Tag: relationships

Entry #89 The Silence

I never appreciated the comfort that silence generates.

The world is a noisy place and always has been. Both my life, and Annie’s were filled with the constant din and noise of living in society. We both had difficult jobs that required constant interaction with others, and a world of noisy travel and endless meetings and the pressure to outperform our peers. Add in my musical career, and the constant mental noise became both unavoidable and unbearable at times.

It wasn’t until we met, that we were able to embrace a certain silence that emanated from our love for each other and the endless quest to just be alone together in peace, in a world full of noise and confusion. Despite our positions, we both bordered on being unsociable among others for reasons. In Annie’s case, being transgender and a person of color, meant she endured constant judgement and never felt safe among people she did not know. I dreaded my interactions with people even though being a touring musician meant I had to deal with crowds of people constantly. The music is what I lived for, never the people. In both of our cases, it seemed such a high price to pay for an unachievable mental calmness.

Once we met however, it took no time at all for us to realize that our peace and quietness came from our just being together. When together, we had the ability to bring forth the silence we both craved for. We spent hours and hours together, in the forest, at the beach, lying in bed together, enjoying the city skyline or the stars above at night without having to say a word. We could cuddle and snuggle and please each other without a word being said.

For us to find each other seemed a miraculous set of events. Everything about Annie brought me peace in our time we spent together. Her incredible intellect…her embrace of my doing everything possible to make her safe when we were out and about…her amazing body and the beauty of her soul. The silence we enjoyed together without having to speak a word, is something so rare, that when it is gone, it cannot be reclaimed.

There is no longer silence in my life. The gift of silence that Annie brought to me ended when she died. Hard as I may try, there is no reclaiming what she brought to me in life. The world is noisier than ever, and I push myself away from as many people as possible. There is no joy in the noise. My joy came from Annie, and the silence we achieved together. 

Entry #88: Hotels

Annie and I always chose particular types of hotels. In the beginning, we would stay at major hotel chains, due to the ease of finding nice clean rooms in well kept properties.

But one night that all changed.We coordinated a last minute trip to one of our favorite cities and there was some sort of convention in town, meaning most of the major hotel chains were booked up.

I searched around and found an interesting looking boutique hotel, booked it and looked forward to seeing it. We were both pleased when we arrived and checked in. All the amenities we required were there and the staff was much more friendly than at the major hotels. The room was decorated fine and the whole vibe was welcoming.

The biggest surprise was the over sized bath tub in the bathroom. Annie and I had not known each other that long and there were still things for us to explore together. That night I suggested we take a bath together since the tub was large enough for us both to fit. Annie was less than thrilled over the idea. Even though we had enjoyed each other intimately so many times, this seemed a bridge to far for her. It took a lot of convincing on my part before she relented.

Once we got into the tub, it took a while for me to get her to relax and enjoy it. She told me that no one had ever seen her naked in a bath and no one had ever wanted to bathe her or show her love for her body. She cried that first time. She was so deprived of love and physical contact that she did not know how to react or respond.

That might have been one of the longest baths ever.. We decided right then, that as long as we could find boutique hotels that fit within our expense guidelines, and if they all had rooms with large bath tubs, those were the hotels we would use.

And we did. The many hours spent together in a bathtub full of hot water, me showing her how much I loved not only her, but her body were some of the finest hours of our relationship.

I never took a bath before that first time and I have never taken one since she passed. Those experiences are gone forever from my reality, but never from my memories.

Entry #86 Unsure…

The end of another year is upon us, and the 16th anniversary of Annie’s death is only three months away.

I miss her every day, and my grief shows no sign of waning. Many days it is overwhelming and I stumble through the days unfocused and lacking the motivation to go on. No one understands, and even though I sometimes try and confide in another human, I can just tell that they not only don’t get it, they don’t get me at all.

When you fall for someone like I fell for Annie, there is no recovery once that is lost. Losing that loving person, whose touch was electrifying, and the bond we shared, that cannot be recreated with another is soul crushing. Not that I haven’t tried to meet someone who might share some of the same experiences or feelings. It has been to no avail.

The more I try and ascertain what has happened over the intervening years, the more I have come to the realization that I am drawn to a specific type of person. When I meet someone new, I tread very softly and refuse to reveal much about myself until I can feel some level of comfort with that person. Does their life experience in any way relate to my time with Annie? Could they ever understand where I am coming from? Would they even care?

The majority of people I meet disappoint on so many levels. Why are so many people consumed with material things, and not trying to establish a dialogue or friendship with someone who can be empathetic and open to life experiences that may be different from those of the past?

In the end, the few people I have met that have made an emotional and mental connection with me have turned out to be just like Annie. Those few individuals have been both transgender and persons of color. I cannot explain why. I can only recognize the connection and comfort I feel in their presence, often because they are willing to share their experiences with me as I share mine.

