So here I sit in Las Vegas, it’s 7 p.m. in the evening, night is settling in, the bright sun has been replaced by the bright neon and flashing illumination that Vegas is so famous for. I’m at the New York New York hotel, my room on the top floor looking out at the airport, quite a sight.
My work day is done, my business colleague jetted back to San Franciso. I’m alone. Hotel is paid for. My return flight booked for tomorrow early afternoon. Now off to do some prowling, right?
Nope, I’m depressed, packed up, heading to the airport in a few minutes, will stand by for the red eye back to Washington. Leaves at midnight. I gonna go sit quietly at the airport. Flight likely to be packed, my status will ensure I get on. Some slob likely in the middle seat next to me, wearing a T-Shirt and short pants will no doubt be my mate for the return voyage. Suspect that’s going to complete my experience. I’ll leave for Europe Saturday.
I’m mad at myself for being unable to make a decision for which direction I should go, straight or gay, right or left. But thinking a married guy prowling around in the gay world, can’t do that. Just it’s not freaking clear to me and I’m royally pissed about it. I have, indeed, entered the twilight zone. It’s not clear where I am, how I got here and more important, how I’m gonna get out of here. I want my answer and I want it now.
Brian (my now not present therapist) had indeed warned me about the swirling tides of being caught in the middle. I dismissed his warnings, I’m a strong swimmer. The amusement part of this is now all gone, the party is over but my band is continuing to play on. Why is this so difficult? This blog evident of my ways would allow any jury to quickly come to a unanimous decision. But am I steadfastly refusing to admit something to myself? Am I simply scared of the consequences? I’m starting not to like myself.