Remember my little gay buddy? He's the one that drags me out to the gay bar at least once a month. Well, he's now my little gay roomie. It started out as a temporary thing a few months ago but I've now invited him to officially move in with me. It's working out splendidly. Think Will & Grace meets The Odd Couple. We bicker like an old married couple and then curl up and watch movies together. It's pretty special.
Our largest bone of contention? His penchant for watching Hannah Montana at midnight. He tortures me with it. It's the most irritating background noise when I'm trying to sleep. But aside from that, it's all fun and games.
We discuss men a lot. It's nice to have someone to compare notes with. He gives me some interesting perspectives on the fairer sex. :)
Some days, I still cannot believe I'm here living this life I'm leading, whatever this life is. I remember where I was almost ten years ago, a tortured Jehovah's Witness trying to please her God. I had had a really great gay male friend at the time. Like the current roomie, we worked together. He was instrumental in helping me learn about fashion. I came to work one day in a floral frock and he called me Holly Hobbie and said we needed to buy me some new clothes. He helped me shop. A year later I was working as a sales specialist for Ralph Lauren clothing. I could never have done that without him.
Then life got ugly. I've posted about the episode I went through when I committed a "sin" as a jw, back in '99. After that I was excommunicated and shunned for a period of a year and a half while I fought my way back into the folds. During that time, I was struggling for a sense of identity and was not able to let go of my tribe. As I was trying so hard to get back into the good graces of my God, I parted ways with my gay friend. He was gracious enough to bow out of my life and I still admire him for his actions.
I was such an idiot. The irony of cutting off someone I loved while the jw's were cutting me off is something that still pains me. James, if you're out there, I'm so sorry.
And so, life has come full circle, as it often does. I'm living with a gay man, someone I consider family, and all is well. There is no one saying I can't and even if there would be, I don't give a flying fuck. And I like it.
Here is a pic of the little gay roomie and I, taken at his recent 25th birthday bash: