Wanting a better world.

The state of the world is in chaos. We have a newly elected leader that seems to rule from his hip and is more concerned about calling people names, telling everyone who’s to blame for their problems, and shutting down anyone who dares disagree with him.

I get it. People were scared of change. The world is always scared of change. Humans are scared of change. It’s not an easy concept to grasp. We are not designed to embrace change on an emotional or mental level. Our brains and hearts do not physically grasp the concept. It’s why so many people remain at jobs they hate, or in relationships that make them feel despondent, or in houses that should be condemned. People hate change.

I recently had to think about the act of having a child. You adopt one or give birth to one, either way, you have this kid. You love them. You worry about them. You even give up a piece of yourself to maintain their happiness. And you constantly hope the world will be kind to them. You hope the decisions you make and the people you vote for will make the world a better place for your children.

I am a thirty-six year old man with almost zero prospects of ever becoming a father to something with less than four legs. And I sit here and wonder about the state of the world. The idea of leaving a better world behind for the people after me is not a lost concept on me. The idea of a loving family is not a concept that is lost on me. See, this is the thing. I was raised by two of the most amazing humans to ever walk this planet. My parents built the most incredible family one could ever hope to be a part of. I am in constant shock that I was so lucky to have been blessed with these people.

I am also fortunate enough to be the uncle to three beautiful children, which feels weird because two of them are adults now. They are twenty, eighteen, and two years old, of different ethnic backgrounds from two different sisters and they are three of my greatest loves. These kids blow my mind at every turn of their lives. And I worry about the state of the world. I worry that we are leaving behind a bigger mess for them to clean up. I worry that they stay safe and courageous. I pray they stay true to themselves and find whatever path they are meant for in this life.

I am not a father, but I sometimes feel I worry like one. Because I know that my parents did the exact same thing. I believe they still do; worry about me the way I worry about my nieces and nephew. I’m sure it’s even deeper because I’m their actual child. I know that the worry and the struggle for a better world is real. We all worry about each other because we love each other.


In my life, I’ve studied and observed quite a bit about politics. In the 60’s, we had people protesting back when it meant something, we had one of the most famous leaders ask us to put our country before ourselves, and we saw, finally, the signing of the civil rights act. In the 70’s, the sexual revolution brought forth a huge push of ethics In the 80’s and 90’s our leaders tried to turn our attention as a country to our children, because that’s what the future was. We banded together to say no to drugs, fought devastating diseases, birthed the internet nation, and capitalized in technology. In the early 2000’s we banded together as a people to fight terrorism. All of these decades brought us further as a group with such lightning speed that we couldn’t see how far apart it was dividing us, each decade, groups of people falling by the way side with little hope of moving forward with everyone. We didn’t notice that not everyone was on board with the changes being made.

At this moment in America, we have people living who recall the 1930’s, the time of the depression and have seen, probably, more in their 80 years on Earth than anyone who lived the same amount of time in any other decade. It’s truly remarkable the things someone that age has seen and done.

Change. It happened and people were happy.

Change. It happened and people were angry.

Change. Is this world a better place now? Who knows? I certainly don’t. I am constantly at a loss for how our world is seeming to revert backward in time. I am struggling to believe that my parents thought this to be the better world for one of their children, or their grandchildren. I can’t imagine this is the world anyone thought their children would grow up to have.

I recently watched the movie, Hidden Figures. I was tormented by how people of color and women were regarded at this time in America. I grew up with strong and bold people for parents that made each of their children believe in themselves regardless of their gender or their sexuality. These people instilled in me the golden rule of treating everyone like you would like to be treated regardless of nationality, creed, gender, disability or disadvantage in life. I sat in horror of this film and it hit me; the 1960’s were only fifty years ago.

That is not that long. A set back of the magnitude we feel at the present time has not happened in fifty years. And to me fifty years isn’t long enough. Change is always inevitable. Technology changes within minutes. Each year we see new trends budding, and old ones come back. We as people have this weird obsession with moving forward while looking backward at times.

I struggled with this election in general. But I can’t imagine what the opponent would have done because that person didn’t win. So I am stuck with the person we have. I am not happy about it. I am living in fear that my rights as a human are about to be taken away. I believe the person in charge to be an unkind and unjust person who does not take seriously the post in which he has been appointed

This country is a beast. It will put up a fight for the people who live here to take care of it. It is a country I have believed in my entire life unwaveringly, until now. Only until recently did I question my loyalty to my country. Only recently did I question my faith in this country. As an adult, I constantly worry that the country we are leaving behind to our predecessors is a broken one, with no one claiming fault, but placing blame and accusations haphazardly instead of saying, “this is how we move together.”

I look around me and I see my family divided politically. I struggle constantly to imagine how they could think the person in office was the right person. I often wonder if there was a reason I was bestowed upon my family, when I feel so incredibly different from them. But then I talk to them, they see me, and I see them. We accept each other as we are and see the love we have for each other. I know in my heart that we would go to the ends of the Earth for each other, and I remember what I’m fighting for. What we’re fighting for. We are all fighting for a better world. And I remember to focus on our similarities as opposed to our differences. If I lose sight of that, I will have lost all hope of a future.

Love. That’s what keeps us together.

Proud to be an American

Am I proud to be an American?

When I was a child I was asked what makes me proud to live in America. I am certain I had some generic answer such as, " freedom," which I didn't fully understand at the time. Ask any child in America to talk about freedom and their answers might lead you down the path of stories that seem unfathomable to the child telling you the tale, almost as if they were reciting an allegory of legends from long ago. To fully understand what freedom is, I believe you have to not only have to fight for it, but you have to respect it.

As I grew and accepted my life as a homosexual man, something the soon to be VP thinks is something I can "fix" or "change with shock therapy," I started realizing that I was not a fully free citizen. You see the constitution guarantees me the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. But yet as a teen in the 90's, I saw a flawed system in which certain states would be allowed to discriminate against me legally because I am gay and I was certainly denied 1100 federal rights of marriage that my heterosexual neighbors were afforded. I saw a lot of older straight people saying things like "gay marriage affects the sanctity of my own marriage." I could never wrap my brain around someone who doesn't know me thinking that if I were to get married they'd be diminished in some way. And I also heard people say things like "the next thing you know people will want to marry animals," something heard during the civil rights movement when international relationships wanted to be sealed by the ties of matrimony. These people troubles me as I saw them as the majority and rarely felt that there would ever be a place for me in this world.

I contemplated my options. 1. Suicide. It seemed so hopeless but something in my gut told me I had more to accomplish in this world. 2. Move to Canada, but that felt like running away. 3. Somehow turn to politics to voice my opinion but I felt discouraged that no one would ever elect an openly gay man. And 4. Continue living my life as if I were free.

I chose option 4.

I live how I choose. I live how I want. I live how I love. And no one will stop me. No one is allowed to throw anything in my way of living my life, liberty and my pursuit of happiness.

I grew and my idea of what made me proud to live in America changed. I started seeing the world through open eyes that not everyone is accepting or tolerant. The ideals I was taught as a child to treat each other as you would like to be treated is a myth for adults. Adults are evil. Adults are petty and adults will act worse than petulant children to get their way in life.

And now there has been a shift in America.A man is about to be sworn into the highest office that used hateful speech in his campaigning that has invoked a sense from some people that violence against minorities is acceptable. They feel that this land is just for themselves. It's the spirit that because the incoming leader says it so it must be ok. Well let me assure you it is not.

I spent this week watching news reports of children chanting "build that wall" to minority students at school. I've heard friends in NYC talk about their mother's car being spray painted with a swastika and the words "go back to Mexico immigrant." I've also heard my friend saying that they've been told to go back to china( even though they're Korean) and usually things are followed up with a sensible "this is trump's America now!" I've heard of women being threatened by groups of men shouting "grab her by the pussy." And in my own life someone screamed "get out of my country you fucking faggot, trump America now" and threw things at me. Rest assured I am physically fine and have reported the incident.

However, this event shook me deeply. There is a problem going on that the media is missing. Trump and Obama are missing it, too. People are hurting and people are afraid for their lives. We are scared that we might not actually see tomorrow. There is a tone to the world right now that is difficult to explain.

It would be easy for conservatives to just cast it off as overdramatized liberal whining of losing the election. This is different. I've been through elections that my side lost, it was fine. I live through 8 years of a bush administration and a republican house and felt a million times more safe than I do right now. I'm not afraid of losing my rights as a gay man, I lived almost 35 years without them, a minor set back isn't ideal. However, what I'm afraid of is losing my life to some crazy person who thinks killing me or violating me is acceptable.

And that's where it is.

I know many republicans who voted trump because they are anti Clinton and/or establishment. But I implore you to open your eyes to see what your vote has done. Yes, you will see your part of the world just fine for economics and fossil fuels and possibly or not possibly job creation. But what was the cost of your vote? The man elected inciting violence and intolerance with hateful remarks towards many groups of people. People you are related to and people you are friends with. You know, people you love and hopefully respect. Open your eyes. No you are not bigoted or racist or intolerant, you were just mad. I'm mad too. I hear you. But hear me now.

Make us believe you.This is your time to put your money where your mouth is. If you see injustice, stand up to it. If someone you know is in pain, help them. If a friend needs to talk to you about their fears, listen. Most important that you take them seriously. This is deeper than not getting the fairy dust, unicorns and rainbows that Clinton promised us. This is our safety and our livelihood at stake. That is the reason for the protesting. That's why we are sad and crying. It's why we seem hopeless and afraid. Because some of us don't know how we will find tomorrow alive.

Make sure that you don't stand idly by watching your loved ones be attacked by crazy people who now assume it's their right to be a despicable human being. Because the second someone dies in the name of trump, I promise you will be asking yourself why? Maybe not when it's a forgettable name in the media, but when it's your friend, your co worker or your son, you will question everything about your choices. You will wonder "did I do enough?"