The problem is, that for me, it is too late to meet someone new and forge one of those amazing relationships. I am just too old, and those few people I have met and connected with are far younger than I.

So as yet another year draws to a close, I live with my memories of Annie. Meeting another person like Annie, and being able to forge another friendship, and even a possible relationship remains just wishful thinking. These are lost years with more lost years to come. If I was a younger guy, there might be some hope, but alas, I am not. I am hopeful, and yet realistic in the fact that it won’t happen. I will never feel the love and touch of another person like Annie. I might yet be proven wrong, but hold no expectations. I believe I am destined to walk alone with my memories of Annie, a transgender woman of color who changed my life forever.

I believe I have finally reached the point of giving up…

Entry 84: Silence

Silence is so under valued.

The older I get, the more I realize that I get little enjoyment of conversations with most folks. Few have anything meaningful to contribute, and I am so tired of listening to or taking part in inane conversations, upon topics that have no value.

Silence holds much promise in a world overrun with noise, and the fact that most people only wish to hear themselves making profound (to them) statements about absolutely nothing.

Annie taught me so much about appreciating the silence. We could and did spend many hours together without speaking a word. All we had to do was look into each other’s eyes and it was as if we could read each other’s mind.

Our silence with each other was spiritual and sexual all at the same time. If you look into another person’s eyes long enough and in silence, you can actually see their wants and desires expressed back to you. I know this to be true, as Annie and I lived for these moments together, where we could just embrace each other even without touching.

The first time we locked eyes, we knew. We knew how much we desired one another without speaking a word. That first look, brought us a year of unbelievable love and a true sense of having found someone that could in an instant see into our deepest thoughts.

Annie was the gift I could never have anticipated. Every moment we spent together was a gift. The fact that she is gone has haunted me for fifteen years. The silence that we enjoyed so often, is often impossible for me to find. The few times I do find it, is when I travel to one of our favorite places like the beach or the forest. But even then, the silence is fleeting, as my mind is unable to embrace it without her.

The silence is what I strive to find, over and over again. Finding that silence is the only thing that will provide me with the peace I yearn for. It is all I can hope for, because the truth is, I will never find another Annie, and most other people bore me to tears.

Entry #83: 82

82 is the number of entries I have made to this journal prior to this one. I never anticipated that this endeavor would have gone on for this long. Despite all of the things I have written to this point, I feel that there is so much more I care to write about. If only I could motivate myself to reveal more of my memories without falling back into the darkness that inevitably results, It is hard to believe that after all of these years, my grief continues to be worn on the surface of my being. It is inescapable.

If you have not read all of the entries, and are in any way confused over my incessant babbling on, then I would suggest you go back and start at the very beginning with entry number one and as you move forward, a more complete picture of who Annie was and how our lives intersected will emerge.

When I think back to the loss of Annie, that single event shattered my life forever. I left my career, eventually restricted my travel to places other than those we shared together, and when faced with the fact that I continue to age, and decided to no longer work for the benefit of companies, I now spend my time dabbling in anything that cannot be said to be a serious endeavor.

It is said somewhere, that people look at the world with a glass half full or half empty perspective, and that choice determines your level of happiness. Well…I have a glass. My glass has both. One half is half full and I use that to relive and hold dear all of the memories and joy I can bring forth about the times Annie and I had together. The other half is full of the darkness and bitterness of loss without closure. Trying to find a balance between half full and half empty is no small feat, and I fail more times than not in trying to keep myself afloat.

So, this is entry number 83.

My glass tells me there is more to come.

Entry #78: Loving an “Other”

This country I live in was founded on racism, and although over 200 year have passed, the fear and hatred of “others” continues. I do not have a solution and little hope that this will change.

All I have to offer are my own experiences.

Annie was a love that I never searched for. Until she stormed into my life, I was blissfully unaware of the daily discrimination taking place in this country. I was too busy carrying on with my own life.

You see…Annie was an “other”. A Person of Color. Asian. Transgender. A perfect trifecta for the hate that lives in this country. Hate that is fueled by religion and white privilege.

Our love for each other burned white hot. I cannot even begin to express how many hours, days, months, I spent doing my best to ensure that whenever Annie was with me, she would be safe from the hate and violence daily inflicted upon POC.

The stories she would tell me of discrimination and violence endured in her community were devastating to hear. While I had no first hand experience in my growing up, I sure got a face full of hate once we were together in public. I was not prepared with experiences to fall back on. This was all new to me and it was the scariest part of my life. Scary, because no matter what I did, or how I acted, I was powerless to protect her 24 hours a day.

