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An journal entry from March 2002 about me and a guy I loved and am not dating.
[1,353 words]
Gay & Lesbian
Dorra Della
[July 2002]
[email protected]
Dorra Della

Dear Creations:

  I am writing my first journal entry in several weeks as I pass in and out of consciousness here in Dundee, Scotland while recuperating from several ailments, including a weak heart, kidneys, liver and several other afflictions like loss of blood and intense migraines. I've been thinking a lot about Ivy lately and the prospects of our future, or lack thereof. Ivy has been seeing this guy he is interested in romantically named Anthony. I have never met Anthony, or rather I cannot recall ever meeting Anthony, but as I do vaguely recall Ivy's mentioning of him to me several times up to and including the day I left for Florida, I know how his feelings for him stand. He mentioned to me that he wasn't going to sleep with Anthony because he didn't want to ruin anything that could possibly happen in the future. Meaning, at least to me, that since we have slept together a number of times, there could never be anything between us (not that there is anyway), because we have already participated in such acts.
As the pain killer's set in, my memory becomes more and more diluted, but I do recall a time where I wanted to tell Ivy just how I felt about him. I wanted to tell him just how much I loved him and explain to him how I always have and always will regardless of how he treated me from time to time. This journal entry will possibly be my last for a long while, possibly ever, and it is for that reason that I will pour my heart out and confess all that there is to confess. The things I couldn't tell Ivy, The things I was all too afraid to tell Ivy and the things I never thought I'd be able to tell Ivy, I will put in words. Words he will never read.
My first confession is my most important and most blatant. I love Ivy and have every since I first met him and fell even more in love with him after we had sex for the first time. I also have feelings of animosity towards Ivy due to his apparent and almost hurtfully blatant way of letting me know that he is out for himself and himself only. I must admit in what may very well be my final journal, that Ivy has told me things like "I only love myself," "I don't believe in love," "Don't love me" and all those things I thought were to be a cover-up. A way of putting an unbreakable wall around his emotions as to not allow himself to become hurt again. Apparently I was wrong. My studies of psychology must be strengthened because I obviously had Ivy figured out all wrong. It is my understanding that maybe he doesn't have an unbreakable wall. Maybe this is this the way he is, was and always will be and decided to show it to me for reasons only known to him.
I must confess, although Ivy and I are not together and owe each other nothing, I didn't like being invited to a club only to be left in the dark for Ivy and his pal to search for another guy. Grant it we are not together and he owes me nothing at all, the manner in which he left me was inappropriate and unthoughtful. Instead of saying "hey, I'm gonna go try and talk to this guy," he says, "well, I'm gonna find a man," and bolted out of there. Real charmer. That is what I wanted to hear in a strange place moments before being left alone to either pick up a man of my own or high tail it out of there. (The latter I would have chosen had I not been approached by an attractive boy named Eric who said he saw how I was ditched and didn't feel I should have been alone in such a huge place.) As odd as it may seem, had it not been for Eric, that entire evening would have been a total bust. A complete disaster. It is for that reason and that reason only that I am forever grateful to Eric for pulling my heart out of the sand and allowing me to finally see that Ivy and I were nothing but what queers like to call "fuck buddies" and will never be anything more. If the day was to ever come that that was to change, my heart will surely stop.
I must also confess that I am angered by some of the things Ivy has said to me and angered with myself for not speaking up about it to him while I had the chance. I am upset with myself for not being a man and walking out on Ivy like I wanted to, like I had ever intention on doing when he told me that was he going to hurt me. I am angry that Ivy doesn't seem to have anything nice to say about me. I am angry that I feel the need to be accepted by a guy who although he is no Howard Stern, is seemingly very full of himself, cocky and hurtful in his way of putting things and phrases. I am upset that I love a guy who has not passed up the chance to say things like: you smell, I don't like your hair, you need to wear cologne, you need to learn how to dress, you need to take a shower, ever hear of breath spray? and my favorite, just after working out and he called me he told me and said with a serious tone "I don't like the way your body smells." As I look back and think with the clouded memory I am clinging to, I cannot recall one positive thing he has ever said to me. When I asked of he cared about me at all, he simply, blatantly and flat out said "no."
I am upset that Ivy drooled over pictures of my cousin Chad and laughed at me and asked if I were jealous and instead of just saying no, saying something like "whatever." Which is something he would say to me. I am upset that he feels the need to say that he is better looking than I am. As I lay here with tubes in my arm, tubes down my throat and machines attached to every part of my failing body, I wonder if what my Mom is saying is true. Maybe Ivy has been thinking of all these things himself and feeling bad for me. Maybe he feels that these are the last days of my life and feels the need to make up for some of the terrible things he has said to me. Maybe, just maybe, there is some truth to what my Mom has been saying. Maybe he is more attentive to me because of my failing health. And if that is solely the case, I would rather die than to hear sympathy from him. I often wonder, as I am now, why I never told Ivy how I felt about him. Then I realize looking back that I would have been a damn fool to open up my heart to a person that has every potential of hurting it. I used to think that Ivy was in some way protecting himself from love by shielding himself in an unbreakable wall of cruelties, now I am not sure what to think. I do wonder from time to time, however, where Ivy and I would be today if I wasn't sick. Then I remember that he is with Anthony and the only thing that would be different now if I wasn't ill would be that instead of being here, I'd be at home hearing story after story of what he and Anthony did, is going to do, want to do and have planned for the future and even possibly hearing an all too familiar line from him, "are you getting jealous."

PS: Conscience makes cowards of us all!


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© 2002 Dorra Della
July 2002

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