I was going to write this letter yesterday, Tuesday, August 30, 2011. The first draft was in my mind, but washed away with my consciousness’s low tide as I drifted to sleep last night at 10 P.M. Central Standard Time.

Friends – I am happy. I am ecstatic! If I were a religious man, I would say I have been possessed by the Holy Ghost! Instead I am in the Exosphere where the air particles rarely collide, where I am left alone with my thoughts (when I am not dancing wildly in the town square, singing renditions of Adam Ant songs from memory), where I am, left alone. For those of you who know me, I can be shy (rarely though), but I am always an extrovert. I always draw my energy from being around others - less like a vampire and more like a plant reaching for the sun.
Even though, here in the Exosphere, I am closer to the sun than ever before, I am still reaching, but more alone. The people, my soil, are far below…

Did I mention to you that I believe I am in love? It has only been six weeks: six wonderful, exciting, exhausting and depressing weeks. I swore I would never date long distance again, but here I am, with itineraries through December …

When in this position before, I have felt the same desperation, the same devotion, the same hysteria. Then like now, I feel like my ancestors, pushed to the bottle, to quiet the wailing doubtful demons in my head. The loneliness pushed me to the arms of other, less worthy, men. I did not care, I was young, I was beautiful … I was foolish.

Now I still am pushed for the bottle, but now I reach more so than am pushed. I also feel irresponsible for blaming my urges on my long dead ancestors. Before I believed that my devotion and idealization was to that other man, far away. Now, I know it was for me, not him. I longed admiration, attention.

Now I am not looking elsewhere. I am not missing general attention, but specifically the attention of one. My fantasies involve fixing garbage disposals, planning dinner parties, visiting family over the holidays. When did I mature? Wasn’t I suppose to be against this heteronormity? The enormity of my feelings sinks in at the Roosevelt Red Line stop.

I see a couple holding hands as they walk the platform. We couldn’t do that. Well, we COULD, but neither of us WOULD. Where will our strength come to fight society’s norms?

Those are all battles far away. Today’s battle is getting through today. “Someday”. Always someday. A life of somedays, and each day a someday becomes today a new someday plants itself in the horizon, taunting me in front of the sun, I snuggle (alone) under the covers. The image of the newest someday smirking burned into my mind, shining bright even with my eyes closed. “Someday. Someday I will see you some day.”

You are heavy in my thoughts and I apologize for the esoteric ramblings. I think you will understand.

Someday,

D. Joseph