If someone dies, the answer will be a resounding, "no."

So I think again, am I proud to be an American?

Yes, I am. But as an adult it's much more complicated to answer. I respect the voting system. I respect people being able to have a different opinion than me. I urge everyone to respect the ideals they hold dear even if I don't share the same. Know that your ideology, religion and sentiments that vehemently differ from my own can coexist without detracting from either side. We can do this.

At the moment, I'm scared to live in America. I am proud to be here, but I am scared, words my 12 year old self never thought my adult self would admit. I dreamed of a time to just live my life openly and in peace. And I have done so until now. I remain cautiously optimistic for the future, but in the back of my brain I live in fear. I fear for the safety of human beings in this country. I fear for the future world we are leaving for our children. And I fear for the lives of those so fueled by hatred they can't do anything but intimidate, persecute, and kill.

So I ask you, are you proud of your America? Are you truly? Make me believe you. Because right now I don't. Right now the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness is at stake.

Airplanes

So, I wrote the following piece a couple of years ago. I'm trying to get back to writing something that started me down the road to healing from a difficult year. The beginning of the piece I write about my first plane ride. I remember fragments of the whole day, however, I filled in the rest that I can from the writer in me. So, if my parents read it, I'm sorry if I don't have every detail correct and my creative brain took over for a moment. Anyway, I'm going to try over the next few weeks to post the pieces I've worked on. Thank you for taking time to read what I've written and supporting me in my writing. This was the first thing I wrote. The more I write about that part of my life the more I come to terms with how things went. So, yes, this was an incredibly emotional thing to write, but I'm well beyond it and that's why I know I can share it here.


PLANES

From about the time I was little, I was always a little bit scared of planes. The very first time I flew, I was four. I remember getting on and thinking it was so cool that I was getting to travel by this crazy mechanical thing that flew like a bird. I was, like every four year old child, enamored with the idea of flying, because I also liked Superman comics. Not a typical thing for a gay adult to admit, but I was pretty into comics as a kid. Now, I didn’t follow them like the other kids and know everything about them, I just liked the pictures and all of the superhero comics, because they had powers, and Superman could fly. So, I was naturally very excited about my first flying experience. However, it didn’t go that smoothly.

My poor mother, was only thirty years old, it was the mid eighties and she was carting along three kids. My sisters ended up sitting on one side of the aisle, and since I was younger, I sat with my mom on the other side. Keep in mind that in the eighties, people still dressed up for traveling. And since this was a “dress up” occasion, the behavior ante was upped as well. This was to be treated as a church-like type of dress and behavior code, and my mom meant business. I was not raised by the type of mom who exists now, that has to be your friend one hundred percent of the time, oh hell no. My mom was my mom, and her word was final. So Sunday best? Check. Behavior top notch? Semi check. See, as excited as I was that we were going to be flying to see my grandparents, I was equally unprepared for the physical transformation that was about to onslaught my body.

The plane engines rumbled to a start and immediately scared the shit out of me. I yelped very loudly and grasped my mother’s hand in a death grip because I was certain we were going to blow up. My mom gently told me about what was happening with the plane and started to explain what was happening with the engines and how we were going to sail smoothly to my grandparents house and that all would be well. Then, cleverly, she started pointing out things outside the window, like the men loading up our luggage, or the men directing the planes who had bright orange colored cones. Anything to distract me from what was really happening. Then the world exploded. The plane started moving. I clutched my seat and tightly as I could and felt my stomach flailing inside my tiny little body. The game no longer distracted me. This was real and some shit was about to go down.

Our mechanical bird suddenly didn’t seem so magical and awesome as it did before I’d gotten on and and I wondered if there was time for me to get off the plane. Obviously there wasn’t. We paused briefly before jolting forward, to fly to our deaths, I was certain, making our way to the take off area of the airport. In reality, this probably lasted a mean four minutes at best. In the reality in my head, an eternity. The flight attendants were standing in the aisle talking about seat belts and safety features and pointing at manuals that I was too young to be able to read, and I didn’t know what to do. I began squirming in my seat, uncomfortable and unable to hold much in any longer. I knew that my mom had told me to be on my best behavior, and I desperately didn’t want to disappoint her, but I knew I was about to.

The flight attendants disappeared and the plane began moving faster. I looked out the window. Huge mistake, as I saw the horizon start to tilt, I began to panic even more fiercely. I closed my eyelids tight and clutched the arm rests on either side of me and pushed as hard as I could into the seat as I could. The plane accelerated even more and I felt the arm of God start lifting us into the air. I held my breath. I couldn’t take it. I was either about to scream or vomit, and I couldn’t decide which was worse. The rumbling in my stomach was so strong it wouldn’t take long to find out which was going to happen. And then I let it go.

I opened my mouth wide and screamed at the top of my lungs, “We’re going belly up! We’re going belly up!” Suddenly everyone around me was uncomfortable, nervous and anxiously awaiting me to shut the hell up. My mom was beside herself trying to calm me down, mortified, I’m certain. However, there were a few people around me laughing, though I wouldn’t know why until later in my life and to listen to my mom tell the story, perhaps she, too, was enjoying my meltdown a little bit more than I thought she would. I was certain I would be in trouble for making a scene, but my mom has a bigger sense of humor that I like to credit her for.

The morning I boarded my flight to attend my grandmother’s funeral, almost thirty years after my astoundingly triumphant first trip, my mood was similarly excited and nerve-wracking as that first flight so many years ago. My heart was torn to pieces over the loss of both a lover and a loved one and getting on this plane at this moment, I couldn’t wait to feel the acceleration and sounds of the nautical beast force out the pain of my heart and drown out the voices in my head. I was a shell of a human. Desolate, isolated, frustrated, and angry. Why in the world was this happening to me? But, I refused to let anyone see it. I smiled at the flight attendant on my way in, and even shook her outstretched hand. I pretended with the family three rows in front of my to be interested in what some toddler was showing off on his iPad to the passengers walking by, and gave a knowing nod to his mother that he was, in fact, the cutest child in the world. It seemed as if the world was turning around me, as all I could think about was getting to my seat, putting on some slit your wrist music, and wallowing in my heartache. And hopefully falling asleep.

Luckily, I was the only occupant in my row. It’s always a blessing to be sitting alone. No one next to me to make small talk with, or a child to annoy me with the crying or the shrieking, or worse, their stupid electronic babysitters. No, I was grateful to be alone in that moment. I thought of the first time I flew, and almost each time after that. I calculated, roughly, fifteen flights to Indiana over the years. Usually to see my grandfather, who had been ill my whole life, and eventually passed seventeen years ago, and now, making what seemed like my final trip to say good bye to my Mammaw. She was the glue that held my extended family together, and most likely, would be the last reason anyone who had moved away would have to come back.

I could see the overly eager flight attendants begin their safety demonstrations. I could hear the voice of a very friendly man begin his schpeel about listening and following safety features. I started to zone out. All I could think about was flying and my Mammaw. How when I was a kid, she’d come every year to Wyoming to visit us and my sisters and I would anxiously await her trip. Then the day would come, and we’d almost wet ourselves from excitement at the airport seeing her plane land, and racing to the gate to greet her. In my youth, we were allowed to go all the way to the gate, and somehow, it seemed so tragic how much the world has changed in the last twenty five years, and even more sad that I’m around to see it. My mortality began to sink in. My mind had succumbed to the darkness that’s always lurked, but never surfaced. From then on it was a downward spiral into the grim, bleak world of what am I doing with my life?

“Sir?” A voice was beckoning me out of it. “Sir?” I couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but I heard it again. “Sir?” This time I felt it. A hand on my shoulder and I was startled and jumped in my seat, ready to attack. I jolted my head to the left to see one of the flight crew looking at me. “Sir, I need you to buckle your seat belt please. We’re about to take off.”
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.” I buckled it quickly, and couldn’t believe that I’d forgotten to do it. It was my flight ritual of always buckling myself in the moment I sit down. I realized the attendant was still looking at me. I looked back at her blankly.

“Sir, are you ok?”

“I’m fine, thanks.” I replied coldly. “Why wouldn’t I be ok, you stupid bitch?” I thought cruelly. “Don’t I look like someone who’s flown before? Oh my god, Steve, get a fucking grip on yourself.” My mind clearly had a mind of it’s own, and I was happy for once that my mean thoughts were trapped in the construct of my head.

“Well, if there is anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask.” I didn’t notice until she squeezed, that her hand had been on my shoulder the entire time. She meant well, but I was still confused at why she was so concerned. And then I felt a drop on my hand. I had been crying and didn’t even know. Somehow in my deep despair for myself, the waterworks began and there was no way of stopping it. I could only hope in that moment that no one else had seen me, and I wiped away the tears and put my headphones back in. At least, if I couldn’t listen to music during take off, I would deter anyone from thinking I was ready to pay attention to the world around me.

I tried to bunch up the hood of my hoodie so I could cover my face and also use it as a pillow, but it wasn’t working. I settled on just covering my face. I didn’t want anyone else to see me break out into a violent sobbing mess if it happened. Outside the window, I could see the wing and the engine fire up as we started moving forward. I felt the usual pull of the place as we began to speed up. I lay my head back on my seat and stared out the window. As the ground began to move away from us, I looked up at the engine, then the sky and whispered, “please let us crash.” I waited a moment and when nothing happened, I stared at the engine and commanded in my head, “break, motherfucker, break.” Over and over again. I wanted so desperately to just not be, anymore. I longed for the release from life. This was too much for me to bear. And it hit me, I was begging for a plane to go down. Never mind all of the people on board who had families they were excited to see or were with them at that moment. Or how many people would mourn the loss of each life on this plane. I was a man consumed with the idea of an easy way out. I no longer wanted to face the struggles of my life, or my shortcomings. I wanted to just start over.

