La Strada

I'm a little annoyed at not having heard back from the urologist yet. Having this surgery, albeit relatively minor (relative to gastric bypass, that's for sure) is bothing be because it's just hanging out there like a...non-functioning testicle. Just give me a date so I can fret no more. I'm just eager to get it done and over with and finito. I'm not at all nervous about the procedure at all, as I trust in the abilities of my surgeon and the quality of the hospital I've chosen. If I were going to the Casa de los Nut Chop in Oaxaca, Mexico then I'd be worried. Actually, I'm not even sure such a place exists. It would be great if it did, and it were a world-class urology clinic. Somehow I doubt it, though. One of the many benefits of living in Boston, aside from having the best pizza, fried clams and accent, is the access to countless amazing hospitals.

I just want a fucking surgery date, for fuck's sake.

Another thing that's been on my mind, actually to a far greater degree, is my date scheduled for Saturday night. The last date I had was with an insane woman with a great ass who used my like a sex toy. After I got to know her a bit better, I was glad that nothing more was expected from me. It didn't last long. I haven't been in a bona fide relationship since Donna. She also happens to be my best friend. Relationships are very important to me, and as much as I like the idea of having a "friend with benefits," that never works out. You have have gleaned, dear reader, that I'm not an emotionally aloof person. I don't use people and there is nothing Machiavellian about my plans. If I trust you and I like you, you're a friend. I also happen to love a lot of my friends. And I do fall in love on rare occassion. It's not something that I like to do, however, because it inevitably leads to unspeakable joy and bliss that then leads equally indescribable pain and misery that takes years off of your life. It's like that Rubik's Cube thing in Hellraiser, and I'm no good with puzzles.

What's been on my mind is a question about my nature. Since I've been growing more comfortable in my isolation these past months and years, am I going against myself by trying to find love and companionship with a normal human being. This reads like melodrama, but it's an honest question. My emotional state and mental illness is such that I do take relationships very seriously, perhaps too seriously. My being an romantic is part of the problem. I'm pathologically romantic.

I'm wondering if I might be happy with my music and my books and my little walks and friendships, but nothing more intimate than that. When I need romance, I can read Dostoevsky's "White Nights" for the 100th time, or take a walk through Davis Square and see all the young lovers. I'm not sure I'm artist enough to carve that out. Am I strong enough for someone to lean on? Certainly, I can't be relied on financially; I'm barely getting by myself. So what do I have to offer besides a sexual release for both of us? People seem to like talking to me, a lot, but clever conversation and a little kindness does not make a bond, or a "serious relationship" like she is looking for.

And I'm so damn nervous. I'm shaking almost violently as I write this, I'm not sure why. I feel that my decision to go or not to go on this date Saturday night is a very large one that will echo for a long time.