"A house divided......the phone call"
It was early August 2001, my days did not change much as opposed to prior to my surgery. I was little paranoid as to what were my limits lifting and otherwise. My doctor made it very clear that jogging was no longer an option for exercise. Any sort of compression to my spine could land me again on the operating table.
The combination of medications I was taking (Paxil, Xanax, Klonopin) had taken it's toll on my personality. I had become almost dense, taking a few seconds to answer the simplest questions. Greg and I were still in seperate bedrooms. We were both hoping that the surgery would be a "fix it" for us, for me. Greg really didn't need to be fixed more than he needed to understand. We had become so distant. My role as a hyper communicator now silenced with the all the medications.
Soon the calls started coming in from the NO/AIDS Task Force asking when I would be able to return to work. Even worse I was asked if it was okay to drop off work as our annual Walk was closing in. I reluctantly agreed knowing that to get anything done at my office I needed to be at my office. With Greg being on the board of this organization, I didn't want to disappoint. As the days progressed, I became increasingly paranoid about re-emerging into the work force. I had this unfounded fear of doom and failure. This period was vital for communication between Greg and I, sadly it would not happen. I missed the old me too, the confident guy that wrote a clever letter to a tall, handsome stranger. a letter that started a ten year realtionship.
It was March 1993, and the infamous letter was on it's way to Greg. A few days elapsed and I was at my office. A call was passed to me. I picked up the line to hear a deep, articulate voice: "Matt? Hi, this is Greg." I had to put him on hold to get myself together. I was so nervous. I picked up the phone again and said: "You mean Greg (I began to spell his last name letter for letter as he did on Bourbon Street that beautiful Mardi Gras day.) Greg chuckled explaining he had a bit to drink. He went further to say that he almost threw my letter out until he saw the signature "Marty Graw." He then examined the correspondence closer and caught all my hidden messages.
No ego, this letter was genius, a witty calling card for a meeting. Greg and I agreed on a date and a place. I immediately called my friend Clay who agreed to join us as our get together would take place at a local bar. Greg was familiar with my friend Clay and with Greg still in a relationship, it helped in appearances as it would look less like a date.
The night arrived and Clay and I made our pre-bar cocktails at his house. We headed to the French Quarter's "Bourbon Pub", a popular gay club on Bourbon Street. We met Greg who was very punctual and greeted us very warmly. I quickly disposed of Clay as I knew he no trouble finding trouble.
Over the thunder of redundant club music, Greg and I began a conversation that would last for over three hours. The attraction was obvious. This would be the beginning of a sweet courtship over the next few months, but how would explain my work uniform? (I'll explain later.)
HAPPY ROSH HASHANAH to all my Jewish friends!
The combination of medications I was taking (Paxil, Xanax, Klonopin) had taken it's toll on my personality. I had become almost dense, taking a few seconds to answer the simplest questions. Greg and I were still in seperate bedrooms. We were both hoping that the surgery would be a "fix it" for us, for me. Greg really didn't need to be fixed more than he needed to understand. We had become so distant. My role as a hyper communicator now silenced with the all the medications.
Soon the calls started coming in from the NO/AIDS Task Force asking when I would be able to return to work. Even worse I was asked if it was okay to drop off work as our annual Walk was closing in. I reluctantly agreed knowing that to get anything done at my office I needed to be at my office. With Greg being on the board of this organization, I didn't want to disappoint. As the days progressed, I became increasingly paranoid about re-emerging into the work force. I had this unfounded fear of doom and failure. This period was vital for communication between Greg and I, sadly it would not happen. I missed the old me too, the confident guy that wrote a clever letter to a tall, handsome stranger. a letter that started a ten year realtionship.
It was March 1993, and the infamous letter was on it's way to Greg. A few days elapsed and I was at my office. A call was passed to me. I picked up the line to hear a deep, articulate voice: "Matt? Hi, this is Greg." I had to put him on hold to get myself together. I was so nervous. I picked up the phone again and said: "You mean Greg (I began to spell his last name letter for letter as he did on Bourbon Street that beautiful Mardi Gras day.) Greg chuckled explaining he had a bit to drink. He went further to say that he almost threw my letter out until he saw the signature "Marty Graw." He then examined the correspondence closer and caught all my hidden messages.
No ego, this letter was genius, a witty calling card for a meeting. Greg and I agreed on a date and a place. I immediately called my friend Clay who agreed to join us as our get together would take place at a local bar. Greg was familiar with my friend Clay and with Greg still in a relationship, it helped in appearances as it would look less like a date.
The night arrived and Clay and I made our pre-bar cocktails at his house. We headed to the French Quarter's "Bourbon Pub", a popular gay club on Bourbon Street. We met Greg who was very punctual and greeted us very warmly. I quickly disposed of Clay as I knew he no trouble finding trouble.
Over the thunder of redundant club music, Greg and I began a conversation that would last for over three hours. The attraction was obvious. This would be the beginning of a sweet courtship over the next few months, but how would explain my work uniform? (I'll explain later.)
HAPPY ROSH HASHANAH to all my Jewish friends!
posted by Matthew Cortez at 10/04/2005 10:10:00 AM
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