The Last Page

No, I'm not married. A few people have left me messages eager for details of my meeting with Crunchy. Sorry to keep you in suspense, as I realize this blog is the most exciting reading a person could ever hope to experience. (Remove tongue from cheek now.)

A storm delayed my return to Portland, and I spent last night on a cot at Chicago O'Hare. I suppose that is a fair exchange for four days of intense happiness.

How can I sum it all up? Crunchy and I had a memorable and wonderful time together. It was too short, and reflecting on the memories brings tears to my eyes. I'm feeling selfish at the moment. Because I treasure "Crunch Time" so much, I really want to keep it all to myself right now. Since I've shared so much in this blog, it doesn't seem fair to suddenly clam up now, does it? Since I've met him in person, he's not just a blogger I have a crush on anymore. And that's why it is time for a bit more privacy, I guess.

As The Handsome Prince tells me, "Filter, Todd. Filter."

So here is what I can tell you:
The extended weekend was fantastic! One of the things I enjoyed was talking with Patrick late into the night about our pasts and about our futures. I left Cleveland with a new perspective. A hope in my heart has reappeared. For a long time I thought that each person only got one chance at love, and I believed CT was my chance. Thanks, in part, to Patrick, I know I have been wrong, because I see the way he inspired me to take a chance in flying to meet him. It is possible that I can really open up to another man and trust him. Some of my friends thought I was crazy to try this experiment. Others worried that I was going with so little money and so much trust in someone I'd never met in person.

One question Patrick has asked me since the day I first contemplated buying a ticket to Ohio has been, "Is the reward worth the risk?"

He asked me that again yesterday before I got on the plane, and my answer was a resounding YES.

Two and a half years ago, I began a new journal. My first entry was written the day CT and I broke up. That journal is filled with pages and pages of loneliness, doubt, pain, tales of single life, sexcapades, fears, and questions. Yesterday, in the Cleveland airport, I wrote the final page of that journal detailing my trip and all that I learned. The last page of my journal is an expression of the hope I have in my heart.

In summary:
When you visit a guy and he sends you home with hope in your heart and an industrial-sized bottle of Heinz Ketchup, I call that an awesome date.