(fiction with a touch of realness)
Turning 60 was a mind fuck, but not because I was older. It wasn’t the aches and pains that were my new constant companions. It wasn’t family, they were as aloof as they’d always been. Friendships had benefited from longevity and a shared history, and for that I was grateful. It was the reality of being a single gay man in a world where older single gay men primarily want to be with pretty young things; arm candy they can parade through high end restaurants. I knew this when I decided to go to a gay club in Barcelona when I was visiting there last month. I knew that I wasn’t 25 anymore, my hair was growing, but on the wrong parts of my body. I still loved music and dancing, but I was shy about the old moves that were no longer trending. I was certain I would walk into that club of 200 gay men and that I’d be completely invisible. It would almost feel as if I were shrouded in a cloak that rendered me unseen. I knew this, but the lure of possibilities was stronger than my fear of being invisible.
I paid the cover fee and rapidly walked over to the bar. My fear was quickly realized as I stood there for what felt like light years, completely unnoticed. The young, shirtless, hot bartender approached several boys without even a glance my way. I fought the urge to flee and remained steadfast in my mission to finally get the bartender’s attention. I wondered if I should confront him or push my way ahead of some of the boys directly in front of him. I opted to go the martyr route and passively waited, rolling my eyes and sucking my teeth. He eventually saw me and asked me what I wanted. I ordered a double scotch on the rocks thinking that the opportunity may never present itself again.
Drink in hand, I dragged my wounded ego to a corner of the club that was quieter and darker. Beating myself up came easily, hiding even easier. I sipped my scotch and scolded myself for thinking that there might be even a remote chance of meeting a stranger. I considered leaving several times, twenty times to be exact. My head was bowed, shoulders slumped, and a frown permanently plastered on my face. I was aware of these things, but since I was invisible, it didn’t matter. I took out my phone and read my emails; disgusted, pathetic, defeated. So involved in my own melancholy, I didn’t notice the man standing in front of me.
“Do you mind if I sit down?”
What? I asked.
“Do you mind if I sit next to you?”
Do as you please, I said.
He extended a hand and said his name was Carl. I looked around to see who Carl was talking to.
He said, “And you are?”
I’m David, I replied matter-of-factly.
“Hi David, are you okay?”
I was immediately defensive. Why wouldn’t I be?
Carl was unguarded and looked into my eyes. He said, “Would you prefer to be left alone?”
No, no, I said, you caught me off guard. I didn’t expect to speak to anyone tonight.
We spent the next couple of hours getting to know one another. I shared some of my manic thoughts and Carl listened. He listened hard. He told me that he had similar thoughts not too long ago, but felt emboldened after fighting testicular cancer. His cancer was in remission. Realizing how uncertain life can be, he no longer cared about what others may or may not think about him. Carl was free and for a brief moment in time, so was I.
I’ve joined a writer’s group here in the Algarve. On my first meeting with the group, the facilitator provided a prompt for our first piece. It was an interesting process of sharing what invisibility means to each of us. We were asked to spend some time alone (in a beautiful and inspiring setting in the hills of the Algarve) writing a piece which we would later share. My group provided praise and support for the draft edition of “He Saw Me,” so I decided to clean it up and share it with you.
State-of-Mind
In a pretty good place actually. Still some sad moments, but I know that will be the case for some time. What do they say, “It’s the price we pay for love.”
Some trips planned for the fall. Still considering there might be a hobby I have yet to discover. I guess we’ll see. I’m looking forward to the fall.
“This strangely still pause between summer and autumn, greenery and gold, and the heat and rising wind that is once again readying itself to rush it all away in a climactic symphony of color and scent is—in my opinion, one of the best parts about living on earth.” — Victoria Erickson
