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 85: Life goes on

Recently, a friend wrote the following…

“So, let me get this straight:

I am not safe as a woman, because a man could kill me for nothing more than saying I am not interested?

I am not safe as a black person because the cops could kill me for nothing more than driving while black?

And, I am not safe as a queer person, because a bigot could kill me for nothing more than existing?

Yeah…why ever would I hate living in the U.S.?

It is clearly great here..”

S.S.

I was shocked when I read this, as no one I know personally, has ever verbalized their feelings quite like this, and it brought back so many memories.

This country was founded on racism and bigotry, and it exists today throughout this country. The founding fathers, as it were, came to this land to escape religious and political persecution, and they founded a country based on exactly those values that they wished to escape from. The difference, is that they used those same values against everyone who was not white and christian like themselves. White men committed genocide against the first nation people who lived on this land for centuries. They enslaved black people whom they stole from homelands far away, and the laws these white people wrote treated people of color as property and not human beings. Blacks, asians, latins, anyone who was not white, or shared any religion that was other than christian was and still is discriminated against every day in this country.

Growing up in a major city, I was blissfully unaware of discrimination in my early youth. You see, I am considered an “other”. There were places I could not go, places I could not live. I knew these things, and yet was too young to question them. I am not a person of color in that designation, but my religion is enough to bring scrutiny upon myself.

When I met Annie, all that changed. If you’ve read any of my journal you would know why. You see, Annie lived in the perfect storm. She was Asian, not white, not christian, and she was transgender female, all designations christians hate the most. Then add in the fact that I am Jewish and there you have it.

The year we spent together was full of joy and fear. Everything we shared was based upon these two emotions. The joy of our mutual love was impossible to kill and yet every day, every place we went in this country, the fear of bigotry and discrimination was always so close to the surface, and we were always on guard as to who was around us and where we went.

We came so close to leaving this country. So close, we could taste the freedom from bigotry, discrimination and the ability to live our lives without fear. If Annie had not passed away, we would have lived our lives together in a safer country.

So, here we all are now in 2022. The racism, bigotry and discrimination from white christians still exists, and they make no effort to hide it. They are proud of who they are and make sure that everyone who is an “other” knows it and knows their place.

Personally, I think I am now too old to start over in a new country, and even after fifteen long and painful years, I grieve for Annie every day. I also had hopes that this country could change its racist ways, but that hope is fading fast.

I was so shocked when I read that quote from my friend, but I suppose I should not have been. I wish I had some comforting words to share with her, but I do not. She spoke the truth that white christians will never understand.

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 #82: Time

So, it’s been four months and twenty days since I last wrote here.

With a degree of certainty, I believed that if I just took a break for a while, and focused on my day to day life, I would be able to push my demons into the space they deserve and move away from the darkness.

I was wrong.

This month, was the anniversary of Annie’s birth. It has now been fifteen years since she passed at forty, and the truth is, my grief for her has never waned. I miss her every day and some of those days are impossible to face. It seems like everywhere I go and everything I do, brings back memories of us together and all the plans we had for our future.

After all of this time, I have come to the conclusion that my grief over losing her will never pass. Yet, I look at this as a positive, as I have no other choice. It must be a positive, as my memories of her are as vivid in my mind as the days we made them.

Annie is with me wherever I go. While my sadness and depression over losing her is a constant that I successfully hide from everyone, the memories we made shall never die as long as I can take a breath. It would have been quite different, had I known other people whom I could have shared our story with when she was still alive. Other than a select few, that was not the case. Back then she endured so much discrimination, that I am not sure how she could carry on in the attempt at a normal daily live we take for granted.

I will always take her memories with me, as they represent the fact that I enjoyed the love of an amazing, intelligent and beautiful woman both in public and private.

Going forward, as I recall all of the many events of our relationship, I will attempt to put more of them down into this journal. While I only had her for a scant year, she will always be my heart.

Sure, I know many people, but none but a select few will ever know of Annie. That is how I will continue to protect her. Her secret is safe with me. While she will no longer have to live through the discrimination that was a constant in her life, I will also no longer give the power of that discrimination over to anyone who never knew her. She is safe with me as she always was when we were together.

Entry #80:Clingy

What is a clingy person?

What Does It Mean to Be Clingy? Having a clingy personality means that a person tends to stay very close to someone for support, protection, and more.

I recently read a post by someone about being clingy. She did not know for sure how she felt about it.

That struck a chord with me so I decided to think about my own experiences. Do I know anyone who is clingy? Am I clingy? So here is my take on it.

From the moment we met, Annie and I knew there was something special and unusual about our friendship and relationship. We just could not stay away from each other. The fact that neither of us had ever had a relationship with someone like each other did not sway us. We were like two peas in a pod.

It did not matter what we were doing, or where we were going, we enjoyed the constant touching of each other in so many ways. Walking down the street, her with her thumb tucked into my belt and me with my hand stuffed into her back pocket so I could feel her ass made both of us very happy.

Hands in each others jeans, holding hands on the beach, sitting in front of the tube with her feet in my lap…anywhere and everywhere, there was the described safety and support and protection.

I was so protective of her that I could not let her go unless we were apart. There were so many days and nights we looked into each others eyes as we touched and explored. She always knew that I was there for her no matter what or who we encountered when out in public, and in private I was able to prove my love for her over and over again. She thrived under my touch and I suppose to an outside observer we might have been perceived as clingy.

Annie certainly did not care, and neither did I. Since she has been gone, I cannot imagine going on without someone to hold and touch like that. Annie was as dependent upon my touch, as I was to hers.

So…yes…I suppose I am a clingy person without that special someone to cling to, to support, and to protect, to walk hand in hand, to walk with my hand in her back pocket so I could feel the curve of her backside, like I did for Annie…

Entry #79: Valentine’s Day

There was a time in my past that I enjoyed this day. More than I could ever describe.

I spent two of them with Annie and those two celebrations were my ultimate joy. We spent those days eating home cooked sensual creations, and when not eating, we spent the day and evening in bed together.

There was nothing we enjoyed more than enjoying sensual massages with each other. I did my research in order to study the most erotic and pleasure producing techniques I could find. I know for sure that my research was successful, as I could not peel Annie away from me once we began.

Looking back, these sort of days were her absolute favorites. She was safe with me, nothing in daily life to distract her or make her fearful. Being transgender, her days were filled with fear and apprehension whenever she was out in public. But those days, as she stared at me lovingly while enjoying the fruits of my labor, the peace I felt was never the same anywhere else without her.

When I was with her like this, my demons were banished and my anxiety over her safety never surfaced. But now it is different.

Valentine’s Day is an empty shell for me. There is no pleasure here. My demons are stronger than ever, and I live with an anxiety that I cannot shed.

The anxiety is the worst part. I would love to find someone to enjoy these sensual massages together, No strings, no relationship required. Just someone who enjoys the acts of intimacy without the commitment and baggage.

Yet, I won’t seek that person out. My anxiety is too strong, and since it has been so many years since enjoying those moments, my anxiety now encompasses the fear of lack of performance. What if things don’t work like they used to?

A lack of performance ability would be devastating, not to mention impossible to face.

So, I will spend the day thinking of Annie and remembering all of those joyful moments we spent together.

I think in the end, it is better this way.

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.