Look. We can all acknowledge that this is a difficult time to be … I was going to start talking about men, but it’s a difficult time to be a PERSON. And it’s been especially hard for anyone with any self-awareness, forced to acknowledge the world and society and relationships and the part we’ve all played in the collective fuck-hour that is our current state. That being said, it’s also a time of LIBERATION and gender-bending and metamorphosis, and that is cause for us to open our arms wider, to help and accept one another as we all do some major soul-searching.
Here’s our friend Bob. He has loved us and this blog so much, from the very beginning. And we love him too. He’s going to pop in every now and then to share a bit of the male HOITO perspective, and we’re thrilled to have him. Please send him your love too!
Remember when Brad Pitt cried in Legends of the Fall? I was too busy being a teenager to think about it at the time, and now here I am at thirty[CENSORED] years old, crying in the bathtub and thinking about how strange it feels to cry when crying seems like something that only other people do.
This is and has been a hard year, and I don’t even want to talk about why. And really, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that it was really hard for me to talk about being sad, so I didn’t. I just kept going along.
Then one day it happened. Like a ceremony. I was home alone (rare). I got a bottle of beer from the fridge, slowly walked into my room, changed into a robe (first took off all my clothes, then got into a robe, only to then get in the bath? Seems AND WAS dramatic), drew a bath, put lavender bath salts in, sat and watched it fill, undressed, got in, sunk down into the water, and then just full-on SOBBED. It was the most un-glorious eye-roll-inducing shoulders-convulsing sobbing that a dude has ever done in a bathtub and it felt terrible. Did that for a while, stopped for a minute, had a few sips of beer, then started all over again.
So it felt terrible and to make matters slightly worse, it started something which can only be described as my new crying-all-the-time phase. I cried at the end of Charlotte’s Web. I cried when listening to the Ryan Adams version of Taylor Swift’s 1989 album. I cried in my friend’s bathroom at a party.
But then I guess I just started talking about it? I’m not sure how it happened. I just couldn’t take it anymore. I called a friend and told him that I NEEDED to see him. So we met, had a drink and over dinner I told him that I had just been crying all the time. Best thing I’ve done all year. He held my hand at the table and smiled at me while I cried a little bit more. Why did I think that I shouldn’t tell my friends? I started to be more open about it and it felt crazy and great.
Thanks for inviting me in to write a few things, M&V. I’m excited to talk about some middle-aged-man things like feelings and skinny legs and clothes, but thought I’d better get this out there right away.