It has been a while since I explicitly explored a sticky…and this particular sticky is everything it represents — intrepid. It has been on the wall longer than probably 90% of the others and represents something very important to me. It was only a strange confluence of events that led me to write about it tonight.
Last night, I went to Melrose Market to get a steak to cook for dinner:
- As I pulled up, I noticed an SPD giving out tickets on the short little strip of road across from Melrose Market. Not wanting a ticket myself, I pulled in to an open spot which had clearly been a driveway prior to the construction zone that currently occupies the block. Hoping to actually be educated on the legality of parking in places like this (which are all over the city), I walked up to the police officer and asked. We ended up talking for fifteen minutes about a whole host of things — he admired my car and I admitted I was not always driving it legally. He said to me: “sometimes you need the exhilaration to remind you that you’re alive, regardless of the consequences.” (for the record, you can park in such places).
“Sometimes you need exhilaration to remind you that you’re alive, regardless of the consequences.” -Seattle Police Department Officer
- I walked over to talk to my bro at Rainshadow Meats at Melrose Market. He looks a bit like my friend Jason Wilson and this guy has got his meat game #onfleek. After chatting through lamb, pork, or beef, he convinced me to get a cut of beef I have never heard of before which he admitted was challenging to cook. It had been aged for something like two months though, and recognizing something in me I often don’t see myself, he gave me the $40 piece of meat for $10. “You of all people will figure this out — you are intrepid and you’ll enjoy it even if you do fuck it up. Thanks for being that way.” I walked away a bit gob smacked.
“You of all people will figure this out — you are intrepid and you’ll enjoy it even if you do fuck it up. Thanks for being that way.” -Butcher at Rainshadow Meats
I spent the rest of the evening reflecting on this — the intrepid and adventurous part of me that rather unacquainted strangers felt necessary to call out. As is often the case and was so here, this led to something completely unexpected — a pretty overwhelming sadness about the fact that I’m so alone.
There are a lot of things people assume about me that are true, and many that aren’t:
- I’m an introvert. Everyone assumes I’m an extrovert and that’s not the case.
- I’m not judgmental. I have absolutely zero ground to stand on if it means I’m going to judge anyone for decisions they have made. If you lack authenticity and ownership of your growth and can’t connect with real honestly, however, yes, you are on the judging block.
- I don’t think I’m hot. I wake up every single day and wish I was prettier, more handsome, more rugged, less in between.
- I don’t think I’m better than you but I wish you’d forgive me for the times I pretended I was.
This particularly blog post is definitely pointed at gay Seattle. I made a ton of mistakes, I hurt people, I was dishonest, and I’m trying my hardest to move as quickly away from that point as possible. I was the hot boy and I let it go to my head and tried to be someone I wasn’t.
And this leads me to the last perceptions I’d like to blow up:
- I had good friends in high school but I was never a cool kid. I wasn’t a cool kid in college either. Since those days, a great number of people have shown me great love, but I can’t tell you how many times I hid away from others at recess afraid to be seen; I actually went back in to the closet my freshmen year of college. I never got invited to parties. I never had birthday parties. I was largely alone. Not much has changed.
- I have an expansive network but very few deeply invested relationships and that’s as much my fault as anyone elses. I’ve never been a best man. I’m not on anyone’s emergency call list. I matter enough where my absence is noticed but not enough to be part of the core.
Tonight someone I used to care about a lot got married. I’m not at all wishing I had married him, but I’m sad that I have a past relationship that once mattered a great deal to me that wouldn’t even swing me an invite to a wedding. Not the first time that has happened.
Time to spend this week thinking about why I’m in this position. Makes me really sad. Also makes me wonder why so many others have been forgiven. I really gotta sort this out.