*

Ricky,

You were the first guy I ever topped for love, for pleasure, instead of for cash. You never got to fully know that in life-- the context surrounding all the other times was too painful, too shameful, to share with you. I didn't want you to have to know me that way; to see me as someone so pathetically desperate. I didn't want the shame I felt to be something you had to feel.

So you thought, in life, that you were the first guy I'd topped in a long time. Everything else was true: that I felt nervous about it; that I felt silly being so small, so slight-- especially compared to you-- doing something that seemed to evoke such power. For one, I wasn't used to having any kind of power at all. It felt wrong. In retrospect I know there can also be a sort of power in making guys want to fuck you, but even that hadn't felt like power for most of my life at that point: just something that was always assumed to be on offer (even now, it can be such a double-edged sword). For another, it had been a long time since I'd done something I wasn't fully confident in, sexually. But you wanted it, you felt confident I could make you feel good, I loved you, and you made me feel as comfortable as I hope I made Greg feel taking it from me. You helped me learn that it wasn't just about power, or sometimes not about power at all-- just a different kind of connection. A different way to know your body, my body, ours together. I hope I can be as good of a teacher as you were.

I didn't expect this to make me miss you so much again. Sometimes I still wake up and miss how you feel, miss looking at your sleeping face, miss saying good morning to you in bed. It doesn't crush me anymore, though. It feels like a reminder that you're still with me, in my heart. I love you.

Always,

Julie

*

I don't know if it's the same for Greg, but after that night in New Orleans, singing with him, performing with him, has a whole new level of meaning and connection. He's had me and I've had him (the natural reciprocity of giving-and-taking is really something I like about gay sex-- tho maybe something that makes straight people nervous about it). I sing with him, to him, with all that in mind, in my heart. When I sing alone, I lose myself in it. If I'm having a good enough night, it's like I can reach out and touch something divine, bring it back down to earth but also still be up in it somehow.

When I'd sing with Ricky, it was like taking his hand, touching that magic, that divinity, together. There are moments now, with Greg, where I also feel like I'm taking his hand, showing that place to him, feeling it together. It's gotten me in such a good mood generally; I feel more than ever that I belong here. Not just with Greg but with all of them. Even Nate, despite his recent odd moodiness. I've tried to be friendlier with him, to hang with him more, to give him extra little stolen things-- friendship between magpies-- and it's made a little dent in his mood but not good enough of one. Maybe it doesn't have anything to do with me. Even if it doesn't, I'd still want to be able to help him out with whatever it is he's dealing with. But no, he's a big (HA!) man, he has to stew in silence or whatever. Oh well. Everyone else has been great, and everything else has been, too.

*

Nate was still moody today around me and it was making me so nervous, I was thinking about it the whole damn day-- I hope it didn't affect my performance too much-- and then in the end, he finally said, in a kind of poorly masked exasperation, that he hadn't expected me to "pull THAT many chicks". I couldn't help but start laughing near-immediately, that I was nervous all week and he was grumpy all week over something so stupid, even more stupid than he likely knew. I ended up telling him that I certainly wasn't greedy with girls, that he didn't have to worry, and he said it didn't matter what I thought because they were all lined up outside my door no matter what I thought!! And yes, they are, and it is a bit awkward, because I can't turn ALL of them away for obvious reasons. But I've had some lovely conversations, I've seen some very interesting, creative ways to show off breasts, and sure, I've signed a few, too. Maybe I should gas up Nate and the rest around 'em more often?

On the other hand, he seems to have that typical straight guy's understanding of women's attraction to men being driven primarily by a particular kind of "look". Not to say that looks AREN'T important-- just that they're not everything, and attitude and vibes are just as important. Also, girls generally DO dig a guy with a guitar, so to me, that means Nate needs to shape up some! At the time I was nice about it, though, and told him that a lot of the attention towards me was just that I was new, and that it'd even out again soon. Likely true anyway!

