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Author Topic: 1994, NYC, Russell with the handlebar moustache  (Read 1625 times)

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Offline Strayboy74

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1994, NYC, Russell with the handlebar moustache
« on: October 01, 2012, 12:45:08 AM »
I think sometimes, about how as a young man, I was careless with the feelings of others.   My ambition was calloused to the hearts and desires of those who cared about me.
When I think about the pain and hurt I caused, I usually think about Russell.  Russell was an amazing man who loved me with all of his heart.  He was the epitome in ideals of a want and desire that I was too young and immature to appreciate.   He loved me.  Less than I wanted, but more than I deserved. Easily the inspiration for a Touko Laaksonen drawing, Russell was male hyperbole incarnate.
A dark handlebar moustache, thick shoulders, and a trim waist, Russell titillated and scared me all at once.  His interest in me seemed almost surreal.  He took me to his apartment one night after a date, where I subsequently spent a great deal of time conflicted in desires.   I wanted to run from his place, and forget him forever, yet I also wanted nothing more than to hold him in my arms and cry.  I wanted to tell him that everything between us is and would be perfect forever. 
You see, it was 1993, and we found ourselves battling the stigma of what was believed to be a death sentence.   I had come to believe that if I coughed, I might kill him - or that if he coughed, it might kill me.  He had been living with HIV for almost a decade, and telling me his truth required more humanity on my part than I had been prepared to afford.
It's easy to tell yourself lies about your relationship, and to ignore the truths - at first.  The idea that we would ever develop our relationship beyond dinners, drinks, movies, plays, and other city nightlife never occurred to me, and I helped continue to lead him thoughtlessly toward a progression in our relationship that I, ultimately, could not allow.
Eventually, I cut him out of my life - like a dream I couldn't remember upon waking.  I gave him no reason, and no honesty on my true fear of the matter.
Sometimes when my mind wanders on my foolish youth, I wonder where he is - and wish I could find him, and hug him, and tell him how terribly sorry I am for hurting him without the explanation he deserved.  His heart was big - and never has anyone been so good to me as him. 
And though I've sought him - to explain my heart, and my sadness - I still have been unable to tell him what, I suspect through the stigma of his disease that he somehow knew all along.   Some truths of heart are too heavy to bear to another.

« Last Edit: October 01, 2012, 12:54:52 AM by Strayboy74 »

Offline weasel

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Re: 1994, NYC, Russell with the handlebar moustache
« Reply #1 on: October 11, 2012, 07:01:10 PM »

   Hi  Strayboy  ,
                        I can relate to your story . It is a sad one indeed .

    Life moves on and when we are old enough to know what could have

   been it is too late .   Sometimes  on dark  sleepless nights I think of what could

   have been   :-\     Maybe it is all just a pipe dream and what was meant to be

   has been what has been a great life after all ? 

   I hope you are doing well . 

                                          ))) HUGS (((

" Live and let Live "

Offline Strayboy74

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Re: 1994, NYC, Russell with the handlebar moustache
« Reply #2 on: October 12, 2012, 11:04:21 PM »
Weasel -

Thanks.   I'm going to NYC October 25-30.  I'm going to make a concerted effort to try and find him, though it's been about twenty years.   :/  The likelihood that I'll find him is very slim, but in good conscience I feel I need to try.



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