in_the_grocery_store pilot in the grocery store today there was a pubscent latin couple. the boy had his arm around the girl, and from a distance, his frame was so much like yours. how lean his arm was, the width of his shoulders, the thin torso. i paused a moment and imagined that it was you, imagined your arm around me. Mexico flashed before my eyes. the hot bus rides, the sticky smell of heat and food, sweat on our brows, and you falling asleep after the park. there was a girl in the back who knew i was american and though she suspected i couldn't understand her, i knew she was speaking of us with her friend. for those loud moments, the 45 minutes back to your house when all the world was sheer pandemonium on the bus, all i could believe was that the world was perfect and you and i were the only ones existing. i have ached since my return. everyday the thought of you etches a deeper need to be by you. to share these small moments, in a grocery store, eating ice cream, sleeping in the back of your mother's car when we waited for your brother to get back from juarez, or where ever he was that day. perhaps if the world stopped just then at anyone of those moments, i would die knowing that i was in love. 060509 ... . kerry? 060509 ... pilot its almost 1 am, and i have been egged on by our friend to finish the last of the Grey Goose. by now i've lost track of the vodka tonics i've had, and most of the tonic is gone, so i drink the vodka straight up. i'm so enamored that i just want to close my eyes and leave. i chug the last as fast as i can, thinking that if i do it will all be over. midway i leave to use the restroom, thinking if i splash some water on my face i'll be fine. you come in behind me and lock the door. "try to act cool okay babe? just try and act normal." at this point you don't realize how drunk i am, and it been a good 4 years since i've been in a stupor like this. then you hug me and leave. i follow shortly thereafter. when i return we pay the bill. the girls have left and Davey just smiles at me knowing exactly how i feel. i manage to get out the front door of the lounge, we acted like kings in the VIP, but now i feel just like any other wino on a street corner. i sit on the curb trying to fight the urge to puke, but its too late and i retreat to the bushes to rid my body of the sushi and alcohol. ironically, i'm doing all that i could do in the states in Mexico. the ride home is a nightmare, and again we stop so i can puke. in my mind all i can focus on is how sick i feel. i need the world to be still. i need a bed to lie in. after what seems like hours we arrive at your house, and you jump the fence to let your brother and i in. i'm so tired i sit in the driveway, too drunk to care. you appear and come to my side, hoisting me up by my underarm. you put your arm around my shoulder, and your hand on my stomach and take me to your room. theres so much stuff on the bed, but i don't care, i just throw it on the floor. all my clothes and suitcase. i strip to my boxers and climb in. you tuck me in make sure i'm okay, bring me a glass of water. and then it fades... its now 4 a.m. and you open the door slightly, poking your head in. i gesture you to come in. i've been waiting to be close to you all day, since my flight in, since lunch, since the bus ride, since the lounge and the friends. you slide in under the sheets and we share the space of your single bed. all i can think is i haven't slept in a twin bed in a long time. tonight i'm thankful its a twin. neither of us can get lost in a twin bed. i know right where you are in my arms, i know the geography of your body, the smell of your skin, the taste of your breathe. i am certain of the heat, the love, the delicacy of this minute, this hour, just before the sun rises. there is no sex, no passion, just an intimacy i never thought i would experience. 060510 ... pilot this afternoon we spoke online. things have settled and returned to the way they were before i came. the suspicion has left, the jealousy, the dread of living 15 hours away. every spanish word reminds me of you, and soon i will speak it well enough. the next time we will only speak in spanish when we're together. "i'm going to a party tonight" i tell you. you seem sad, Davey has been in the states almost two weeks now, and Toby is not coming till june. tonight you'll be alone, and i try to cheer you up by saying i'll be thinking of you at the party, wishing it was you that i had arrived with, wishing in my heart it was you i was going home with. "i'm wearing your shirt, btw." "heh, thanx babe, i always wear your necklace" "bracelet" i correct you. "yeah, i always wear it." its a the only bracelet of its kind. the story on the bus flashes back in my mind, me explaining the process which the African tribe uses to make these unique handicrafts, explaining how the mold is broken after the silver cures, telling you how i acquired it. now it fits on your wrist, even though you don't care for silver, you wear it in my abscence, and i am wearing your shirt. its lost your smell. i washed it. after sleeping with it for so many nights, it began to smell less like you and more like me. i miss you. the party would have been better had you been here. Cathy made one of her famous cakes and you would loved it, you and your sweet tooth. there's a piece in the refrigerator, though it won't keep till september. 060513 ... pilot sunday morning we lazed around. both you and i were anxious for your family to leave. when they did we layed on the couch together and watched spanish MTv. that night was the party that i had eagerly been waiting for. you warned me about the cumbia, i never dance to that. back home everyone loves salsa and merengue. my favorite of course is bachata. so you said you'd teach me. you pulled it up on you pc and some cumbia beat blasted from the speakers. at first i just watched as you showed me the steps, that smirk pasted across your face. then you danced up to me and grabbed me, taking the position of the man, leading me to the beat. it was my first time to cumbia, and i picked it up, but not without mistakes. we laughed at how stupid we must have looked dancing there in your hallway, swaying to song. i'm glad you taught me though. i put it to use later on in the evening. since i've perfected it. today i went over to Julia's. she's been wanting to learn too. so we put on all sorts of latin music, but ended up on a Selena CD, dancing cumbia. it was alot of fun. in the back of my mind...i thought of us. we'll dance some more when i come...when no one is watching. 