Road Trip...

Kidding Z is very responsible

I woke up very early this morning to see Z fully dressed for the day. He was not in his usual business attire and said, "We are taking a personal day. It is Sunday and my boy has places to be." The only place I knew I had to be, was in his office. I hate it when he surprises me, and doesn't tell me what's going on. Yes, I know that's the technical definition of a surprise, but it's damn hard to dress for the unknown.

Dead Sea Jordan side

It was still very dark when we started our journey at three. We drove down the road alongside the Dead Sea. He said it would take almost five hours to get where we were going. 

We pulled off for morning prayers and for breakfast along the way. The further we went, the more concerned I became. I started digging my nails into his thigh as I started seeing the signs for Aqaba. He must have thought his speeding was why I was afraid. He slowed down and patted my hand to comfort me. Each minute that past my fear increased. I was sure this was the day he was going to send me away. You see Aqaba is the Jordanian port city adjacent to Eilat, Israel.

He could tell something was wrong. Sadly again he misinterpreted what was going on with me. He pulled the car off the road and asked me if I had to go to the bathroom. This was one of those times I was truly scared shitless, pun intended. I shook my head no and asked him if the militants had come across the border from Syria.

He cradled my face laughing, "This is why you tremble so? Oh, my sweet little fatalist! No, there is something I want you to see. This is a fun trip I promise. I have business to perform, and I have a surprise for you. I know how you love old things. I have a friend who will show you a piece of your history."

I choked back my snotty tears. I was on the verge of a complete emotional collapse. He's right I do have a lot of baggage. Maybe it's time to actually talk to the therapist. Z gave me tissues and stroked my cheek until I calmed. Then we drove on through the morning.

When we arrived in Aqaba he introduced me to one of his old friends from university.  He left me in his care. M took me to an archaeological dig site and said it was the oldest church in all of Christendom. I corrected him that this was just a building. Then I gestured at my body and said this is the church. He smiled and said indeed. I found out that he was also a Christian. Turns out that Z is very modern in who he calls friend.

M asked me how I could reconcile being gay with being a Christian. I replied with another question to him. How a fat person could be a Christian? Can a person who drinks too much be a Christian? Both of these things are sins. We all have sinned. It is part of the human condition. The truth is there is no greater or lesser sin. In God's eyes they are all the same. 

 This is why when the religious leaders tried to trick Jesus with the question, what is the greatest commandment. He simply replied to love God with all your heart mind and the second one is like unto it to love thy neighbor as thyself upon these two Commandments all of the laws hang. I told him I belong to the PC USA denomination, inclusion is part of our philosophy. You can't show the love of Christ to someone that you are condemning. Many Christians forget it is not our place to condemn.

One does not choose who they fall in love with. I love Z with all my heart. Z did make one mistake however, M and his family were Greek Orthodox I felt very uncomfortable in that church. It was a lovely homily though. Z completed his meeting and collected me from his friends home. I got a nose rub which is the farthest he goes in public. 

We took the fast way home. The main Highway only takes two and a half hours. On the way he told me if things did go wrong his friend would walk me and his partners boy across the Israeli border. We would then make our way to a third party nation to be reunited. 

"I do not wish for this to be something for my boy to fear. I am not getting rid of you. You are my heart little one. I must protect you. Do not fear I have prepared for every possible thing that can go wrong."

He went a bit further to tell me I was going to learn Arabic. I figured it was about time that happened, I've lived here for a year. I've been able to pick up a few words here and there. When everyone talks to him and not to me it's kind of hard to learn more. I tried to call him Habibi once, he told me to use his first name. He was my love, not my father. So much for me being cute.

Someone emailed me a question about how I fooled DCF so long. Technically, I did not fool them. We just didn't ask their permission to leave the country. Z arranged travel documents and passports from Jordan. So in a sense I traveled as a Jordanian citizen.

Department of Children and Families is like any bureaucracy it is slow to wake up but once it does it is relentless. Just before my 18th birthday they attempted to do a site visit with my foster family. Their method of closing the file as it were. When I wasn't there flags were raised. The family told them I was traveling celebrating my graduation from high school. Which is a true statement.

Z arranged travel back to the States for me we flew into Quebec on my Jordanian passport. Then we flew to Florida displaying my American passport. Sneaky yes, borderline illegal probably yes. I plead ignorance of the law and as I was a minor at the time, no charges can be filed. When we returned to Jordan I traveled on my American passport.

