Returning home ...

Two days ago I loaded up an SUV with my entire tangible life- clothes, bread machine, miscellaneous stuffed animals (and yes, I am secure enough in my mascu-femininity that I can sleep with a stuffed turtle named Henry should the mood strike me- he’s warm and comes accessorized with a bathrobe and boxers!).

My arrival in DC marks the beginning of another chapter in this tireless novel- I’m on the precipice of a ginormous cavern filled with millions of question marks, swirling about like an ensemble of bubbles caught in a breeze. It’s dizzying; each answer leads to more questions, like a clue-ridden DaVinci Code movie that never ends. It is life unfolding to its fullest- a shining new day, illuminated by an infinite number of colors and pigments that are forever growing and changing.

Basically, I’m scared to death …

As Philadelphia faded into the distance of my rearview mirror, I was still dabbing at puffy eyes after saying goodbye to my roommate, Tanya. Well … she was much more than a roommate. A colleague, a mentor, a confidant, an advisor, a role-model, and a friend. It’s her I’ll miss the most-- our chats in the kitchen over wine glasses that refused to stay empty, our sprinting across the school parking lot to avoid missing the sign-in sheet for staff members, our engaging discussions on Harry Potter and the sexuality of Dumbledore ... It’s all gone.

As I sat in the food court at the Pentagon City mall, I stared at the post-holiday crowds rushing about to return gifts and take advantage of the latest sales. There could have been at least 500 people there- probably a lot more. And, surprisingly and disturbingly, I felt so completely alone. Returning “home” had never felt so strange.

And so, as any gay man would do, I consoled myself with a lavish shopping spree at Bed Bath & Beyond. Homo-therapy, ahhh …

I’m sitting here amongst a micro-city of boxes and storage bins, wishing I could Mary Poppins everything into its proper niche. I wish I could fast-forward through the next few days- hell, through all of the ambiguity that awaits me in the upcoming weeks. But missing the journey devalues the destination, as evasive as this destination seems to be. I’ll close my eyes, leap into the cavern, and hope the question marks are sensible enough to break my fall.

Sleep tight, Henry.