For whatever reason, I felt that I would like to die and come back as a famous person’s child. Hopefully, I’d still grow up to be a gay man, because let’s be honest, it’s a lot of fun. But, I wanted someone else to have figured out all the hard stuff, and maybe having a charmed life would be better than the life I had lived. And maybe by having the fame and fortune would somehow ease the struggle and pain of life. And there would be no problems for anyone. And somewhere in staring at the engine and pleading that it fail, I fell asleep.

I woke up to the same woman from earlier asking if I wanted anything from the cart. Apparently, I’d passed out for almost two hours. I looked at her and asked for a ginger ale. As she poured it lovingly into a cup of ice for me, I asked, “Can I have some vodka as well, please?”
She looked at me and nodded. Then pushed the cart slightly past my row and moved in and sat next to me.

“Do you think a drink right now is what you need?” At first I couldn’t believe she was asking me. It’s my life and I will drink if I want. As my head said before, what a bitch. But she grabbed my hand and I knew deep in my heart she was just trying to be nice. I’m sure when I got on the plane my eyes were filled with tears as it’s been uncontrollable lately,she noticed. I looked at her, directly into her eyes and saw her kindness. And saw her for the first time. Her eyes were a remarkable shade of blue, lighter than the sky, but not icy. Her graying brownish hair was pulled back neatly into a ponytail, and she had a lot of accents on her uniform. A highly detailed small brooch on her left side, an elegant scarf tied perfectly around her neck, bracelets, and a ring the size of Texas on her finger. Clearly this woman was loved and had style.

“I probably don’t need it right now,” and of course I didn’t, it was eight in the morning. I felt like I did need it, though. And I was somewhat mad that she was asking. She wasn’t my mom.

“Are you ok, honey?” Just the meer question made my eyes sting. I could feel it coming on and couldn’t stop it. She slid her arm around to my opposite shoulder and pulled me in for a hug. I couldn’t believe this woman who I’d just been so cruel to, granted, in my head, was being so kind to me.

“Maddie?” I heard to voice, but couldn’t tell where it came from, but looked up to see Maddie, the woman hugging me, shoo away her colleague with the soda cart, as if to tell her, ‘get away from me, I’m busy.’ And she continued to hold my shoulders until I stopped convulsing. I was mortified that I’d let a complete stranger see me in that state, and even more humiliated that I’d made such a scene on the plane. Once my eyes were clear, I could see everyone looking at me and could feel the burning questions of, “what is going on over there?” Maddie knew I could see everyone staring.

“Pay them no mind, sometimes, you just need to cry it out.” And it all began again. She was so nice to just sit with me and talk. I told her about my Mammaw, and my ex and losing my dog, and she listened patiently. She gave such knowing nods and caressed my hand at just the right moment. And finally she looked at me and sad, “I am so sorry for your loss. It’s a tough road to bear. I have to go back to work, but you need to know this. You are a beautiful soul. I can tell. And sometimes in this world we are given obstacles and challenges that make us stronger. And never forget, the good Lord only gives us that which he thinks we can handle. So, he thinks you are a tough as nails badass.” She hugged me once more and got up to walk away.

I sat in complete and utter shock. I could not believe that someone just gave up their time to sit with me and listen and just let me share my own problems. No one has even been so blatantly kind to me in my life. I looked out the window and gone were the feelings of wanting the plane to crash. I wasn’t feeling one hundred percent better, but I was definitely over the hump of wishing death upon me and a hundred other people that I didn’t know.

A moment later, Maddie returned to my row with cookies, pretzels and a second ginger ale in her hands. She set them down in front of me and said, “Here, honey, these will make you feel better.” I sat back and enjoyed every bit of those treats, and she was right, I did feel better, but it wasn’t the food.

Riggle me this, Why friendship is bad

I recently confessed my feelings for someone I've known quite a long time. Almost a decade. When we met, he was with someone and I was just out of something with someone else. Obviously the wrong time. We spent a few months together working in a small little town. By the time we finished our job and came back to NYC, he and his boyfriend had split. We remained friends with nothing ever happening between us.

Over the years, we run into one another from time to time and always had a wonderful time together. On my end, at least, there was always a little bit of a crush developing on this man. He's simply wonderful. A really great person with a beautiful heart. Obviously, we both ended up in other relationships, and now it seems it could be the serious plot for a Gary Marshall style rom com. But it's not.

See, the thing is, we kept missing moments in which we could have probably ended up together, but I'm not aggressive enough in those moments to really make them happen. I just let life pass me by without saying a word until it's too late. I even recall my ex telling me how much he hated that I hung out with this guy because he hated the way we looked at one another. I've had friends ask me over the years why the two of us never dated. And this is now where I'm at. I don't know. I simply don't know why we never figured it out.

I know, from my perspective that it could be wonderful. Then again, it might not be. However, going back to the confession, it was met with far less enthusiasm than I'd hoped. I was told, "I see you as a good friend and it's difficult to see you as more than that." Done. I'd rather have had him say I just don't have feelings for you like that. Because this is the thing. Friendship is the best place to start a relationship. If for no other reason than you are already starting something with a foundation built. Trust, respect, honesty. That, in my opinion is the best thing you'd want in a relationship with someone else and why wouldn't you want to risk that. Yeah, you might end up ruining a friendship, but you could end up with someone you never thought possible.

On the flip side of this whole thing, someone recently also came to me and asked me on a date. I've also known this person for a long time and have always navigated around his advances. And the only thing I could say was, "I've never felt that way about you." I felt like I had to be honest about it. I didn't want to say I only see you as a friend, because that can leave open a grey area that I don't want. I finally had to be honest and say, "Look, i'm not into you like that, and I appreciate your feelings, but it has to stop." I had to. Because I'd rather be honest and risk losing someone because of honesty rather than keep them around with false hope.

So, the moral of this whole thing is, friendship can be tricky. There's a reason why straight men and women aren't typically friends, it gets messy. Same goes for the gays, it gets difficult to know if you're being hit on or if you're just making a new friend. But when a long time friend comes to you and expresses feelings, and you know you've been a big part of the flirtation for so long, be honest, don't leave it open ended, and try to be open when you know it could be the best thing that's ever happened to you.

d

Riggle me this, I know not why people hate

Too many times in my life I've experienced hate. Either towards me, or in mass arenas like what we've just witnessed in Orlando. I am sick. I am heartbroken, and I am done.

Seventeen years ago, we saw the horrible massacre at Columbine. And it has just gotten worse. Recently, anti Trump protestors lit bottles on fire and threw them into the crowds of Trump supporters in San Jose, California. In what world is that a rational thought of a behavior that is acceptable? What scares me even more is those people doing that, are on the same side of the political fence that I'm on. And they think they are right. And they are fueled by such a deep hatred of someone that they wish to hurt other people, as if that is going to stop the person they're mad at.

This young man in Florida also hated. Hated so deeply he needed to kill fifty people and then kill himself. Well to him I have this to say. You are a coward. You knew what you did was wrong, so rather than face a consequence after, you killed yourself. You are a coward and not worth it. And here I am writing about him. Because I'm angry. I'm heartbroken, and I'm devastated.

It is too easy to succumb to the hate and the dark inside ourselves. Far to easy to just throw our hands up and say, "You're an idiot and I'm packing up my toys and leaving." It is much harder to offer kindness to someone who doesn't believe the way you do. Well guess what. People on the same side don't agree with each other either. I don't agree with the people for their actions in San Jose. It's not right to hurt other people, and it's against the law. Not only that, they shouldn't have to be reminded of the fact.

There is far too much hate in this world. It is a difficult place to be in for most people to begin with. So why can't we just somehow find a way to be kind to one another? Why can't we love in the name of God, instead of destroy in the name of God? Why can't we use God's name to build simples of hope and love, instead of using his name to claim land and abuse power? And why can't we just accept that we are all deeply flawed individuals and accept that it is not our right to judge the sins of others with a book written thousands of years ago? Why can't we just look at one another and say, "I see you, you may be different than me, but I see you. And you are my friend." Why can't we actually, as adults, act the way grown ups should. Too many times, I see adults scolding small children for actions they themselves exude as an adult. So why is it not okay for a child to have a tantrum, but it's perfectly acceptable for an adult.

I don't know where hate comes from. But I know it needs to end. It just needs to stop. And this whole thing about killing each other. Just stop.

PLEASE.

JUST.

STOP.

We need to stop killing each other and justifying it by religion or whatever you think makes it okay to kill someone else. Please just stop killing each other. It's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok. Got it?


LOVE is the answer.

and if you need biblical proof...

John 4:7-8

Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God.  Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love.

Riggle me this, Thank you for being a friend...

"Can't we just be friends?"

This question rings true one of my biggest pet peeves ever in the world. Recently, I had a man I was dating state this after I decided to end our dating whatever it was. The conversation went like this.

"I really think you're an awesome guy. I'd love for us to stay friends," he said while devouring a taco. We were having Mexican food.

"That's a really sweet idea," I responded slowly, "but it's not going to happen."

"What? You don't want to be friends with me?" He seemed to be surprised.

"It's not that. It's just that you struggled to get me to commit to more than one day a week with you to date you. How do you think being friends is gonna go down?"

Let me put it more bluntly. There is no way in Hell we are gonna last as friends. I have to be very clear about this. I think remaining friends works for some people. I'm friends with all but one of my exes. There are times and places when it works. My ex from college, we spent almost a full school year as friends before we dated. Cut to three years later, we broke up, and eventually went back to being friends because that's exactly how we started. That's a pretty decent example of when it can work.

But usually, it doesn't. This situation in particular, I couldn't imagine what the hell was going to happen. I could fathom what he thought we would do. Oh, no sorry, we aren't going to work out, but let's have slumber parties and pillow fights, gossip over wine, braid each other's hair and gush over boys??? Are you mad?

