Wow. What a weekend. Leather Pride Night was fun, although the pace of the work is breakneck speed. I did not make my softball game on Saturday. I hope we won. And Folsom Street East yesterday was so great. I was at the GMSMA booth for the better part of the day. It felt like everything in between the time when I was selling ACT UP tee shirts and selling Folsom Street East tee shirts was just a sort of dream. The volunteers I had working with me were excellent. The day was beautiful. The boys were hot. Sweet delight.

But here's the highlight of my weekend. Him. The Special Guy. He called me up (when was it? Friday?) and asked me if I wanted to go with him to a sex party in Weehawken. What could I say? Such an exotic locale... I've never been to Weehawken. Now, I'd never been to a sex party. I had no idea what to expect. I guess I expected a sort of porn movie come to life. Of course, it was a bunch of guys at a backyard barbeque with some slings in the basement that were never quite outside of anyone's consciousness. I knew a few of the other men there. Of course.

Digression: it's amazing how New York works. There are these fairly robust networks: visual artists, gay politicos, activists, leather. Even though they overlap to some degree, they exist independent of one another. But here's the thing... Once you're in one, it's like a small town. Everyone knows everyone else. "So I was talking to this guy I know, Peter..." "Yeah, I know Peter, he used to bartend at..." That kind of thing.

Anyway. I spent time hanging out with The Special Guy, in the backyard, and down in the basement. Both were great. He flows. He's like water. He's great to spend time with. Here's a weird thing. I have vasculitis. It's this obscure condition where the capilaries in my shins and feet break and I get these brown bruises. Looks awful. It turns out that Special Guy has the same thing. Now that is just bizarre.

So, The Special Guy has kind of rocked my world. I think I was kind of hoping that when we had sex it would go nowhere. No connection. No energy. We had a blast. Best time I've had in years. About 9 years, to the best of my recollection. I left the party before he did because I had to get to Leather Pride Night. He called me this a.m. to check in. He said that he didn't have a good time after I left. "I didn't want that. I want intimacy."

Wow. So where do I go from here? Fall deeply madly passionately? Remain true to my commitment to being a perpetual bachelor? My secular monasticism? Can I do this? What happened with my last relationship? Did I (mostly) do all the right things with the (mostly) wrong person? Or did I do all the (mostly) wrong things with the (mostly) right person? At one point, after I left, I asked him that question. I think my intent at the time was to get him to take responsibility for some of the things about him that I cited among my reasons for leaving. I don't recall that he did that. Natch. But, that really is the question, isn't it? I don't know that my therapist will be a lot of help in answering that. She likes me and doesn't like my Ex. Still, objectivity is her business.

Should I talk to The Special Guy about all of this? I think I ought to. I sense that he's feeling the same way about me as I am about him. He has a right to all the information necessary to make a good decision aobut whether or not to proceed. Lord knows he's been forthcoming with me.

I've never met anyone like him. Never. Is it possible? Freud held that falling in love was a variety of insanity. You can't be insane your whole life. So what happens when clarity returns? Will I find myself once again in a situation (a relationship) that makes me feel claustrophobic?

One thing's for sure, listening to Lucinda Williams' new cd is no help at all.