060522 ... AfPRicochet MVP in the spice aisle, about knee high, with it's yellow, red, and white label, it goes great on just about everything. hooray for cavender's greek seasoning 060522 ... unhinged the cashier at sentry tonight was rather grumpy; he argued with me about how entrances don't have to universally on the right and then started bitching more about all the stupid people that try to go in the out because the in is on the left side there. it was weird. i paid for my ice cream and orange juice and told him to have a good night since he didn't offer up the pleasantry first. 060522 ... pilot i have just showered and dried myself impetuously. i stand in the bathroom in my boxers and a pair of flip-flops. i rummage through my small toiletry bag for the shaving cream and a razor when you step in and close the door behind me. no one is home, still you lock the door. you stand behind me, resting your chin on my shoulder staring at me in the mirror. i stare back and offer half a smile. "can i shave you?" the question is so timid. in your eyes i can see the desire for this request is strong...and i am reminded of a book i once read. all my mind can think of is the dangerous similarities to this work of fiction that is rearing itself now in my life. will you break my heart like Eduardo, the cuban boxer? i hand you the shaving cream and turn facing you. i study the furrows of your brow, the concentration in your expression. there is something so calming about this. i wished that feeling could exist always in my life. you rinse your hands and pick up the razor, and i am nervous because of your lack of experience. i can tell from your smooth young face, and though i'm only 3 years older...you can feel how course my stubble is. gently you raise it to my neck and stroke upwards against the way the hair grows. i tense slightly fearing you will cut me. it takes much trust to allow you to shave me...more than i have given someone before. so quickly i have trusted you to allow you to bring an instrument of murder to my throat. but you are methodical in your strokes...shaving me in a way i have not done myself. even now today, as i reflect, i have tried to imitate it, but cannot. you make mention of my cheekbones. "don't shave so high, or the hair will get darker and courser. use a..." then you make a gesture of a tweezers plucking. i am focused on you and your deep brown eyes, the few freckles that spot your cheeks. the razor has too much cream on it, and i fill the sink with water and show you how to rinse it properly before returning it to my face. you finish and take your towel, dabbing the spots of cream, cleaning it off. the sink empties, and i rinse the stubble from the sides of the basin. 060523 ... pilot we are lying in the park together, using your school bag as a headrest, backs flat against the grass, knees bent, my right leg crosses my left. the newspaper is strewn in parts between us. we had searched all weekend for it, and finally today it was published. there it is in the social section, the photo of us at the airport. i found it funny how they took photos of incoming visitors and tourists at the airport and then published it in the newspaper for everyone to see. this city has such a sense of hospitality and pride. you are proud people, honest and hard-working, but proud. and you have much to be proud of. i haven't felt so alive before in my life (one time i came close in spain). but lying here next to you in the shade as we admire this souvenir in newsprint is by far more fulfilling than my adventures in Andalucia. there is a couple a few feet away propped against a tree, and the man holds the woman. i dare not hold you that way though i want to. here we are seen by everyone, and in a way its shameful for a man to hold another that way. though your city is progressive and moving forward, i myself am ashamed to hold you in such a way. the public image a man conveys is his honor. masculinity is an important feature in your culture. in america it has been replaced with the overly-sensitive or -sarcastic. but here its just about chivalry. i can be close to you, and put my arm around you, but to hold you the way a man does a woman is not proper. believe me: i wanted to. it took everything not to be jealous of what that couple had: the freedom to express their love so publicly. part of me likes our privacy. i like being a secret, i like keeping you as my secret. back home my friends don't know about us. here your friends don't either. the only people who know are you and i. (the irony of course is all those reading my words). we skipped class, and its getting late, we have to meet up with Davey and Pepe soon, and still we must catch a bus to your house, shower and change before the evening. a few weeks ago i was at Herman Park. there were more couples in the grass and on benches in front of the pond. i smiled slightly. when you visit, we will read the Chronicle at Herman Park. 060524 ... pilot the group has left to go drink german beer, and you and i are waiting in front of the house on the curb next to Davey's car trying to reach your mother to give us a ride so we don't have to pay for a cab. the whole trip has been up and down. distant and close. moments of extreme intimacy followed by an ocean of distance. i've forgiven you. javi took advantage, and you being so maleable played in. still things have changed. you hurt me so bad. i ache for you when i'm away and even when i'm near i ache because it will never be as we want it to. "what'd you want to do