This post is Rated M for Alcohol Reference, Strong Language, Mature Humor, Sexual Content, Sexual Violence, and a ton of other shit I shouldn’t be telling you.
I’ve been on fire lately — working so hard and volunteering so much that I hardly stop to write. I’m still keeping a healthy balance, but doing so through equal parts love and sin as opposed to abstinence from both extremes. My love recently has come through in HRC, the community, politics, Carlos’ unending mentorship, forgiving and helping my dirty ass friends, and appreciating new connections. The sinning has been…well…hot. I know the brighter the candle burns, the faster it melts, but to that I say: “Everything about life is temporary, even love and sin. We all take what we can and the lucky ones are those that learn to appreciate it.” I’ll just pack the heat and lick the gun when I’m done.
I have a taste for strong living. Even when my body shuts down and I get sick, I take minimum rest and am back in the race before anyone even realizes I’m gone. When I’m overworking, I compensate by being something of a firebomb — a flaming car speeding to an unknown destination at 100 MPH burning passion as fuel and stopping only on impact or explosion. Such was the case last weekend when I drank my ass off and ended up with alcohol poisoning. I’m not really much of a drinker since my gluttony has always been more food oriented. However, I spent last Saturday puking, shaking and unable to get out of bed for 24 hours. I overshot the sin quota and ended up with a world of pain and sloth.
On Super Bowl Sunday the sinning got more interesting as wrath and lust combined. Relaxed by our two established rules of friendship (no sex and no falling in love), I let down my guard with a man. I mean that rather literally since apparently I’m kind of into passionate (read: violent) foreplay. My strong military friend smacked me and threw me against his walls and I loved it. Punching him in his side and then lovingly caressing his face with my hands and softly kissing his lips, I realized that the extremes were apparent in every aspect of my life. I live, love and sin with passion.
He recognized and respected this as we talked, and defended my overzealousness by saying that “overachieving is like greed. [It] is a necessary sin for success.” Him mentioning one of the seven deadly sins was pure coincidence, but it made me all the more grateful for my character. Today at work, my more critical boss called me “fiery” and surprised me by saying he enjoyed my feisty side. He called it “refreshing,” which is especially odd considering that he, like many other military men, usually sees me as overly brazen. I’m like a male, modern day Scarlett O’Hara. I know it’s dangerous for me to be so prideful in my behavior, but it has been effective and it’s what comes naturally to me.
If I ever get too out of control, I know I can count on my best friend to knock me down a peg. On Monday he ripped me to shreds over the HRC Connect social. While it was a huge success as far as fun and turnout and organizational awareness, I didn’t collect any names or share the brief informational program I had planned for the event. The venue was too cramped for the massive number of people that showed up so I had to scrap the “work” side of things and just let people drink, play the dating game and socialize. My dear friend then insisted I failed to create any real or sustainable change with the event. I apologized for the honest miscalculation of attendance and feasibility and promised that he and I shared the same community goals. It was only my first social and I promised better balance in the future, but things got heated. Our tempers especially flared when I accused him of envy. My white privilege allows me to jump from disenfranchised activist to social elite at my convenience and it’s an asset not everyone shares. I recognize that and try to use it for good, but sometimes it’s easy to forget the big picture, as he did, and see me as an enemy. I assured him that my passion was positive social change and ultimately we made up. He is the only person I know who expresses himself in the same way that I do and, while our fire keeps us fighting, it also keeps us loving one another.
The fire that burns, also blazes trails. Life just wouldn’t be the same without the crackling wrath, the bruises of lust, or the burning love I keep in my heart.