Our year together was the most glorious time of my life. Annie was a life force unto herself and every day that passes, I thank the universe for bringing her into my life. Her life was cut short by the simple fact that her body failed the day she achieved her greatest victory over her dysphoria. If that isn’t the most cruel twist of fate, I don’t know what would be.

It is now fourteen years since Annie passed on. The hate of “others” continues to grow in this country, fueled by religious fanatics and just plain ignorant people. 

I cannot envision ever meeting someone like Annie again. I think you only get one chance at that. I am so fortunate to have had her love for the year we had together. I will cherish all of those memories for whatever time I have left.

Entry #77: Fraud

I am such a fraud.

Recently, I had the opportunity to go out for a drink with a female friend. She and her husband are pretty good friends to me.

She went on and on about what a chill and down to earth guy I am, and that they both appreciate my friendship.

Little does she know that I die inside a little more every time I hear something like that. They have no idea who I am…none. And…I cannot or will not tell them.

Another anniversary of Annie’s death is fast approaching and if have to be honest about it, I don’t know how much longer I can bear it.

They never knew about Annie. Almost no one in my life has that knowledge, and holding that knowledge deep inside is going to be the end of me. I wish I had the opportunity to tell her story somewhere other than in these pages, but I trust no one to be able to understand.

You see…whenever any of my feelings for Annie came out in the open, she and I were met by absolute hatred for who she was and by extension myself for loving her. Maybe it was just the times we lived in back then and maybe things are better today, yet I refuse to take another chance that the relationship we had can be met with understanding and acceptance.

No one in the outside world who knew Annie’s story accepted her. I was the only one. I will never understand the cruelty and hatred that humans have for one another, and I have given up trying to make any sense of it all.

Forty two more days till I relive her death yet again.

No one knows, no one cares, no one can see me as the fraud that is right in front of them. I am not the person I present to you. You cannot see into my heart and the darkness that enslaves me.

Entry #72: My New Friend

Recently, I had the opportunity to travel from my home and sleep in a strange bed. It was there that I have found a new friend. It was a nice bed…very comfortable and spacious.

Once I got into the bed however, I found a human sized pillow along with a note explaining that this pillow was meant to be hugged when sleeping. Well, of course, I had to try it and it brought back so many memories of Annie.

One of the many things Annie and I loved to do was to just lay in bed, all stretched out hugging each other with nothing between us. It wasn’t just about making love or having sex. It was the comfort we felt with each other in the naked state.

When our schedules were not filled with meetings or clients, we took every opportunity to do this together, even during the day time. Annie would purr and push her body back against me as I hugged and enveloped her. Her actions told me that she felt safe in this bed with me and that in turn made me so happy. The fact that this action provided her with a sense of security was overwhelming in some sense.

Well, Annie isn’t here any longer, and yet, this simple pillow helped me to re live all of these memories of those intimate moments of trust and safety with her.

I don’t seek out another to share these memories or even to make new ones. People are so disappointing to me on so many levels. It has been frustrating to say the least and that is why I choose to not even try any more.

But…I do have a new friend now. I think I will purchase one of these pillows. The feeling of serenity it gives me is indescribable, and I don’t have to worry about being judged by another human who does not even attempt to understand my feelings or thoughts.

Entry #66: Losing My Mind

It has been thirteen years, three months and eight days since Annie passed from this world. She has been with me in spirit every day, and my love for her has never waned. Often, I think of the day when I will join her wherever she is.

Mindful of how others might perceive my grief, I have managed to prevent those thoughts and feelings from seeing the light of day when others could also see them. I have become an expert at hiding myself.

Yet, my mind has managed to turn on me. While I know in my heart, I will never give up on the memory of Annie, I seem to have another woman break into my thoughts more frequently than I could have predicted. My friend I have written about a few times has become an important part of my life and thoughts, even though we do not see each other as often as we have in the past.

It is a platonic friendship, at least at this point. We have never shared a romantic embrace, kiss or anything like that. And though these things have never happened in real life, they occur more frequently to me in my dreams.

For the last two days, I have been bedridden with illness and there is where my mind decided to attack me. I may have been delusional in my illness, but I prefer to think of it as a harbinger of possibilities, even though the universe will not give that to me.

You see, she appeared to me at my bedside yesterday. I felt something take hold of my foot and when I turned, there she was. I watched as she shed her clothing and stood before me as she pulled back the blanket and joined me in bed. The visual of her beautiful, nude, melanin body against me with her braids covering our heads like a curtain, was such a rush that I had a difficult time breathing. She has shared quite a bit of her damaged journey in growing up, and I knew in that instance, I finally had the opportunity to show her how a man could not abuse her, but treat her with physical love.

And then a neighborhood dog barked, my eyes flew open, only to find the bed empty next to me. It was all a dream.

So close. So close to showing her a loving experience. 

I must be losing my mind when my dreams are more real than the reality of my life.