*

Two interesting happenings today! One-- well, Sam came out to me. As bisexual, specifically. He was understandably a bit nervous about it-- he could've read me wrong, I could've been one of those sorts that looks down on bisexuals[23], I could've just been a rat-- so I did my best to let him know that I would never break his trust in me. He wasn't interested in anything sexual, just needed someone to confide in. Asked him if he wanted any pointers about cruising on tour or anything of the sort, and he wasn't sure yet. Still let him know that it was easy enough to bring a guy around to wherever "for drinks"-- already innuendo for pot or coke[24], double-innuendo in my case, and that I do it fairly often, interspersed plausibly enough with girlie-chats with groupies. Have fun where you can, right? But don't let Walt catch wind of it. That's what I told him. He'll get there. Either way, it is very nice to have another queer around. I can let more of my guard down around another person (and so can he!)!

Nate, meanwhile, got drunk and admitted that he wasn't just upset (jealous) about the girls-- really, it was more that the band was created as a vehicle for his guitar playing; he was the centerpiece of it. He was used to that and being the center of Walt's praises, and then I came along, at Walt's urging, and became something of a new centerpiece. Then I started writing things on my own instead of simply being a co-writer for him or Greg, and one of the things I wrote got big, so now I was even more of the centerpiece, so now Nate apparently has to hear Walt singing my praises every time he sees him (what Nate doesn't know is that I don't get to hear ANY of that from him!!). I let him know that I've always adored his playing and that I try to sing in a way that complements it as best I can, that I do my best to showcase him on stage whenever he improvises a new lick or goes on one of his solos. Told him that I wanted all of us to succeed with each other-- that any "centerpiece" stuff was just advertising. Calmed him down enough that I think he accepted my reasoning, at least for the time being.

All I said is true, too-- his playing's always been shockingly beautiful. Being able to connect with that more and more as time goes on, understand how to sing with it more and more, has been so gratifying. The way string instruments can bend around (or wood/brass instruments can sort of slur into notes) and Nate's pedals and effects can imitate or complement various vocal techniques/lines/melodies is sadly easier to connect to for me than piano playing (keyboards can do some pitch-bendy things-- but regardless, it's Greg's voice that I connect to). The person attached to the guitar in this case can sometimes be a careless pain in the ass. But I can live with it for all he gives me, and I do hope he at the very least feels similarly about me and my voice.

*

Show in Detroit, so I could finally give Ricky his flowers. Told Phil I had family business I had to attend to for an hour or so and thankfully got the go-ahead without any push-back. So I went to the nearest flower shop I could find, hailed a cab to St. Mary's cemetery, and stayed with Rick for awhile. Caught him up on everything. Sang him If You Need Me with the original non-label-friendly lyrics, got thru it all before tearing up. Told him that I'd always love him, and that it doesn't hurt as much anymore. I think I can live, for him. In the beginning, I felt guilty-- excruciatingly guilty-- simply by being alive. Later, I felt guilty for doing anything for myself. Now a lot of that has faded, and I don't feel guilty about that. Being with Ricky and giving him his flowers (his favorite colors, the colors tree leaves turn in Michigan autumns) helped. Somehow I could tell that he's proud of me, that he's happy for me and wants me to be happy, that he wants me to keep going.

Made it back in time for everything else, and that feeling of peace stayed with me. I'm glad none of them know about any of this. I wouldn't want any of them trying to say anything or comfort me (of course, he would still just be a "friend" if I told them anyway and I'd hate to lie about the love of my life that way; it always feels better to say nothing rather than lie in his case). Nothing needs to be said, and his place in my heart doesn't need to be disturbed. It's our little place and it always will be.

*

[23]Personally, I don’t care what kind of gay you are as long as you take time to understand what we’re all about, dig it, treat everyone well, and don’t tuck tail n’ run at the first sign of trouble.

[24]I pass on the coke, and technically speaking the other guys are supposed to as well, but you know how that goes...