I am in love with you. I left my heart in you. That just sounds gross. But seriously - how incredible are you? I never thought there could be anywhere better than New York, and I still don't. But you came really close. Maybe if you don't kick my ass, flip me upside down, throw me against a wall in an alley in the Castro before ripping my guts out next time, I'll move you up the list. But you were fucking fabulous, all pain aside.
Maybe it's when I saw the homeless man pull out his dick right in front of me on your street. Maybe it's when I was approached with drugs all over your Golden Gate Park. Maybe it's the 5 days I had to look at my travel mate's massive hickey from his first night in you. Maybe it's when I went into the LGBT History Center and learned history. Maybe it was the time when I did a backflip and landed on my face in a club. Maybe that's when I knew I was in love...or just really out of control. The two are similar, no?I don't know why as I get older, I seem more capable of losing control. I thought you're that way when you're young. I sure wasn't, though. I spent my childhood controlling whatever I could - planning, dreaming, organizing, worrying - not living. Life has taught me to live. Now, I try to go all out and live without regrets, and I don't have any. Besides the dead body.
Without going into too much detail, it was wonderful to see old friends and my beautiful radical feminist queer cousin and to fall in love with another city with such a gift.
You know, the one I'm always talking about. The gift to be yourself.
Love,
Wes
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