So no, I don't want to be friends. No I don't want to see you move on to the next person and be happy. No, I don't want to be bombarded on social media by your new found happiness, when I'm still struggling with "hold the door" from two weeks ago. No, I don't want to deal with you from this moment forward. And finally NO, I don't have to feel bad for not wanting to be your friend. Because this is how it goes. Your life story is from your perspective. You get to write me into it however you want. My life story is from mine. I get to do whatever I want, and feel however I fucking want to feel about it. So no, I won't apologize for not wanting to be your friend. I wanted more from you, and when I don't get that, I reserve the right to have you in my life to whatever degree I choose. And the same goes for you.

So if nothing else, at least I'm learning to choose the better option for myself. If I can't date you when I want to, then I'm going to just walk away. I have friends. I have lots of them, and most of them I don't see as often as I like, so don't expect me to the friends with someone when I don't really want that from you to begin with.

Recently I was seeing a young man who could have changed my life. He is kind and generous and his heart is open. For anyone who knows me, when it comes to dating, mine is seemingly not. But he was gracious with his attempt at being patient with me. We both talked about how easy it was to be with one another. But for me, my hesitation was strong.

See, for me, my heart is much more open than I pretend. Because I am able to fall in love with someone or something every single day. But when you are someone like that, sensitive to the bone, your heart also gets broken a little bit everyday. So when it comes to love, I've stopped trusting my heart. And in doing so, I've missed out on more than one person who could have been significant in my life. Maybe not a lifetime love, but significant nonetheless. And of course, people give me the usual friend speech of "oh he wasn't the right one." Or "you'll know when you find it." Well once upon two separate times, I thought I had. It turns out they were just significant moments in my life. And one of those people is still significant to me now, just in a different way.

So this recent man, had every quality in someone I would like to date. From A to Z, he fulfilled everything I desire in a human companion. Yet I remained afraid. On our last encounter he told me he felt himself falling in love with me. And surprisingly, it didn't scare me away, it made me quite happy. However, in true Steve Riggle fashion, I shut it down. I couldn't let myself take that risk to maybe someone how lose down the line. So I chose to lose immediately before there was too much heartbreak. But the funny thing is now, I've realized the heartbreak is all mine. I'm the one who did it. On the flip side though, just a mere 7 days later I left a message with him(I assumed he didn't want to hear form me) saying that I was wrong and would he forgive me for being an idiot. To which there was a long pause, or a seven day delayed response to be exact. He was now dating someone new, and out of respect of his new relationship, didn't want to really talk to me anymore.

It took him only 7 days after me to find someone else to love! For real? What kind of witch doctor voodoo love potion number 9 bullshit is that?

So there it is. How am I expected to truly fall in love with someone when no one yet has allowed me the time to truly get to know someone? To fully let things happen in a natural and unforced way. The impact someone can make on your life in just a couple weeks is wonderful, but how they impact your life once the honeymoon is over? That's a different story

And here I am. Trying hard to keep myself open to whatever comes my way, but the hope is hard to find. Because it just keeps seeming like everyone is so quick to jump into a relationship without taking the time to make sure the person they're jumping with is the right one.

I've recently seen a dear friend of mine enter into a relationship. A first in the time we've known one another. And watching them take their time getting to know each other, eliminating distractions from the world to explore with one another has been a beautiful sight to witness. Because of how my last relationship failed, I've lost hope. But seeing my friend in their newfound happiness has restored hope for me a little bit as well.

Look, I will put up a jaded front better than anyone I know. And those who know me well know how sensitive I truly am. I believe in love. More than anyone I know. But my hang ups still persist because of the logical mind I was given. So for any future loves, I just request this. Be patient with me. Be kind. Try to be compassionate. And don't be afraid to push me into the unknown with you. I'm a sucker for anyone who doesn't let me give up on myself.

Sounds like a lot right? Well Riggle me this, maybe I am.

Riggler of the day...

I am not living my most fulfilled and valuable life. And I know it.

I want to fix it now.

A poem for today.

I found some pictures in a box.
A box I hide away.
I click the lock up nice and tight
But somehow it never stays.

I see the face of the man I was
though it doesn't seem like me.
I see the man I was once long ago
and wonder how it could be.

These faces of the men we were.
Are now the signs of strangers
I try to remember the love we had
but all I feel is anger.

You are different now than you were before
And somehow I am too.
You etched yourself right on my heart
my permanent tattoo.

This reminder of what we shared
I can never let it go.
And even though I hide away
I'll forever be on hold.

Do you think of me as I do you?
And the way we used to be?
Or do you run and hide away
Pretending we're now free?

Some days are hard, for sure,
The nights are lonely too.
I can only hope that someday
We both begin anew.

So the box that I can't lock up
I store it behind a chair.
I look inside from time to time
And imagine you with me there.

This box of mine I hide away
And struggle to keep it shut.
Reminders of how close we were
And how deeply I'm stuck in rut

Will the one day we dreamed of ever come?
Or were you lying then?
I hope, I pray, I hide away
And try not to think of when.

So I push the box aside
And erase you from my mind.
As pointless as it may seem
'Cause my love for you is blind.

I've wished you well, you said it back
but did we mean the lines?
I somehow know, in my heart of hearts
You were forever mine.

And I was yours, at least for then
So why can't I let go?
And turn this box inside out
And teach myself to grow?

I'll carry on and you will too
Reminded of the past
Of how scarred we are, from the love we had
And how some things never last.

I'll push the box aside again
and pretend I don't know what's inside.
The memories will drift away
My heart, closing wide.

And back and forth, again, again
The ending is never near.
I'll take whats mine and give yours back,
this box that's filled with fear.

And once again, I'll close it up
Knowing that I won't mind
If some rainy day you come back again
Our hearts again entwined.

So I'm hiding inside this box
Afraid to let it go.
Afraid of what would happen then
And just how big my heart could grow

Nonchalance

There's an epidemic facing people my age and younger. It's called the wonderful attitude of nonchalance. It's occurring on an alarming basis and affects nearly everyone between the ages of 0 and 40, sometimes even older.

Somehow, in the age of self empowerment, it is considered cool to simultaneously keep your emotions at bay about anything other than what you do for your own self. And when it comes to relationships or caring for other people, just forget it. You're considered weird for expressing any sort of emotional attachment to another human in a romantic way. Yes, it's still appropriate to have friends, hobbies, and to want a significant other, but to actually go out on a limb and express interest in starting something with someone, nope, that's just simple not heard of.

Being the king of standing in my own way, I've been grappling with this concept a great deal lately. A few weeks ago, I went on several dates with a fantastic man. I thought to myself, "wow this guy is awesome. There could be something worth exploring here." And that thought was immediately banished because God forbid I actually tell him I liked him. He now is considering weather or not I fit into his schedule. Should I have said something or was I right in staying silent about how I felt? Who knows?

After that j had an encounter with a wonderful man who lives nearby. He seemed too good to be true. Handsome, kind, spontaneous and fun. Sadly that all ended with me engaging in unsavory activity that I'm still disappointed in myself for engaging in. But now I'm left in a conundrum. Do I mention that I secretly wanted to take him on a proper date and knew so long before j met him? Or do I just apologize,back off and move on?

It's this whole weird balance of Caring too much too soon or caring too little for too long. If you overstep in the beginning, you run the risk of scaring someone off, and if you wait too long, you run the risk of them giving up and moving on. And in both instances you are left alone. See, everyone constantly take about how they want to be with someone, but we are too wrapped up in our own shit to know when is the right time to express ourselves. So we've all adopted this attitude of nonchalance as a protection to not get hurt. And this is the struggle.

We all want to be loved. Anyone who says I'm wrong is a liar. Because if you didn't want to be loved, you wouldn't have friends, you wouldn't yearn for a family, you wouldn't go on dates, and you certainly wouldn't hook up with people. Because even in the smallest amount of time spent with someone else, we find a small bit of love on varying levels and that satisfies our need for love and affection. Everyone has that innate desire.

So then why does everyone forego the honesty of wanting more and risk taking by telling someone "hey I like you" and act as if someone else doesn't matter in their life? Personally, I'd rather everyone who crosses my path to have a lasting impact. Whether they stay in my life for 6 minutes or 6 years. Isn't it about quality connection with each other anyways?

So yea, I want to be in a relationship. I find myself falling in love a little bit or multiple times each and every day. Might not be the right thing but it can't be wrong to allow myself to feel things very deeply. No I'm not settling for just anyone who comes along. And no I'm not going to compromise my integrity for someone else. But in not going to give up and I'm certainly not going to pretend I don't care when in fact I care a great deal. I've made plenty of mistakes, and now i can hope for forgiveness from others whole forgiving myself and try to just move forward. But it has to be in a good and solid direction.

Riggle me this, why do men not call us back?

The first thing that I have to say today is that I am by no means a relationship expert. I've never studied anything about them, about people, about anything really pertaining to a relationship. I have, however, been in a few and I've learned a few things, so I feel like I'm pretty solid in the things I'm about to say.


Recently, several of my friends have shared relationship struggles with me. One person is "seeing" someone, quotations mean they are not exclusive, and a few of my other friends are trying to get to step one. My first friend is pushing for the non-exclusive relationship to turn into an exclusive one, but the other person is in non committal land. He says things like, "I'm not 100% there right now," "I"m not sure what I want." This, ladies and gentlemen, is bullshit. And you all know it. It's a man's(typically, as I don't exclude women from doing this too) way of trying to let you down gently. He doesn't want to commit to you because he's not certain that you're the right person and up to this point, you've not pushed him into a relationship and he can technically do whatever he wants when you're not around, so why would he let you just rein him in? Answer? He won't. You aren't the person that's going to do it, so why would you keep trying? Because in most cases, we all want to be loved and when we find someone we want, we all find it difficult to see what's really going on. I've done it, hell we all probably have. It doesn't make us weak or mean that something is wrong with us, it's just that we want something, probably so much, that when it seems like it's just within our grasp, we forget to ask ourselves if this is really what we want.