now." you're frustrated and tired, and i'm just tired. "let's walk" a few blocks away is a park and its now nearly 10:30 so we walk in the park and sit on a bench in the darkest corner. and now you meld into me. i stradle the bench and your body melds into my torso and i hold you. nothing can compare the kind of peace i feel when we are close. "i love to look at the stars, " you say, and all i can think is that these stars pale in next to the ones back home, not in houston, but up north, in the country, where they are so bright and so sharp you feel that you will break the sky they are so close. still here i am in mexico watching stars with the one and only person i've loved. "who needs sex, when we can be this close and happy." you offer. you're right. i feel more for you now in this tiny moment than i have ever felt in my life. 060615 ... pilot this past weekend was a disaster. and you saw the ugliest most insecure and jealous monster come out of me. if you will love me, even when i am ugly, then i know what we have is real. the party has packed and is waiting at the check out downstairs. only you and i are left in the room. the door is locked and i have the keys. ironically this is what we wanted for awhile, this absolute privacy, in a hotel room where the world outside can't reach to disturb us. i help you with your packing. we're both kneeling on the floor. you stop, and stare at me, as if its time to kiss, but instead, you bite me. i pull away. and stand up. you place your hands on my shoulders, and look me straight in the eye. i feel the disappointment in your gaze. "you've got to stop with this jealousy. its so immature" all i've ever wanted in my life was someone to take me as their own, to not feel like i was competing for attention. to feel valued. you make me feel that way. sharing you is difficult for me. mostly because what we have is ours, and no one knows. in the elevator last night, you and i held each other while you stole sips of my drink. then this morning your next to me, my arm around your neck. i left because you pulled away. i returned to the top floor to watch the sun rise over the mountains. there they were, so close and heavy. it was my first time visiting san pedro. what a beautiful place. i turn towards the mirror, and you place your arms around me, and there we are just rocking slowly, gazing at our reflection in the mirror. the same brown skin, the same color of brown eyes, the same black hair. its hard not to deny we look good together. still is what i'm feeling love or obsession? you hurt me and i'm still here? i present you with an animal and still you are here. we stand at the window with the same view of the mountains waiting for the elevator. we are silent. here we are, for each other, two imperfect friends. you manage to ask, "move with me to monterrey?" and then the elevator dings, and out steps the friend i've been jealous of the whole trip, standing their with the pathetic look of rejection on his face. what we have is ours, its real. though pain is inevitable, our quiet times, the peace, far outweighs our angry passion. 060615 ... pilot if there were some way to rid ourselves of the weight of this distance, the gnawing edge of distrust, the expectancy of being hurt, i would do what it took to be free. but as it is i am tied to this load, and am burdened by things you have spoken but now told me. and there is nothing for me to feel other than the premonition that this will all end a mess. 060715 ... pilot today ends the day in an eight month chapter. in less than one month i will see you again. things have changed, and you are no longer a boy in a grocery store with his arm around a girl, nor someone i hold when looking at stars, or embrace in an elevator. the beauty of life is the stories it creates. every 24 hours is a second chance at something new. i have enjoyed you, but in the end i know that what we had is no longer and is a reality that i can no longer idealize. know that i will always love you. 060825 ... pilot in less than three weeks we will see each other again, and we have been talking again...though it is not the same in many ways i feel that it is stronger and more lasting...to know that we have a history and memories. when i laugh with you i feel as though i haven't laughed so honestly before. when i arrive, i will embrace you and memorize your scent and the shape you take when in my arms. 060912 ... pilot in less than ten days i will be living in mexico, and i see pictures of you daily that make my heart sink. all i can think of is the weight that you cause me and the tug of pain that pulls at me when i recall these last months. we say we are friends until the end, but deeply i want you more than anything i've ever wanted, and there are no words to describe just how intensely i feel for you. if vesuvius errupted a second time and burried us like the citizens of Pompeii. if time just stopped and years from now scientists unearthed us perfectly preserved in that very second we died, i believe they would know what love was. 060920 ... pilot i'm still not quite sure that if you care so deeply for someone how it can hurt you so much. maybe after all i don't really love you and in fact i'm just in love with who you used to be. i know that you know longer look at me the same. and still i question is it in our power to remain friends, to be brothers, to support one another when through break ups and misfortune. is it in my power to build a wall around my heart and turn cool when you're around. and i return to the grocery store, and see a latin boy holding a girl, weighing a bag of apples in the scale and she is cradled against his torso and they are laughing, and i cannot help but imagine if it was you cradled against me in san pedro, in the elevator, or in the park looking at stars. ahead of us is a road that we must travel. i'll be there for two years or more and the only way to avoid one another is to pretend like nothing ever happened and simply nod as if we never met before. 060925 what's it to you? who go blather from