Hold Me Now

I lie awake most nights because I’m too scared to fall asleep. My sense and fear of loneliness is that overpowering. At the end of the day, all I really want is someone to hold me. Then perhaps I’d feel safe enough to close my eyes (for more than four hours at a stretch).

What is it about someone’s embrace that provides a sense of security much like a blanket offers a child? Someone familiar. Or, at the very least, someone who seems familiar.

I’ve spent years in therapy trying to chip away at the concrete surrounding my heart. A wall recently came down during a most unsuspecting moment just as a little boy tumbled off his father’s shoulders and smacked his head on the pavement. In the chaos that followed, I found myself completely enamored with the way his parents (despite the tension and panic) spoke to each other. Each reacted in his and her own way, but they both managed to stay in remarkable control of their feelings. They showed compassion and respect for each other.

Most homosexuals I’ve encountered lack that emotional capacity (including yours truly). That’s why we move on from one guy to the next, treating this homo and that other one as a means to an end with complete and total disregard for the outcome. How are we so careless towards one another? 

I don’t believe in much, but I’ve always maintained that the more we experience, the greater clarity we have on the life we want to live. Not only do I want, I need a boyfriend (partner) who’s tender, patient, and nurturing. By no means does that mean settle. Quite the opposite actually. Sensitivity arguably provides more comfort than muscle and a manly physique could ever dream of offering.

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