Well, I’ve struggled to retain and experience any gay part of my identity since moving to a rural area in
As with my home, the family cottage where I’m staying has a water view—only closer and better. The closest town is about ten minutes away. The services there are similar, sans the Starbucks (alas). A pulp and paper mill is one of the biggest employers in both areas. Things are remarkably similar. Why did I trade apples for apples? And why did I drive 4,600 kilometers to make the trade?
This cottage is what I retain from childhood. This is a place where I am able to think differently, possibly sparking new creativity. Here is where some of my most profound life decisions have gotten sorted out.
Will any part of my being gay further develop here? It’s unlikely. I have switched over my hometown from
I’ve been here four days and things are as quiet as they are at home. I am making progress with my writing so the primary purpose for being here is coming to fruition. I’ve had a couple of
I also have my aunt and cousin trying to play matchmaker. Super. I need the help. But I get the feeling their efforts are misplaced. It seems one of my childhood friends is single (though he has a child), attractive, in good shape, has a dog and likes running and biking. On paper, they’ve got checkmarks in each box for both of us. I’m trying to remain sensibly cautious (negative?). For a match, at least three things need to be: (1) He has to be gay; (2) He has to be single; and (3) He has to be interested in me (and I in him). Three big hurdles and I’ve never been much of a hurdler.
At this point, I remind myself that I’m here for my writing. Anything else is a nice distraction and a bonus. Of course, who doesn’t like a nice bonus?