"ARE YOU LOST IN LOVE?":
STEW...."It's easy to lose yourself sometimes. But, while you want to hold on to who you are..... don't forget to grow."
OK, while I DO want to be Justin, I think that being in this relationship with Peter I am going to change too and take on some of his traits, ways of seeing things, and experiencing and learning from our relationship. While we are the same age, our everyday lives are so different.
Most of my time during three quarters of the year are lived away from Provincetown, in a large university city, almost, with people from all over the world, pursuing all kinds of differing nd challenging goals. Just in our psychology program we are exposed to a broad spectrum of academics directions. As a part of the medical college here at the University our curriculum dovetails in several areas with pre-med and med students studying to be doctors, nurses and other areas of medical care, social work, psycho-therapy and -- would you believe? -- even the drama department.
When I return home on a later Friday afternoon to the Cape. . .and specifically to the Upper Cape, I mean the smaller bedroom communities on the "elbow" and then north to the resort town - Provincetown being the largest, it is quite another world. And while I am deeply rooted in my coastal New England, gay friendly mecca as it were, moving from the more cosmopolitan 'university city' I sometimes feel the concerns of a seasonal gay resort/beach community with its own gossip I find this P'town environment some what stifling and, I hate to say it, a tad narrow.
S. :: "I noticed that with straight couples the guy will have his friends and the girl hers. I find that with my relationship, I have to share my friends with him. It's a rare day that I can go out without the tag-a-long (meant in the nicest way). I love him, but sometimes you need a break."
I see this part from Stew very significant. Hadn't thought of it this way. Yes, it is very true my straight buds DO hangout with their other male friends and do have time away from their GF and her crowd, and vice versa. When I come home and am with Peter it's like his friends are now, of course my friends too. FALSE. Tho' that seems par for the course, it isn't totally true. Sure I know many of these guys pre-Peter-Justin, and so forth, but I do not like some of his friends and mind having to spend an evening with them.
When Peter comes to my place . . .and Mme Bouvier loves to have both her boys home as Gramm puts it, Peter is away from his everyday life, and though he has met many of my friends here at school, we just naturally tend to spend most of the short weekend with one another. Please, don't get me wrong here, ok? I do not think "we academics" are somehow better than the poor peons from the gay resort/fishing villages of the outer cape. . .but we are different.
At first meets my friends find Peter facinating: this real, alive, gorgeous creature who is a baker and works in the family fishing business. . . and actually makes a living this way. But it isn't long before conversation wears thin; they do not know enough about his world and he doesn't know about their world and ways. And Justin is in the middle, trying to bridge the gap. Personally, I just rather be with Peter. . . bridging over troubled waters. . . . .or stirring up them waters.. . LOL
S:: "I like the saucepan idea." At first the idea of whacking Peter. . . .weel, NO. . .but as I thought of Gary's train, some times you do have to say WHOAAAA. . .I need some space. . .to breathe on my own. . . not always sucking from the same oxygen tank. . . . . .eeewwwww. . .LOL
As for "Justin the Baker" or "Justin the Fisherman". . . .while I've dabbled. . . .and you do not make your livelihood from / by dabbling. . . how do I combine this very important part of Peter and his wonderful Portuguese family and ancestry with a future Dr O'Shea, PhD psychotherapist blah blah blah. We've talked a bit abouth this part and decided it is not an issue we need to decide on last month. . we are enjoying the NOW and live in the NOW. . . the future isn't here yet. . . but ...well. . . "but" for another time. . . LOL
It is clear while the needs are real, people do not come to a gay resort area to actively deal with their hang-ups, neuroses and psychoses. . . .they do that 'closer to home'. How will I make a living in this Upper-Cape-Cod area, without moonlighting as a baker/fisherman. . . . .which really are not up my alley? DO I want a daily roundtrip four hours on the road in going-to-going-from traffic, to the Boston-area every day? No decision today. . . . but one day. . . it will be some years before I have my PhD.
S:: "I feel your cold... I live on the shores of Lake Huron." "Oh Mister Man, the winds she blows up dere off de Lake Huron. by gar. . . ". . . .and "Here also, dahhling, across the marshes, off Herring Cove and thru the Enchanted Forest. . hahahaaaa. Some of the poor dears were out there yesterday researching. . . .saw quite a few bikes parked by the trees along the road, near the various paths inward to the Enchanted Forest. . . . .
Peter and I have a very good relationship. . . . our emotional-physicality is quite nice. Another point in his favor, Peter came 'looking' for me. hehehe. As I must have written early on in my summer Dunes narratives, one evening I was hanging out at the pool lounge at the Boat Slip talking with friends. Across the room I noticed Peter da Silva, hunky, sexy Portugese Pete, from the bakery in town. I sorta knew him from high school,. . .sorta. I kept talking, one eye sorta straying. .. Eventually he got up and came over to me and said, "Can we talk? Please say Yes. I've been sitting over there watching you, trying to get up my nerve to come over and talk with you. Can we talk?" To myself I said "You bet your sweet ass we can talk!" and to Peter I politely said "Yes, by all means, let's talk. . . .I am all ears. . .and all eyes. . . You definitely have my attention!" hehheee.
And talk we did. I never got home till near 4 a.m., we had put Commercial Street, Spiritus Pizza, and Provincetown to bed. . . it was getting light over the Dunes. . .and Peter had the early shift at the bakery. I floated home to Chatham and our big old white house on the dunes, and sat on the wrap-around porch, breathing in the Atlantic. . . man, I was in love. . . .and it was delicious. hahahaa
Oh yeah. . .Chatham. . . .a quaint drinking village with a fishing problem. . .;-)
And, I welcome any and all comments. Just be nice. . .heehee
ciao ciao ~