My other friends have similar issues with trying to get the men they're interested in to commit to just having a date. Just a simple, "we will have dinner at this time, on this day, at this restaurant." It becomes a lot of cancellations, last minute "things," or whatevers that happen that prevent them from actually meeting up. And I see my friends so excited, then immediately hurt when it doesn't pan out. And as I was telling one of my dear friends over cocktails last night, "I think you are all worth so much more than what you're getting from these so called men." It doesn't make me feel good to see that my friends are such kind, honest, generous, and loving people, and struggle to find a relationship. If that's what they want. Again, nothing wrong with anyone in the situation. It's just how our game seems to be played at the moment.


With two of these men, who are very dear to me, I want them to know how beautiful they are inside and out. Because let's face it, I don't have unattractive friends. My friends are the types of people who would make the cast of a huge movie, or a gay version of Sex and the City. All beautiful and different and just all around amazing people. Sometimes, it is astonishing to me that these people are also some of the most kind hearted, spirited people you could ever meet, and I'm beyond lucky to call them my pals, my buddies, and confidants. That's why it hurts me to see them upset, or hurting, or yearning for something more that they can't have. One of my friends even went so far as to say, "if I can't make this work..." I couldn't even let him finish. Hearing this beautiful soul cry and not able to see the potential he has within himself to make himself happy was so upsetting. I wish he could see himself the way I see him, and then we can see how high his confidence is. For that matter, I wish all my friends could see themselves the way I do. Because then they would know how wonderful and complete they are on their own. Which is even more upsetting to continue writing this next part.

Over the last few days of hearing from such close friends about these experiences they are going through, I was only able to give them solid advice because of one reason. I am the other guy. I mean, not specifically for them, because we are just friends, but I am the guy who won't commit, and will stand you up, and will not respond for hours to a text and keep you waiting and waiting. And I know that I do it, and while I'm not proud of it, I don't know how to stop. Actually I do, but we'll get there in a moment. I"m the guy who will try to politely let you down because it's not nice to say, "I like you and think you're awesome, but I can already tell that I will shit all over your life and leave you in a giant heap of horse poo and never look back." I mean, it's probably not that dramatic, but something like that. And it's not from intent to be malicious either. It's usually because of fear. Fear of jumping off the merry go round of life where every hot man comes and goes like a piece of chewing gum. And you never know which one is really right for you. It's also fear of the unknown. What if I get hurt; again or for the first time? What happens when I have nothing to show them but the real me, will they still love me?

I'd like to say most of us don't teeter on the edge of a relationship with another person for sport, though I know some men who do. But, when a man tells you that he doesn't want a relationship, regardless of the chemistry you have with him, he probably really means what he tells you. It most cases, I would advise my friends to just cut their losses and run. Then again, most people need to trust their gut instinct about men like me. Sometimes, we're worth the effort, and sometimes, we just aren't. It's all about choices and honesty. And for guys like me, I'd like to think that we are as honest as we can be, but know that it's masked in a deep amount of fear. And for guys on the other side of it, you have to make the choice about how you trust us and how you are honest with us.

Not long ago, I found myself in a conversation with a friend about a man that I like. There isn't much of a future there, or so it seems to me. He looked at me and said, "Steve, don't Miranda this." Most of you probably already laughed, but if you don't know, I'm the Miranda (Sex and the City reference) of my group of friends. I will over think and over analyze every detail to the point that I don't know what to do anymore, so I push everything away. It's what I've always done, it's how I like to roll. And when I find myself in moments like that, I hear my acting coaches voice in my head asking, "how is that working out for you?" And I smile because I know both of these men are right.



Lastly, this idea of love being a candle has been in my head for awhile. For anyone who saw Crimson Peak with me last night, you're going to think that I ripped this from the movie, but I've been trying to figure out a way to work this in somewhere and now I am, so is it coincidence, or just poetic timing? You can decide and probably judge me later for it. I'm still gonna use it. But, a candle is a lot like love. You can't leave it burning on it's own with no one home, it'll destroy everything you own. But if you keep your eye on it, it can burn for a long time. I believe everyone has their own candle. And when you meet someone, you each other the candles together. The flames may flicker from time to time, but if you both keep holding together, they will keep burning. Myself, for example, I like to get close to sharing my candle with someone, but the second I feel the warmth of theirs, I pull away. Mostly, I think because I haven't learned how to just be ok with holding my own. And that's ok. In time I will learn, and then I can share. But for now, I'm content with figuring out myself. Because I have to be ok with what I have to offer before I can truly share it.

So what's the point of all of this? I guess that I'm really good at doling out advice I should take for myself. Never lose sight of how wonderful you are on your own. If you can't see that first and foremost, don't bother bringing someone else to the mix, because then you'll just rely on them for your sense of worth. Be strong in who you are. Be kind to everyone, and above all, we need to be more honest with each other. Myself included. IN giving advice to my friends, I saw the ugly parts of myself, and saw first hand what it does to other people. So, maybe if we all accept that it's scary, the world becomes less scary because we are in it together.

Riggle Me This- Back to me...

Many years ago, longer than I care to admit to, I was a sophomore in college. I was nearing the end of my second year of school, about to transfer from a small community college to a university. I was the only person in my class who was finishing the two year program I was at and leaving Wyoming and moving forward with my life. I felt like I was hot shit. I thought I was so much better than everyone else. And for the first time in my life, knew, and believed that I was better than everyone. I really thought I had a lot of things figured out.

One day, my dance instructor and advisor pulled me aside during class and quietly said to me, "You are acting out of line. I don't know whatever it is that is going on with you, but I have no objections failing you in my class because you can't behave this way in my class and get away with it. You're a good man and a good student and I would hate this new attitude you have to get in the way of you moving onto your next school."

My first reaction was to say "fuck you!" And I even remember thinking something along the lines of "that bitch doesn't know anything." But she knew a lot more than I did, and she knew a lot more about me than I did. I was feeling on top of the world and conceited and became someone I am not. Later, we had an office meeting and when I told her how misunderstood I felt from my peers because I was the only one leaving, she said, "in those moments, come to my office, I do understand what it's like and I can help you get through it." And continued with, "You know, you don't have to say everything you are thinking. And sometimes it's ok to be asked what's wrong, and respond by saying, 'I'm just being quiet today.' Because at the end of the day, it's ok to just be quiet."

I didn't really know what to make of it at the time, but I gave it a shot. Slowly, I started feeling much better. I kept a lot of my thoughts to myself, focused on me and what I wanted to accomplish and slowly everything began to fall into place. I graduated with honors from my program and went on to an excellent university. And the words of a woman much wiser than me have stayed with me for most of my life. Until about a year ago.

Recently, I've come to realize that I've been behaving similarly to that 20 year old arrogant young man again. I've become so wrapped up in being a person that I am not and it's going to be an interesting journey to find myself again. Luckily, I have friends who are helping me on my way and reminding me what it means to be me. How it is to compassionate and how it is to be my whole self. So for arguments sake, I don't think I'm better than anyone else in this world, except for when it comes to my friends. I spent so long last year feeling so lost and at some points alone, but my friends have all reminded me that they are here, and that we share an infinite bond, and the trust and love we built so many years ago is still intact. Somewhere along the way I just forgot. But luckily they didn't let me forget for long. Because to me, my friends are the best people in the world. We have a blast together, we have hard times together, and we have a lot of love between us, and for that I will always be grateful and humbled.

There have been many aspects of my life I've allowed to operate a certain way for far too long. I know the changes I have to make and I know how it's going to happen. I know it's not always easy to change the course of your life, but dammit I'm going to, because I see how I have to be in this world and I know where I have to go. So I'm now giving myself an assignment. I'm going to just sit quietly and work on the aspects of my life that I have to. The focus for me has to shift to what I'm doing and how I'm doing it, rather than what other people are doing and how it doesn't affect me at all. I've just let it control me for far too long and because of it, I've lost some friends and loved ones along the way. Instead of focusing on the past, I need to redirect my attention to my future and how it isn't dictated by what happened yesterday, or even today. But will be shaped by how I change in the next steps of my life.

In the last few months, I've seen several people announce that they are only posting positive things on Facebook. Maybe now is the time I do something like that. Or maybe now is the time for me to just be quiet today. Either way, I'm lucky to have had so many friends along the way who help me when I fall, set me back up and push me back to the path of being myself.

Riggle Me This, Why I Don't Think It'll happen again

Lately, I've been bored. Bored with dating, bored with the studying I've been doing, bored of the gym, bored of work, and bored of trying to push myself into feeling something, anything at all. For the last few weeks, I've woken up every day and laid in bed longer than I wanted because there wasn't anything driving me to get out of bed. I'm on a path at the moment where I"m finding my own purpose and I few finding your purpose a lot like losing weight; sometimes you plateau but eventually you get back on course. So, I know that eventually I'll find my motivation again. It will come back to me, I know it will. So, I know that I'll, at the very least, figure out what it is I want to be doing with my life and the motivation will come back for work and the gym, and I'll know that I'm doing what I love. But when it comes to love, I'm not sure if I will actually try it again. I go back and forth about it a lot, but lately, it just seems too difficult to make a connection with anyone. I've found myself "in like" with someone, but I don't know if I have any interest in turning it into something more. Like anything else, it could, but it could also fail.

My first relationship that I consider to be part of my adult life ended very horribly. Luckily, that man is one of my dearest friends now. He knows me better than most people as he's been a solid part of my life for the last 15 years. We were young, naive, and thought we knew better than everyone else. We found ourselves in a situation of not being able to communicate properly and we were significantly unhappy. He was traveling into Manhattan every week to visit me from Long Island, where he lived after college with his family. The rough streets of NYC were taking their toll on me, as was the stress of him living with his family and things just began to unravel. We began to fight quite a bit, and never really enjoyed being with each other. I began to withdraw from him, and he from me. But I was twenty-three and how could love not be enough? So I did the most logical thing and I bought a ring. I know, so cliche right? "A ring? Are you fucking kidding me?" That's probably what everyone is thinking right now reading this. But for real, I bought a ring.

