Calm Before the Storm

Many things have happened within the last month. Mine is a story of grief, sorrow, and loss. Quite a long sequence of very unfortunate events have unraveled themselves. I believe that this depressing time has finally ceased; however, I have this looming feeling climbing over me that something terrible is going to happen. I prey it never does.

But just as there is a calm before the storm, so was there a calm in the paroxysmal crisis. Please allow me to paint you a portrait of my life from before.

Imagine Las Vegas; not a glittering metropolis, but a collection of cockroach-infested homes and business, both hurting from the economic recession.

I was very idle in my house, I'll admit it. Living with me was my ex-step-mother, another failed relationship of my father's. She was a soft creature, nice to a fault, who did the cooking and cleaning in the house. With her was her daughter, a strong and proud lesbian girl, who was incredibly reliable, although you probably wouldn't notice unless you had entered a situation which required her.

Also in the house was a demon of a man, an unpredictable maniacal man, a man of low quality, a man confused by his own greif. He was my father, but no longer. He was a very hateful person; he wouldn't hesitate to inflect his own brand of torture on you. In fact, he had been torturing me for quite a while in this timeframe. He had been cutting off my electricity, cutting me off simultaniously from contact with the outside world. He had done this many times before; but this time, I acted differently. I knew how he was commiting the act. Any respect I could have had for him had disappeared weeks, maybe months, ago. I wouldn't put up with him anymore. I took matters in my own hands, restoring power to my room whenever there was a chance.

But this is not about my father. Not yet, at least. This is about a man I met, who, given more time, I am certain would have changed my life. He goes by the name of Yaken.

We met after I responded to his ad on (of all places!) Pounced.org. We went to Texas station. He had the hardest time trying to find me there. We started at the buffet, then we went to the theatre. We saw Quarrentine. I held on to him during the scary parts. We went to the arcade. We blew a lot of money. Then we went to the bowling alley and played for a while.

I don't believe I've ever had so much fun with another person before. When we were tired, and had to go home, I realized that I wanted to spend so much more time with him. We spent probibly another half-hour bent over the bus map, trying to find a route which would allow me to spend more time with him on his long journey home. Walking to the bus stop, we realized how cold it had gotten. I was wearing a short-sleaved shirt that day. I didn't even have to think twice when I stuck my arm around his back. We got to the bus stop, which gave us both the opritunity to take in more of eachother. The bus came, dropping us off at Jones.

The events after that are my most preacous memories. The bus never came; it was too late. Yaken, being chivalrous, had insisted that we call a cab and he'd take me home. I don't know how long we were waiting for it; probibly four or five hours (We ended up calling three different cab companies; the second one was the first to send us a driver). In the meanwhile we kept holding on to eachother. According to Yaken, there are six or seven people gunning to be his mate; in no time at all, I had become the most favored of them all; in no time at all, I had fallen in love with him.

This love was a substantial thing for me. I had been in love what feels so many times with people whom I would never even meet. For the first time, I had someone to hold on to, to love physically as well as emotionally and spiritually.

And this is one aspect of what I have lost.