that know don't see it significant enough to make a deal of it. It's all happening so fast. I’m so blessed to have known and loved it here. So happy to have spent time here with friends and family -- people I love and who love me.

This is not my last night at Spiritus. But it is the last night of summer. And the last night I'll be here for along time, and I wish I had someone to hug -- not a new trick, but someone who could stand here with me and hold me and share this with me. I guess I could go wake Larry up, but that wouldn't be a ptown moment, would it. Our moments here are often shared, yet separate ... And rarely at last call. Maybe he's the smart one. Deciding to leave a day early and not stay out after dinner. Not say goodbye – just drive away early to get on with the real world ahead of him, of us.

I never want to leave here once I'm here. This is the most magical place.
I'm blessed to have spent so much time here.

So many friends. So much love. So many memories. The last 7 years have been amazing here. I cherish all the memories. Even if I can't recount each one. I feel like I'm silently walking away from one of the happiest places in my life. I know there are kajilliomns of happy places to come.
Enough of this foolishness. I should have a slice. Hmmmm, cheese or pepperoni?

Well, at least it can never be said that I'm not thinking -- just a little. Just a little too much?

Where's my pizza?


Sigh.