I didn't plan a big proposal because I wanted it to come from something spontaneous. My ex was a pretty crazy and pedantic person, so I thought the most fitting proposal would be one that seemed to come from nowhere. It was the perfect plan. We had been planned to spend some time out on Long Island and then come to the city to have a good time, which we did. The whole day, I kept the ring in my pocket and just knew in my heart that the right moment would just present itself. Fortunately, it never did. We made it back to my apartment that night and I felt the ring in my pocket and thought to myself, "well, there's always tomorrow." And just as I thought this, he looked at me and said, "I think we're done."

I was stunned. "What do you mean?" I questioned him hard. Done as in, for the day, or us in general? It was us in general.

He went on to tell me that he'd been unhappy for a long time, and somehow we'd lost our ability to talk to one another. He reassured me how pretty I was and that I'd have no trouble finding a replacement boyfriend. But a replacement wasn't what I wanted. Mostly, I just wanted my money back for the ring. Which lead me to know in my heart that it wasn't right. We hugged and I sent him on his way. The next day I called the company I bought the ring from and they accepted the return. So, I lucked out. But my life felt a little bit empty and my heart hurt felt a little hallow.

It took a few years after that relationship for me to feel comfortable being with someone again. Eventually, it happened, because I knew that it would. We were perfect on paper. Yet, I struggled to commit. Would this end as badly as the last one? Would this be better? Do I even want this? The answer ended up being yes to all three questions I asked myself. I knew I was in trouble when I met this kind man. He disrupted my plan to spend the rest of my twenties single. His smile and warmth were disarming. And his ability to just roll with my fear of commitment was surprising. So I gave in and committed.

Six years, three apartments, and one dog later, I found myself in familiar territory; living in silence. Of course we were best friends, but we'd lost that thing that made us special. I know all of this in hindsight. Going through it, I thought we'd just hit a rough patch along the way, as couples tend to do. For me, I thought we just needed a little time to set ourselves back on track. But he just wanted out. Shortly before the end, we had discussed our lease renewal in NYC and we signed on for one more year, and decided that one year later, we would make the big move the west coast. So of course I thought, "Great, we're on the same page, we're planning this big life decision together, and we can do this." I was convinced that it was all going to just work out. I knew it in my heart that it would. Which made me happier to know that the week before I had ordered a David Yurman ring because I was planning a proposal to him that summer. IT was to be on the day we decided to be committed to one another six years prior. And yes, I was going to do a flashmob, but he was going to be in it. He had once told me he'd always wanted to be in one. So I thought, "how fun, he can be in it, and I'll just show up to 'watch' and then it will turn into this beautiful proposal." It was also going to be on the brooklyn bridge, because we went on this fun adventure date shortly after we started dating and we walked the bridge and got lost and had a wonderful day.

But the proposal never happened. The day after the ring arrived, I'd had it sent to work so he wouldn't know about it, we got home from a friends birthday celebration and everything just fell apart. I asked him if we were ok and everything came spilling out. MY biggest fear became my biggest reality. I had been so certain that we were going to spend the rest of our lives together. So much more certain than I'd been ten years ago that I could not believe this was happening at this moment. How had I gotten it so wrong? Indeed I had.

Shortly after, I moved out of our home, and left behind a life that I was so committed to. I packed up my things and moved not once, but three times after that to find a home for myself. But I finally settled into a place that I feel like myself again.

So the rings. The first man I mentioned I believe knows about the ring. I think I told most people that I pawned it off. But I took my returned money and bought myself a keyboard. I'd been wanting one for so long, I was finally able to just buy it. The more recent man knows nothing about the ring I bought for him or knew of my plans for proposing, and probably won't ever know, unless he reads this. But his ring I kept for awhile. I didn't know if we'd get back together or not, so I didn't want to just get rid of it. I debated several things to do with it. I thought of pawning it off, but it just didn't feel right. I also thought of throwing it away, but that didn't feel right either. Then, I remember something I did a long time ago.

After he and I had gone on this adventure date, I went back to the bridge and put up a love lock. For those of you who don't know, there's a spot on the Brooklyn Bridge where people put engraved locks proclaiming their love for someone. So, on what would have been our seventh anniversary, I went back to the lock, unlocked it, attached the ring, and locked it back on the bridge. I took the key in my hand for a moment, and then threw it into the river. I figured that I didn't need it anymore, and I certainly didn't need the ring anymore. Yes, I could have made some money off of it, but I just didn't want to have money because of something so sad to me.

I walked back to manhattan a seemingly whole person again. My therapist had been the only person I'd told about the ring and he had told me that when I was ready to let go of the ring, I'd be able to let go of the future I would never have. I could finally take the steps towards having the life that began from this moment, as opposed to the life I was living and holding onto my mistakes. I felt like my old self even more. Even now, three months later, I feel complete in my decision and slowly feel the old sense of myself returning.

And in that moment of clarity, I realized that I was done. When people talk about love to me, I feel nothing. I don't feel disgusted, or inspired, or romantic. I express my fondness for their cuteness, but in general I just don't fell anything now. I"m just numb to it all. I find it completely uninteresting. And I don't foresee it happening in my future. Which, don't mistake for being jaded and unhappy, because I'm quite content with my life. I have a lot of love to give and I do give it away freely to my friends and my family. But when it comes to romantic love, I just don't think it's quite right for me. And that's ok.

If someone comes along and changes my mind, great. But if not, that's fine too. I will be just fine on my own. So riggle me that.

Riggle Me This,Why I'm a big fucking weirdo.

Recently, a dear friend of mine said something to me, I forget his exact words, but the gist was that I didn't date men who were the physical caliber of what I could obtain. I thought on this for a moment, and in jest I said, "It's because I like men with personalities." I made the light hearted "pretty people are dumb" joke and everyone laughed, but in reality, I think it comes down to so much more than that. It's not just 'the hot guys.' And it's not just me. But, it's somehow a combination of the two things that repel one another.

The way I see the world, particularly the gay one, is that there is an abundance of hot men who like to call themselves "masc," short for masculine. Which is all fine and good, but it seemingly dictates the way they behave in public. These men have beyond perfect bodies, hair, clothes, and obviously good looks at their disposal. They also can act like any number of meatheads from the jersey shore to anyone you see leading the cast of an action film. Their voices are "manly," and they'd NEVER EVER let you see them at a moment of imperfection. Their personalities can be a little stale and the topics of conversation range from, the gym, last nights party, today's workout, the recreational drugs they took at whatever circuit party happened last week, what trainer is inspiring them, cross fit, etc. I'm not saying that it's bad, or I'm judging these people, I'm just saying I find it rather boring. Conversations have parameters and some subjects are considered "we don't speak of that." Yet, these are mostly the men that our gay community has labeled god like or the perfect man/men.

I am masculine to a point. I don't think even the straightest men are masculine one hundred percent of the time, so why should I be? Minus the hair, I think I embody most of those qualities. I can throw down about the gym just like the rest of 'em. However, I have a flip side to my spectrum and that is I am also somewhat of a homebody, I enjoy films and theatre and yes, I will queen out to a 90's britney song better than most. But what sets me apart a step further from them is that I'm kinda weird. I'm a huge lover of human behavior, and the more secretive the better. Go figure I ended up in a career that is all about human behavior. I can go and talk to just about anyone, especially when I am certain I have nothing to lose. But beyond a "sup?" and a quick introduction to their friends, most of these guys don't know how to carry a conversation on their own. So I will quickly challenge that and be slightly obnoxious or silly just to see if I can make them smile or laugh or anything at all. I guess the weird part comes in because I'll probe about people and try to get as much personal information out of them as possible. Nothing like routing numbers and social security shit, but just things like, "are you a top?" and "oh that's cool, you do coke, can I watch you?" Granted sometimes, the conversation flows easily and I find myself a kindred spirit of sorts, but that is a rare occasion. Usually it just ends with me saying, "well it was nice to meet you, I'm going to go find my friends." I know that I can be a hard sell. Because as most of my friends know, I will say dumb shit, put my foot in my mouth, have a strong opinion, be excessively negative sometimes, be excessively positive, catch myself in an embarrassing moment, or just make a total fool of myself, and all of it by accident. So I've learned to embrace those things about my personality. And I think it makes these men I speak of weirded out because I don't follow what is socially expected of me. If I did, I'd have been out last night (saturday) at some random party having just taken molly or G or whatever drug is popular instead of being in my apartment alone at midnight painting my bedroom. I'd then have a quick nap and head on over to whatever cute afternoon Sunday party is happening at a bar. And maybe somewhere in there I'd find time to hook up with someone. But instead I spent my Sunday lying in Central Park reading an anatomy book, then walked 45 blocks home by myself because it was a nice day.

Sometimes, I wish I could be that other person, I imagine it to be a lot of fun, but mostly, I just find it boring. And it's not to say that I don't date attractive people, it's just that they might only be attractive to me, because they offer something most people don't. And I'm sure some of you are reading this thinking, "oh woe is Steve, he has pretty people problems." But, it doesn't stop with this. The thing is that I do find myself attractive, and I'll touch on that more in a minute, but I know I'm a big fucking weirdo. I have had most of my friends throughout my life look at me after I've said something ridiculous and say, "you are the strangest person I know." When I was a kid it bothered me, and as an adult I'm learning to embrace it. Except for today.

For the last 8 years I've had an acquaintance named "Bill." Yeah, we can just call him that. Bill is incredibly handsome, has a ridiculously in shape body, talented, and a seemingly nice guy. And I now have to say seemingly because over the last year of knowing him, I now realize that if you can't offer something to him, he will be polite and cordial, but that's as far as the friendship goes. So luckily for me, I now can offer him nothing to boost his social or economical standings, I offer nothing by way of career boosting for him, so I guess there's just no longer a reason to even worry about it, but for some reason I'm upset.

