Empty Hope (Previously Recorded)

I was cleaning and I found an old diary. Moleskine. I remember it costing a bit. Read through it, and it speaks for itself:

January 1, 2004

Austin, TX- Laying with S watching VH-1. I'm looking at a sexy patch of skin and he doesn't know. S told me this'll be a big year (which I hope it is) and he said he wants to help me get what I want and be where I wanna be. His faith in me is so scary - like nothing I've faced. It poured out of him last night when he was drunk and now I'm beginning to see it in him all the time - to always see that warm, wet smile and the mad hope in his eyes.

January 2, 2004

::ELVIS LIVES sticker on the page::
Austin, TX- Sitting here while S is outside. Went to see Cold Mountain. I said it was poorly directed but I liked it. The characters were great. LA is void of character. S and I spent the day with Sammy, a friend from NU. Sammy's brother passed away a few months ago. He seems to be doing great. All in all today was full of ponderances of death and love. Is S the love of my life? If not, what will our relationship become? He's my big keeper right now - the one thing in my life that I've found and worked for, that keeps me safe, that I want for permanent.

January 3, 2004

DFW- Met S's parents - harmless!! Sitting across from a girl I swear is slowly turning into a zombie. S and I had a tearful talk last night along the lines of the end of my last entry. Amazingly we were on the same page - feeling regret for something that hasn't happened yet. We talked about death, dying alone, regret, hurt, goodness - a laundry list. As he cried I just held him. He does not cry. And, over night, the most astonishing dream. I'm trying so hard not to give words to how present and naked we see each other.

January 4, 2004

Los Angeles, CA- Back. Is it all lost so fast? I haven't even showered yet, and when I do, believe me it will be scouring. I'm trying not to live too much in anticipation of the next few days. I'm starting - no I DO see now how much I've been living in the service of others when I have so much to take care of. I see a more muscled and active man emerging through my melting skin. This year will be a story to tell. I can feel it. Mrs. Corral, 9th Grade English teacher says to keep your mind on the story and take fewer commas. "When in doubt, leave it out!"

January 5, 2004

West Hollywood, CA- Taking a moment out of cleaning to reflect on my depression - well, my depression and how S deals with it. What I'm wondering is how much does it matter that he doesn't have a natural ability to handle me. That's unanswerable.
When I'm depressed, I feel like I've never been happy. It's only later that I feel some levity and remember the joys of life. I am noticing though that my demeanor greatly improved with on & a half Buspar.

January 7, 2004

Weho- Played a lot of Prince of Persia today. What good can be taken from that. Well, you can't do it every day, but I got a ton of stress relief.
I discovered today why I loved creating in college. I knew the general safe structure of putting on a college show. So, I leapt head-first into it, but it was still safe.
"Nosebleed" ceases to be interesting when I stop taking chances and stop jumping in head-first.

OKEY- a few blank pages here now while some bad stuff was going on.

January 18, 2004

A lot has happened in the last while. I'm no longer with S, but we slept together last night! I've tried to like a few unlikeable guys. I was set to move out when I realized I got a good thing goin'.
"Matt, you know you're a really awesome guy. I've never met anyone like you. The way you think is incredible. If I were available I'd snatch you up." -Mardi
"If anyone gets to know you, they'll fall in love with you." -S (ed.: HOW IRONIC ergh)

January 19, 2004

I'm about to get a well-deserved sleep as I've spent most of the day cleaning and running errands. There's a lifetime of work to be done to make a life - to make a home. What about our generation drives us to evolve the collective consciousness - to expand society? There's nothing so poetic as Thoreau, or so rebellious, in this yawning question: Why not live simply? Yet, we wait for our deepest purpose to surface. We exist in waiting - we stave off futility with an empty hope.

AND FOLKS - that's when I stopped journaling.