The Picture

It has been 22 years since Patrick and I were first roommates back in Pasadena, California. The Eighties were coming to an end and we were a couple of twenty-somethings with no real direction in life. We were learning responsibility, having fun and seeking out goals. We ran through a few other roommates in that one bedroom apartment: pre-op transsexual Janice; Daniel - Patrick's short-term boyfriend who gave new meaning to the term 'cutting'; and Winona, Patrick's older Jehovah Witness sister. But no one stood out more than Desiree. She was a strong-willed girl who worked in the shoe department at a major department store. The three of us created something of a family atmosphere. All of our friends were included in what was a world of fun, drama and the creation of memories that we would laugh about many years later.

Slowly, through a few innocent decisions and apartment-hoppings, we all sort of floated off into the world with only a few gestures to keep in contact. Dez moved into a bigger apartment with Kyle and Jaime; Daniel moved to Florida; Janice faded into just a whisper of a memory; Patrick and Winona moved back to the Bay Area and I moved into a single apartment in Hollywood just off of Sunset Boulevard. Patrick and I kept in close contact as did he and Desiree, but the rest of our crowd seemed to have disappeared. Through the years some of us would bump into each other here and there, but, mostly, it seemed that Patrick, Desiree and I stood the test of time and stayed friends...well, up until a few years ago to be honest.

Anyway, I made a few notes here and there about our antics in that apartment and penned something of a bible for a television show called 'One Bedroom Apartment' which, later, I toned down to center on 3 characters - twenty-something roommates trying to make it in the world. There was nymphonic, dim-witted, struggling actor Lane; tough and controlling up-and-coming photographer Latina Sybil; and black, gay and sensitive writer Baren. I re-titled my creation 'The Picture' and focused on the theme of life actually not turning out the way one - or several - think it will.

I'm returning to that old theme now because 22 years later, Patrick and I find ourselves roommates once again. Life, as we know it, has not turned out quite exactly how we thought it would. Patrick was supposed to be settled down with his partner in their house and surrounded by friends and family. So far, he does have most of that only I never thought I would see children in the outcome. Yes, my friend has two adorable kids that he loves and dotes on. He and his partner of years ago has since broken up but remain friends. Me? I was supposed to have my own production company and living happily with my radiologist partner Matthew. Well, Matthew died of cancer back in the mid-1990s and I let myself be talked out of my dreams. I thought things would be a tad different when I moved to Seattle, but have come to understand that life is actually what you make it.

When I look back at photos of my time in the Air Force and my first years in California, I find that time has run by so quickly and wisdom does come with age as well as a new lease on life. I see myself and my friends and Air Force buddies as the youth of yesterday who were ready to conquer the world and have grown up to see the gray in our hair and look back on the years past with smiles while telling ourselves that life really is short. And while some of us did not quite waste some of that time, we have learned that living is the magic that we seek to embrace.

My past few years in Seattle have seen me loose my job, get work in the bar industry and see life through new eyes. I did not want to sit back and groan about the negative outcome of situations that were beyond my control. Rather, I wanted to live. I wanted to love. I wanted to fuck. The living and the fucking part I sought out with honest intentions and a lively outlook. And I discovered that not many people share my view of simple pleasures. Simple, I think, because my views involved nothing more than having fun. That's it. Nothing more. I was honest with my intentions, maybe a bit more arrogant than normal but I kind of liked the arrogance I created. I'd spent years fighting demons and building a more positive self-esteem and trying to resolve my issues and I tried not to allow petty games and narrow views and outlooks take me down. I moved to the Bay Area/San Francisco to live...to love...to fuck...to dance into everything that the past, particular people and a few bad decisions I made had taken from me. I moved back to California because I love being passionate.

Once upon a time, I let negativity, narrow minds, damaged individuals and my own weakness push me into a box of darkness that could have sent me into a vortex of bitter waters. Can't go down that road now. Life is too short for bullshit. I've learned this living in Seattle.

I've painted a picture and I am ready to jump into it with my arms wide open, my heart beating to a beautiful beat and my mind focused on the good and the real. It may not turn out the way that I want it to, I know that. But I also know that when I die, I want to die with a smile on my face.