Like Sands through the hourglass

So after many shots of tequila, a failed bid at a runway walking contest, and more beer than anyone should have had to drink, I sauntered home with A-Game and crashed. We got up early the next morning, had some coffee at starbucks, and got ready for the first day of our conference.

The conference was—of course—the most amazing part of the trip. I love The National Latina Institute for Reproductive Health. It is my favorite organization in the world. They are a great group that works for Reproductive Justice, which is what’s most important to me. The reality is this organization melds all the issues that matter together, to seek comprehensive solutions to problems facing Latinos in America.

A slight deviation from the story for a second to illustrate why Reproductive Justice is important to me. The following is an excerpt from an email I sent to friends and colleagues about NLIRH:

The term Reproductive Justice was first introduced to me at a training in Albuquerque that NLIRH had done. This term really summed up what I already knew, and wish more people were talking about. The reality is that it isn't enough to have a "Right to Choose" for women, if we don't have access to health insurance/healthcare, in order to utilize those "rights." It isn't enough to have healthcare if we don't have access to living-wage-paying jobs that allow us as communities to care for our children, parents, and loved ones. What good is it to have a good paying job is the environmental injustices in our neighborhoods are so great that our kids are growing up with asthma and mental health issues, our quality of life is so low? If we can't come out of hiding as Immigrants, to pursue the American Dream that brought us here, does it do any good to have clinicas open to the masses of undocumented immigrants? If we are still living in homophobia and racism, what does it matter if our communities have been provided a "pathway to citizenship?"

The inter-sectionality of these issues is incredibly obvious to me, and so few people are willing to recognize it. It is for this reason that I am in love with NLIRH.

So we spent a good portion of the day hungover, but learning new things about the issues we care about and a little bit about advocacy and community organizing which is always good to hear again.

The day was nearing an end, and even though I had been told by Galan that he would meet me at the hotel around 6:30 when our day ended, I was beginning not to believe it. I didn’t know what I wanted to do, I just knew I didn’t want to walk around town looking at monuments with A-Game and other women from the conference. So I decided to take a slow shower, and get ready on my own pace. If he called he did, if not, I’d go out alone-done it many times before in DC would do it again. By the time A-Game had left and I was sitting comfortable on the bed cleaning my nails, my phone rang. He had been called into work for a while and would be arriving at the hotel around 8. I knew this meant 9 or 9:30 so I said sure, and got ready by 8 just in case.

I’d like to say that I had prepared myself again, for the reality that he wasn’t coming, but I hadn’t. I was excited and what not all over again. I kept re reading the inscription on the book, and changing my outfit, again and again, and again. Of course when a Gay man packs for 4 days its two weeks worth of clothes, well I mixed and matched and re matched everything, I tried on two months worth of combinations, and of course, went with the one I had on first.

I decided to wander outside to smoke a cigarette, needing the claming effect of doubled blood pressure, head-spins, and increased heart rate (all side effects of smoking).

Galan called at five after 8, my heart sunk, he was calling on time, to tell me he was running late or bailing….I knew it…

Actually he wanted to make sure he was walking the right direction, by the time he asked the question he had turned the corner and I could see him in plain view. Sweaty palms, nervous teeth grinding, and scared-of-eye-contact looking away, I said hello and asked what he wanted to do. I was sure to mention I was starving and needed to eat dinner for sure.

His suggestion was to get liquor at the store next door, grab food downstairs, and spend the night chilling in our hotel room drinking and chatting.

What? You want to be in a room where the only furniture is a bed, drinking hard liquor, and talking intimately? Well…ok…twist my arm!!!!

So we grabbed dinner, and sat on the bed eating, talking. We talked about everything, his trip to Latin America to see family, the work he is doing now, and where is in life path he thinks he is.

It is important to note that these are some of the reasons I’m in love with him so much. He went to visit family; while he was there he met with the mayor of the city to help secure space for a new clinic to help deal with HIV rates in the area. He also learned a lot about his culture, including how to cook the local foods. He shared with me the experiences he had growing up, and how they screwed him up emotionally in so many ways. We had the really intimate conversations, about coming out, and about where we want to go with our lives. I told him about the new developments in life with my dad, and not sure of where to go next in my career etc… It was really great.

But where it wasn’t going, was anywhere physically. And I knew if I didn’t give him a reason to stick around he’d get the impression that I was ready for him to split so that I could go clubbing or something else.

He made drinks for us; this would be my first one with vodka in it, surprise for those of you who know me-yes I drank cranberry juice and ice without vodka!!!

When he was done making the drinks I just did what I had to do. I grabbed him, and started kissing him. He kissed me back, passionately, and with hunger on his lips. We’d finally gotten to that moment.

He and I had kissed before, but never like this. Never in a way that we knew we wanted each other. This time is was obvious that keeping our clothes on was going to be the most difficult exercise in restraint we’d eve experienced. But was that really what we wanted to do, keep our clothes on? Restrain ourselves, again?

This is where details from the story are left out, because, well frankly, I don’t want to publish everything on this website, that would be quite dumb I’m sure…

*** *** *** ***

The next morning, I opened my eyes to see that it hadn’t been a dream at all… In my arms, sleeping comfortably was the man of my dreams. The man that I was at one point too afraid to talk to-even in a professional setting. The man who I had stumbled over myself multiple times, to try to get a date with, but could never quite ask the question. The man I never thought I’d wake up to, but always wanted to wake up to multiple mornings in a row…

I spoke softly into his ear: Galan, would you like some coffee?

“Si” and he rolled over slightly to kiss me. I couldn’t believe it; I was in such shock I almost left the hotel without any clothes on at all…

This picture is obviously not of that morning, cause why would I stop to chat on the phone outside starbucks when he was in bed? But its a good illustration...