holding pattern

Two of my friends announced their engagement to my roommate and myself tonight. Amanda messaged me saying she had news and that we should join her for a drink at Cafe Baudelair. I was anticipating an engagement announcement and while I was exited both for the news and for the couple in question I felt a bit numb on the inside. The conversation at the bar merged seamlessly from talk of engagement and the impending wedding ceremony to feminism, standpoint theory, and racial / economic privilege but my mind never really left the topic of marriage. To understand my obsession we have to go back a week or so to a completely different conversation in completely different circumstances.

My undergraduate advisor at Illinois College, Beth Capo, is currently teaching in Japan on a Fullbright scholarship. Prior to her departure from this continent our conversations were limited to facebook messages and chats at The Three Legged Dog when I was home on break. For an extend stay in Japan, however, she branched out to Skype. It felt weird to Skype her when I saw her online for the first time--academic relationships are often defined and redefined by barriers--but the conversation that ensued was surprisingly comfortable. In passing I mentioned my jealousy that she was in Japan--think of it, a new apartment, a new culture to experience on a daily basis, new foods, new drinks, exciting and challenging teaching experiences. Her response was typical Capo--instead of basking her the glow of her experiences she flipped the emphasis back to me. "Think of how jealous people are of YOU. I am not joking. You live in Iowa." Yeah, I do live in Iowa, a state that not only guarantees the rights for gays to marry but has, since its inception as a state, a long history of civil rights victories. Her statement called for pause and reflection.

That reflection, which in the style of my thinking rolls around in my brain's washing machine for days, is combined with my recent interaction with a fraternity for gay and progressive men and the ensuing explosion of friends and acquaintances who are of my, well, let's say persuasion. That reflection came to a head tonight when celebrating the engagement of two friends in combination with near constant thoughts of where I will end up at the end of this year when I graduate with an M.A. in English literature.

When I first moved to Iowa I was convinced that I was moving to the white trash, hick, backwater state of the midwest. I couldn't have been more wrong. Imagine my shock when, months after my arrival, Iowa made gay marriages legal. Whatever I end up doing after this bout of schooling, I would prefer not to leave Iowa. Living in a state that prizes civil rights at the sake of "social comfort" for the majority of conservative, white, middle class, Christians has been a cherished experience and I am not ready to give up that comfort.

Thoughts like these--a strong desire not to leave the land of gay marriage combined with increased interaction in the gay community combined with confronting an engagement head on--have led me to wonder the following: what would I do if I found myself in a committed, lovign relationship in the next year? It is, of course, entirely situational--it depends on the relationship. But let's suppose I found myself in a relationship where I was truly happy, where I could be myself, bare all emotion and reciprocate that process in a mutually beneficial way with my partner. Faced with the great unknown that comes at the completion of a degree, what would I do? Would I propose? Would I get married? Hypothetical questions that are, by and large, futile in a time when I have no prospects of any relationship, not to mention one that is committed. Nevertheless, they are questions perfectly suited to my mind--one that always reaches ahead to the the "what ifs" in its path.

Then we reach the part of the analysis that begs the question what does this line of thinking mean in a more meta context? Perhaps I am more ready than ever to take on a relationship? Does that mean I am looking? Perhaps, perhaps not. Some days I am convinced that I am not looking for a relationship. Other days I am convinced I am ready and unconsciously on the prowl. In the end it will be time that tells the truth but for some reason this particular line of thought and introspection has given me something resembling peace of mind.

Earlier tonight my roommate and I had a conversation about dates that trouble us. My particular date is always September first--the anniversary of my mother's passing. We talked about how it is important to be around for each other on days that are troubling to the soul and she apologized for not being there for mine this year. "Jordan," I said, "I wasn't available on my day this year. It wasn't you." It was at that point in the conversation that I realized I was doing something important for the process of recovery on that day. I was playing kickball with the men of Delta Lambda Phi, making friends, discovering people, discovering things about myself. I was living and growing, which is just what my mother would have wanted me to do.

And these questions, "What would I do if...?" lead me to believe the same sort of thing. I am still simultaneously out there and in here. I am living and growing constantly, steadily making the slow transition from closeted, insecure man to self-accepting, hopeful, open man. I think sometimes that this progress is all we can ask for.