With today's meltdown,  it looks like I'm going to have a lot to talk to the shrink about tomorrow.

Chase

Average! My boy is not average!

I got a WHAT!!!

 On top of everything this week, for the first time ever I got a 78 on a MATH test. Z knew something was up because I was not completely upset about it. I actually expected it, my mind was not on the task at hand.

 "Of all the things I know my boy is, average is not one of them. Was it an overly difficult test?"  Between being his intern, cleaning the house, and my studies something gave.

 Okay there's also the blog and the writing, but that's normally during down time (like now) when I can't sleep. After Z comes from his prayer room at night, we make love I am left feeling like I could run a marathon. It is as if there is some kind of weird power transfer from him to me.

 (back to the test) I told him I would try harder, and begged him not to fire me as his intern. He laughed, "We will be bringing in someone to clean the house. You are too valuable to me as an intern to waste you, or your education." He kissed my forehead.

 We also went to the National Gallery. Z was invited to see some Venezuelan artist's work called "The Amman Period." Z was underwhelmed, however I did sort of like the huge columns Borge made out of carved aluminum. For the most part though I shared Z's impression. Modern art has never been my thing. I preferred Farah Foudeh exhibit Bedu. I was so taken with the imagery, Z promised to take me to Wadi Rum. To think photographs of men in the desert, making a boy from the swamp long to be there.

 It's kind of tense here now. We have been having flooding. When the kid from Miami is lamenting rain, you know there is a lot of water. It was so neat seeing the people come together to help neighbors affected by the flash floods.

 Then there is the other flooding, the stuff I am not supposed to see. Z has been working on exit plans for me, and a few of the other boys in his firm. ISIL is making end roads in the outline regions of the country. I think plan D has me walking across the border at Eilat alone with my American passport... When I heard that one I told him, "NEVER GONNA HAPPEN! I have been left behind by so many people. There is no way on Earth, I will ever leave you behind. If we face death, we face it together."

 He laughed and called me a fatalist. Then he got very serious, "You are a gentle sweet boy, MY boy. You are not a fighter. You will do what I tell you. The goal is for you live, and I rejoin you." He reminded me of his promise to keep me safe. Z has never broken a promise to me, I felt stupid with my outburst.

 Tonight before bed he asked me if I pray. He knows I am Christian but I don't think he knows what that means to me. I am NOT going to be the one who proselytizes to him, not here. I simply replied, "Yes I do, non-stop. I am so grateful he answered with a six foot miracle." I kissed him and we climbed into bed.


 Chase

Shrinky Dink Time

Chase is a sad boi...

I know I shouldn't read too much into this but, "Z" has me seeing a therapist. Last week I drew blood as my fingers dug into his arm while we slept.

I felt so bad as we cleaned and dabbed antiseptic on his wounds. After I kissed his bandage, we had a very long talk about what I was dreaming. I confessed I was nervous about our coming trip to Ukraine. I thought I had been looking forward to seeing Kiev. I had a dream that he left me alone and didn't come back.

He told me I have to get a handle on my abandonment issues and needed to see a therapist. I offered to wear mittens to bed from now on, he didn't laugh.

Just because everyone I've ever known has walked away from me, does not mean I have abandonment issues. To me it seems like a pretty damn logical, legitimate and real fear. I know "Z" loves me, and just wants me happy. I tried to fool him plastering on a smile for a week. Today he told me my first session was after dinner. I guess I still have to work on some of those old walls, and apparently my acting skills.

He found me the oldest, ugliest doctor in the world of psychotherapy. I know that is shallow of me, but seriously I could have braided his nose hair. We had the usual opening talk where he agreed with everything I said. At least he isn't trying to push mood stabilizers. Pharmacology has never helped me in the past. Sometimes a dream is just a dream. I told the doc I had been thinking about my mom and where I come from a lot lately. He asked, "Where DO you come from?"

"That's the problem, I don't know Sir." He said there was a tremendous amount of pain in my reply. Note to self from now on, lie to the shrink.  So here I sit at four thirty in the morning editing a post from two hours ago. I should get breakfast started, "Z" will be up for Salah soon.

Nadir


Postscript: I am working on a new story "Frozen and Chosen" A story about a teen-aged boy, missing/absent parents, drugs, sex, show-tunes, and a bit of New Orleans. It starts in this weird part of Illinois one of my foster families came from. I thought Miami was colorful, until I heard about life on the Illinois/Wisconsin line.