February 21, 2003

The heart wants what it wants


I met a man tonight that, throughout our evening together, reminded me again of a weary line. The heart wants what it wants. So many take that as truth, as did I at one point. Of course, you have to question why it wants, how it tells you. I know that a sixteen year old heart has no idea what it wants; I have serious doubts that the twenty-one year old heart knows; I question whether or not the fifty-six year old heart is certain.

There is a college drama conference just North of Seattle right now. My cousin, Christopher, is there; so I went up to see him tonight. I expected us to just hang out; he took me to a ravette. I don't think I have to tell you all that I am not a member of that whole scene. After being approached by someone whose sex I may never be certain of, I decided to leave. I smiled and nodded, trying to be very polite, until I was asked a question. I waited through a long pause and a quizzical look from . . . this person.. . , I finally replied with "ß íå ãîâîðþ àíãëèéñêèé ÿçûê." and excused myself. Some fun.

As I headed out, I was approached again, this time by another member of my cousin's convention. This time, certain that this was a man, I talked to him for a minute. He was nice. He was Alaskan. Ha ha ha. Some fun.

This man was a Brandon, and we decided to go for coffee. We had been talking for several hours when he invited me back to his hotel room with him.

There was a time when I had no qualms whatsoever with accompanying a strange man home. My heart, at that time, wanted someone near me. My heart told me to seek the thrill and danger of slipping out before first light; and I believe to this day that there is an excitement therein. I wish something - anything - would give me the same thrill that sleeping with a stranger provides; I'm sure there is, but I don't know what it is.

Without stalling, I told him I'd love to. After all, that's not promising anything, right? We talked more on the way back, went up to his room, talked more in the room. Nothing - not even the slightest stirring of the adventure I once boxed with in the same situation. In that moment, I realized that my nineteen year old heart knows nothing of life, little of love. My fifteen year old heart was more certain of what it wanted. I waited for an opportunity to leave.

This man - this Brandon - was wearing a bracelet. The club we met in gave them to people over 21 to identify who could drink and who could not. Knowing this, I asked him what it was. He told me, so I asked him his age - 24. I feigned a "Wow", leaving him with a question about my age. "Seventeen."

Let me tell you - there has never been anything so phenomenal as the look on his face. Needless to say, I went back to find Chris.

I know my posts are tedious. I wish sometimes I led a more exciting life, but doubt I ever will. That's usually okay with me ~ I just hope that my heart comes to know what it wants, why it wants it, and how to get it.

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