This is what happened. We ran into one another, and as per usual, we exchanged pleasantries, but come to find out his world is crumbling. Troubles with men, and career and various other things. To which I made a joke and said, "well you're not dead, so it's not the worst thing to ever happen." This was something I told myself last year after my break up of a 6 year relationship where I left my home and my dog behind, followed up with the death of my grandmother. It was something that got me through the darkest time in my life and helped me to make the joke. He deemed this not funny and stood looking at me like I had just bent over and taken a crap in front of him. Seeing his puzzled look I referenced another time several years ago I had made a joke similarly to the one I had just made. His response was, "I can't believe you're actually still talking. You are so fucking weird." He made a look of disgust, flung his hand my direction and walked away. And there it was. Suddenly, I was that kid getting called weird again and was confused and hurt. And I still can't figure out why I felt that way.

Regardless, I was just schooled by the nicest mean girl I've ever known without knowing it. In that moment, I realized that this person was never a friend. Yes I referenced him as an acquaintance before but at one point in history I thought we were friends. Maybe that's why it affected me so much. I thought this man to be kind and in the last year of my life, I've learned that he is just a self serving man who will seize any opportunity to have his world look shiny and pretty and perfect. And that's somewhat how I view all of those other men I mentioned before. I don't want that. Nothing is like that. No one's life is perfect and if people would just stop pretending that it is, we'd all be happier. Further more, my joke about death is funny. Maybe I'm weird, but death is sad, yes, we can all agree on that. But it doesn't have to be. My God, am I so strange that I look at death as simply another part of life and it doesn't have to be this awful horrible thing? I mean, I spent most of my grandmother's funeral last year laughing with my family and reminiscing about how awesome my grandmother was. Do I miss her, FUCK YES! But bitch was funny, and kind and she loved me more than I could ever love her, so you know what? I get to laugh. So I guess that makes me weird.

And to go back to the comment on my looks. Amy Shumer just gave an incredible speech about being attractive. If you can, youtube it. I'm not gonna post it, you're an adult, you figure it out. But, I believe I am attractive for more reasons that just the exterior I was given. Because I say so. I don't subscribe to this whole instagram thing of hash tagging certain guys and calling them studs. I don't need a hundred likes on my pictures or my posts to feel validated. Hell, I bet only a handful of people read this blog. But, the thing is, I don't actually care. I do these things for myself. So it doesn't matter if I end up on the cover of Next Magazine, or some other person wants to take my picture, or blah blah, I modeled for this person and that person. In reality, it's sad when those actions are done to make sure you feel substantial. I embrace the weirdness in me, maybe not fully yet, but I have spent a lot of time these last few years doing so. SO while I applaud your efforts to be the most gorgeous and sought after, maybe you need to fix those imperfection in your heart instead of putting them on other people. So know that if a random photographer does want to work with me, I'm sharing them as you are my friends, and it's somehow related to my business of being an actor and having anything of me featuring me in print or otherwise. It's not because I'm just looking for a quick moment of adulation from my adoring fans.

So, whoever wants to be a weirdo with me, bring it. Because we're WAAAAAAAYY more fun.

Riggle Me This, Why you Should Even Bother Asking

I'm currently dog sitting my ex dog for the weekend and staying in my ex boyfriend's apartment(subsequently the same one I shared with him for the last two years of our relationship). I already know that everyone is thinking that this is a bad idea. I thought that for a moment, too, when he initially asked me to watch this dog. However, I felt like it was the right thing to do. He was in a bind, and for anyone who doesn't know, this dog was everything to me while I was his owner, and there isn't a single day I haven't thought of him since moving out of this apartment over a year ago. I have, in the last few months, come over for a mere few minutes and chatted politely with my ex and have seen this apartment change from "ours" to just being his. Yes, of course there are remnants of me in this place and probably always will be because we shared our lives together for so long and when I moved out, I took as little with me as possible. I wanted the clean and fresh start somewhere else with little to no reminder of him.

When you begin a relationship and everything is new and wonderful, it seems as if it could last forever. Sometimes it does, and often times it does not. But when you feel like it's going to be the most amazing thing in your life, at least for me, it seemed that we were so focused on the future. And I became a "we." I hate those people, yet I became one. We do this, and we like that movie, and so on and so forth. So when it did end, I had to mourn the loss of the future I would no longer have. I had to let go of this idea that there would be this fabulous wedding and children with this man I had loved for the past six years. I had to let go of the notion that I would get to see my dog everyday for the rest of his life, assuming mine lasted longer. I had to release the warm thoughts of coming home to my partner every day, or surprising him with dinner when I was the one home first. I had to surrender this all to the unknown. And for anyone who knows me and my control issues, this is not an easy task.

I am someone who likes to know what obstacles lie ahead. I would love for my life to have warning signs so bright and legible that I don't even have to think twice about how to avoid the collisions. I mean, those signs exist, but sometimes they are difficult to see. And even when I see them, I might not be able to comprehend the meaning. However, life doesn't always have clear answers for us. Even when the warning signs are bright and legible, it's hard to see them because we're looking another direction. Then the collision can be that much worse.

Anyways, I found myself here, in my former home for one night so far, and I can't help but notice how different the world seems now. I see how right things are in the world, but I also see everything differently. Even New York feels different to me. I feel so unsettled because I know that I just have to be on this ride and I can no longer see the outcome or any warning signs that lie ahead. My world went from being an US to a me, and perhaps I still haven't figured out how to think of my life as me first. I used to think of my partner and my beloved dog's needs before my own and in many ways, that could be the main reason why they are no longer an active part of my life. But, I look around and the memories come back so rapidly it's dumbfounding. The video of my last day here replayed itself over and over in my dreams last night and the sad part is it hurts no less now than it did last year. Yet, now that I'm awake, the only day dreams I have are of the good moments I had in this home. The special occasions, the days filled with silliness and laughter and love. And the joy becomes pain and then joy again and then pain when I realize that my life is completely different.

And the worst part of all of this is that I thought I was ok. I thought I was over this. I thought that it would be a quick weekend and that everything would just go back to normal. Maybe deep down I thought this could be a good way to say goodbye to my old life and everything in it. Because unbeknownst to me, I've been holding onto this life that I used to have and have been wishing it would just magically come back to me. I hate admitting I'm wrong and I hate to know that I'm weak when it comes to a certain man in my life, but I am. I still am. I'm the one that still hurting and holding on to this pain that means nothing in the end.

Dating has become even worse for me. Because I was already someone who took his time vetting a potential partner before committing my heart to them. I need to know that someone is worthy of owning my heart before I give it to them. So when the "I like you's" or the "I miss you's" come too soon. I have a tendency to bail because I just don't move that fast. I never did and now it's even slower. I recall with my last partner, I waited for almost five months of dating before allowing ourselves to admit to being in a relationship. I just like to take my time to make sure I'm making the right decision. And for all of the appreciated, "he must be crazy for throwing you away's" that people throw my way, I still don't feel any more worthy of a new relationship than I did six months ago.

Someone asked me yesterday, "are you afraid of getting hurt again?" In some ways I am. In many ways, most people are afraid of getting hurt. In most ways when it comes to relationships, I'm afraid of hurting others. I know that I'm a lot to handle, and I won't apologize for it anymore. I can recognize in most people whether or not they can handle me, or even give me what I need in terms of said relationship, and based on that, I will either pursue it or not. Most people don't have the stamina or patience required when being with me. And maybe that's the problem. I'm not someone who needs to be handled. Maybe I just need to quiet the noise around me and focus on myself. And maybe that's why I believe I won't enter a relationship again. It's not about getting hurt, because we will always get hurt in relationships, even the good ones. Maybe it's about finding out more about me and being on my own and finding that happiness in myself before trying to let someone join me on the ride. And maybe I needed to have my emotions stirred up right now to push me forward into whatever comes next.

Riggle Me This, Why I left Grindr and Scruff behind.

Last year, for the first time in over six years, I found myself single. I was suddenly thrust into the age of virtual dating, apps for everything you can imagine, and almost no time or patience for any of it. Before I entered my relationship, I, like many of the gay men around me, used gay.com, manhunt, or various other internet sites in which to connect to one another. And now after my relationship, there are actually hundreds, if not thousands of apps in which people communicate, hoping to find "the one," or "the one for tonight."

I was never someone you would consider an "app guy." Hell, I didn't even want to jump on the smart phone wagon in the first place. Give me a good old flip phone any day of the week over this high tech crap and I'll be just fine. I mean, I do have a few games and the standard apps that come with my phone. However, as soon as an app becomes useless to me, I delete it, it's content and erase and existence of it in my life. I mean, after all, am I really going to play that game one more time once I've beaten it? Or do I really need to have a photo app I use once every two years? It's just insane.

In any event, I found myself single. I didn't really want to put myself out there, but I did, but then I didn't. And then I did again. It was a constant struggle about admitting and accepting the fact that my life was now on a different course than I had originally started. And I was teetering on the edge of a sea of apps that could either connect me to the outside world, or be a complete waste of my time. And since I couldn't make up my mind, big surprise, about if I wanted to be apart of the world or not, I joined up through the apps. The safest way to half-assedly commit to being social without actually being social.

I joined Tinder, a few of my heterosexual counterparts had had quite a bit of success on their investments of time and attention to this app. I joined grindr like any other self respecting gay man would. I also joined scruff for the same reason. I drew the line at anything I had to pay more than $5 a month for. Match.com? Hell no! But, I quickly realized the reason for joining them was so I didn't have to actually commit to anything serious. I also didn't have to leave my apartment if I didn't want to. It was like shopping. I could casually browse and ignore the unsightly outfits I wouldn't be caught dead wearing while causally perusing the items I found interesting. You know, the shirts you carry around the store for 45 minutes while talking yourself out of buying because you don't really need it in the first place, but maybe you really do like it and in 45 minutes of walking around you'll end up knowing for certain that you're going to put it back on the rack.

