Dinner with Friends

I wasn't aware that I'd been coming off as stand-offish.  

In fact, it was only this afternoon, while talking with John was it brought to my attention.  As I'd mentioned in the previous post, this weekend, John's friend--Kerry, from Seattle was in town and staying with us.  Kerry flew into L.A. to see about a prospective job and to settle some personal affairs.  While in Southern California, he drove down to San Diego to visit.  John informed me that it had been over two years since the two of them had seen each other.   

So this afternoon, John mentioned that while it wasn't my intention, I hadn't spent much time with them.  Friday night, I declined their invitation to join the two of them for dinner--instead choosing to dine alone.  Much of this morning was spent with me talking on the phone with Lucy while the two of them had breakfast at the cafe across the street from our house. I stayed home when the two of them walked to the market and when they returned, I was preparing to head out--once again, only this time to get my hair cut.  

"I'm just saying," John told me while getting ready for an afternoon nap.  "If you could at least sit and talk with him--just hang out, for a while.  It would be nice."  

I figured the two of them had a lot to talk about.  Nevertheless, I apologized for giving the wrong impression and vowed to correct it.   Kerry offered to cook dinner for us later that evening.  "He's a wonderful cook." John told me.

With John in the bedroom, napping, Kerry and I sat in the living room talking.  We talked about Seattle.  I told him that I lived there for 5 years, when I was stationed in Bremerton.  We chatted about colleges and I shared with him my intentions to attend UC San Diego, once I finished at City.  Our conversation moved from the living room out to the terrace where we chatted some more while sun bathing.  

Dinner that evening was a delicious beef brisket that Kerry grilled, a Middle Eastern bean salad in addition to a fresh garden salad.  There was plenty of wine of course and the three of us, along with Miss Lester (who'd made it her duty to circle the table with the hopes of receiving a piece of the brisket) set about stuffing ourselves.  It wasn't long before we realized that the three of us had eaten almost everything on the table!  

And that's when the phone rang.  

Our friend, Jay, who was in Anaheim at an Angels game, called to let us know that his train had arrived back in San Diego and that he would be able to stop by for dinner after all.  

"I can only stay for a short while," he said over the phone.  

Jay arrived shortly thereafter.  Luckily, there was enough food left for a plate, but there would be no seconds for Jay.  He gave us details of the Angels game, talked about his train ride from Orange County back to San Diego and laughed at the small portion of dinner that we'd left him.  Another bottle of wine uncorked and the conversation continued to flow.  We were having a great time!  Four men, connecting and sharing.  Bonding and enjoying each others company.  It couldn't get any better than that.   And that's when it dawned on me.

While in the previous post, I'd written about not looking forward to Gay Pride weekend in San Diego.  I'd talked about how I didn't need a parade or parties or music to remind me of my homosexuality.  While that still remains true, what I do desperately need--crave, is connecting with other men.  I live for it.  I truly enjoy sharing pieces of my life with other men and I enjoy it when they share pieces of theirs with me.  I love the connection.  That's what Gay Pride means to me.  Like I said, I can do without the parade and party rigmarole, but I love the connection.  The bonds that are formed, the new friendships that are created and the memories that come from those shared moments.  

After Jay left and Kerry headed downstairs to the guest bedroom and all the dishes and leftovers had been put away, I shared my revelation with John.  I'd finally realized what Gay Pride meant to me.  He smiled while I babbled on, happy that I'd figured out what was missing.  Even while I sat next to him, dabbing my eyes with what was once a Kleenex and trying not to cry anymore, John just lay there with a big grin on his face.  I'd finally got it.  It was like finding something that I knew I was looking for; only I didn't know how I would recognize it when I found it.  It all seemed so clear to me.  

Happy Pride 2008.