It was fun. Oh how it was fun. Seeing the guys I could imagine a whole life together with. And yes, I was aware that I was getting ahead of myself. These were guys who were mostly just looking for a quick one night stand. And back in my early twenties, it would have been sufficient. I could have gotten by with that. But now the game had changed. Suddenly, I didn't want that anymore. I didn't want to go back to my relationship, I didn't want to replicate it somewhere else, but I wanted a connection to someone. I wanted to know that if I decided to go home with someone it wasn't going to just be this casual encounter that would be forgotten about moments after I left the next morning. I didn't want just someone I could pass on the street and remember and evening spent with them while the couldn't even remember my name. I wanted something more that I was sure I could find. I mean, I did meet my ex on manhunt after all.

But, alas, I did not find my prince charming on grindr or scruff. Even though, I've met a handful of couples who did meet that way. But, in my experience, meeting someone on an app is a poor way to get to know them. I realized early on in my use of the apps that asking people to meet me for a beverage before bedding ourselves seemed to be a foreign concept to most, while others viewed it as a "waste of time," "not what I'm looking for," or "my boyfriend only allows me to have sex with other guys, not date them." It just started to seem hopeless. Regardless of my lack of success, I kept at it and kept at it. I continued conversations with guys that I had no intention of sleeping with and what I found was pretty astonishing. If you actually stop talking about having sex with guys, you get to know them a little bit, and you know what? We're all basically the same. Behind all of the bravado-male-ego-bullshit-i just wanna get laid-stereotype of the gay community, most of the men I chatted with wanted to find someone to be with. And not just for the night. For a lifetime.

So I was left with this sense that most guys wanted to have a partner, but since they couldn't seem to find one, they were so willing to settle for someone to spend the night with and they were all ok with this. Everyone seems to have drank the Kool-Aid on this one. Being ok with just a fleeting evening with one person as opposed to holding out for the right one. Which someone just seems to perpetuate our stereotypes. I mean, doesn't it? I'm not judging anyone who wants a one night stand or anyone who wants an open relationship. I accept all of them. I've just stopped wanting those things for me. It's like this. If I believed in open relationships, then it's my responsibility to tell any perspective partners that from the get go. Or if in several years down the road I start finding myself wanting that with my partner, it's my job to be honest in how I feel and what I want before I go and start setting fires in my relationship. But, it's not what I want for me. Nor was a fleeting series of one night stands. So, I couldn't shake the sense that I wasn't being honest with myself. Or with other people for that matter. And thus created a whole sense of insecurity within myself because I wasn't being true to me.

So, why did I have to delete the apps and my identity inside of them. Two big reasons. One. Because they're addictive. They are such a time suck and it's become such the menu of whats around you and how many feet someone is away from you that it was becoming counterproductive for me. I would be at the gym checking the apps between sets, or leaving it on while I was at work to see who messaged me. Because as much as I hate to admit this, I started craving the attention from posting a new pic or from seeing how many people desired me. As much as I don't want to be with every single person in the world, I still found myself wanted every single person in the world to find me attractive. So much to the point that I stopped taking time to enjoy my life and would sit in my room, awake for hours a night when I should have been sleeping, just to check the apps and see who was interested in me. Therefore making me sleep later and/or just be tired the next day.

The second reason is a quote. "Be the change you want to see in the world." Cliche, I know. But powerful. I've come to the understanding of what I want in a partner. One of the ways successful people in the world attract the things they want is they start emulating the things they want in their daily lives. You want to be a writer, then write everyday. You want to present yourself as a CEO, then start dressing like one. You want to do more good deeds in the world, then why wait? It's simple stuff like that. And one big piece of relationship advice I once got and ignored, and will NEVER again ignore this one; don't behave in a way you would despise in your partner. So I started questioning myself. "Would I want my partner to be on these apps all the time?" And the answer is a resounding "NO!" I would hate it if that's what my partner was doing with his time. So, the question remained, "why was I still on them?"

There are literally a thousand other things I need and want to do with my life. Spending time on an app and ignoring my passions shouldn't be ok with me. It shouldn't be ok to anyone, really. I've also come to the understanding that how I present myself to the world is in my hands. I can either be this person I became that I don't like at all. Or I can just be me; and attractive and talented person, who is mostly nice, sometimes funny, a little bit weird, outgoing and driven.

So, it may have taken me a minute to find myself again this last year and a half, but the one thing I don't need is an app justifying certain aspects of myself that I already know. And, in the two short weeks of not having these apps around, I've begun to accomplish a lot for myself. If we are truly in charge of shaping our lives, then letting small things distract us can't be worth it.

Riggle Me this, What is a Breaking Point.

Ok, so it has occurred to me that I haven't written on here in quite awhile. But something happened today that has forced me to reconsider writing here again. Today, my belief of myself and my talents was tested and I ran. I chose the path of fear and resistance and turned away from myself and let all of the doubt and cowardice win. I also rolled all of my fear, humiliation, frustration, and doubt into a weapon of spite and threw it in the face of a man that I know deep in my soul not only believes in me, but fights for me daily to be a better and more truthful human, man, and actor. That man caught my weapon gracefully, turned it into a bomb and threw it back to me where it obviously went off. I reverted back into this young horrible child I was in my teenage years. That infantile person I thought I once killed came back with a vengeance and was out for blood. He shocked not only me, but also the man who only encourages me to be better. This amazing man that I went up against is not only better than me, but wiser than me, and ultimately, one of few men who make me truly understand the value of being a man. He is simply known to those around me as my acting coach, but what he teaches me extends well beyond the realm of acting. He teaches me the sanctity of truth, the beauty in listening, and the joy in sharing ourselves with other people. He constantly reminds me of other peoples humility, honor, downfalls, and hardships. He encourages me to see the unparalleled beauty in human nature of all extremes. And most important, at least in my narcissistic mind, he reminds me that I am unique and that in and of itself is extraordinary. So today in my class, I have been stuck. I have been pushing on a breaking point and it is beyond frustrating. That's how this all began. By being disappointed in myself as an actor. I was struggling to do that thing we call acting. Which is essentially tapping into our emotions. (it's more complex than that, but I'm simplifying). I was stuck, at my wits end, and instead of allowing it all to come out, I held it in, I bottled it up so hard that there was no telling where the eruption would happen. It could have happened later in the day, to some unsuspecting person on the subway who just happened to cut me off as I was walking. Or to some poor cashier who asked me some asinine question regarding a loyalty card. Who knows? Well then it happened. It happened and was directed full on at my teacher who deserves more from me than a childish tantrum. He deserves first my respect because it is his studio, but secondly my trust in his teachings because that's what I'm there for. I'm there for his guidance, his expertise and if I'm not going to accept it, then what the hell am I doing there? Luckily for me, I am being taught by an ever forgiving and caring man who understands that this process is difficult and can be upsetting at times and there are fights in general between him and students. Usually with him asking, "You've been doing the same thing for twenty something years and are getting no results. How's that working out for you?" And I've seen him go to battle with several students, but for some reason this one seemed worse, and not because I was the on the receiving end of it. Because I knew that how I spoke to him was uncalled for, unjust and downright mean. It was uncalled for and I am forever disappointed in myself for not having been the man I know myself to be in that moment. If I could go back, I would take a breath and continue with true curiosity of wanting to get better at my craft and then continue on with class and I would learn. Even though I know that I learned a great deal from my moment of weakness. Trust is not an easy thing for me. For whatever reason, I was not born with this innate sense of trust for people I should have. It's ok. It's something that I've had to learn how to do. I have to choose trust on a regular basis. I have to choose to trust in myself, my family, and my friends. I live in constant fear that my trust will be broken as it has many times before. But this last year of my life, I've learned that there is trust in my life that no matter what, will never be broken. And so now I'm choosing to trust this man in my life. This beautiful soul that honors me everyday with the best that he can give me and my fellow actors. I choose to know and accept that he will guide me and teach me through my failures and that even if I fall, I won't die. that's a little dramatic for sure, but nothing will happen if I fail. I will only move forward from it. As he's told us a thousand times, I've been doing the same thing and getting nowhere, why not do something else. Take a risk. So my risk is trusting him. The worst thing that could happen is that I will end up right here where I started. The best thing that could happen is I could actually get somewhere with my life. And since i brought up trust, I have to mention that later in the day, I was on a break from work and I called my mom to just vent about my rough day. My father picked up her phone instead and encouraged me to talk to him instead. He listened to me ramble and just when I thought I was boring him he said to me, "Steve, I would like to meet this man. You've clearly met your match and I think that's awesome." He went on to ask me how I can make things better. I said, "I have to show up and do what I know how to do." He replied, "Well then suck it up and do it. You chose this and you know how to do it. It's tough, but this guy sounds like he knows how to push your buttons. You need more of that in your life." It really hit me that my dad got it. There was a point in my life that I was an absolute asshole to my parents. And today's "moment" as I will call it chalks right up there with my teenage behavior. To that my dad and I both think that I'm lucky my teacher didn't punch me square in the face. I deserved that. What I didn't deserve, but received was forgiveness from my teacher. And I know that is something that impressed my father. As my dad was saying his goodbyes to me, I could tell in his voice that I have his unwavering support, as I've always had, and I just felt so lucky that this is the man who raised me. Another thing today making me feel unworthy. But as he said, "Well, I'm glad we talked today, call me anytime," the tears began to well up in my eyes, and fell down my cheek when he followed up with, "I love you son." It killed me. To just not only hear the words through a phone, but feel them. I choked up and squeaked out an "I love you too," back to him. So Riggle me this, I'm a lucky son of a bitch today. And I need to turn this knowledge into action. And I could not be more grateful for two men in my life that I know will have my back and challenge me in many ways, Matthew Corozine and my father. I'm lucky that I have role models of what I want to emulate for not just my professional life, but my life as a man in this world.