This is not a post where I’m going to debate in my own head whether or not to continue this so-called blog. It will continue, despite the fact that I seem to accentuating the erratic part of it these days. This is an accounting how this came about, how I have come to this point, and what may be coming in the future.

Few people know that what is here is the third incarnation of this blog. I wiped clean two previous attempts. The first attempt was about 10 months after I first met Scott. Like it or not, I have to admit that he had a lot to do with the failures of the first two, and the fact that this one lived on. (Warning: This is going to get long.)

I met Scott literally on ski slopes of Whistler. My friend John and I were there for Gay Ski Week. John had met Scott in a guided skiing tour, which I had missed because of a job-related emergency. The next day, I did make the group ski, John introduced us, and that was that. Keep in mind we were both wearing bulky jackets and hats, so all we really could see of each other were our faces. But I was smitten, and we spent the entire day skiing back and forth crossing each other’s path, flirting. The next day was Valentine’s Day, and there was a mountain top party. I didn’t leave Scott’s side the entire time, and that night was our first kiss. After the party was over, and we had too many cocktails, we ended up making a spectacle all over Whistler. Two days later, John and I were traveling back to DC, and Scott back to Chicago. Scott and I agreed that we would try and see each other. While John and I were stuck in Toronto for three days (another story for another time) I made arrangements to visit my friends in Chicago, and see Scott in the process.

That first visit, I really fell for him. He collected me up from the airport, and as I came out of the terminal, there he was looking incredibly suave. (In hindsight, he must have been trying really hard to impress me. Suave is just not an adjective I would associate with him.) That was that, and we would spend the next few years shuttling between Chicago and DC.

It didn’t take long for things to get messy. Scott and I seemed to… errr… energize each other’s passions. We would fight, oh boy would we fight, especially if any alcohol was involved. Usually, it would end with me crying, somebody packing their stuff up and threats to leave or kick the other out. I once spent the majority of a planned week together in Chicago with at my friends’ place after a particularly bad fight. That was when I first formulated this blog. Scott and I ignored worked through our problems, and the blog was wiped.

I always knew that I would probably be the one to relocate, but I wasn’t ready to do this until we learned interact in a more civil manner. We never would. Fast forward… in another fight about some non-issue, Scott bluntly said “I’m not moving to DC”. I got quiet, explained that I knew I would have to move, that I had no problem moving to Chicago, but couldn’t make that leap the way we were. The next year, we would be basically going through the motions. We would see less and less of each other. Finally, the visits almost stopped, and we stopped talking about our future. We still talked almost every day, so I figured it might be salvageable. One day, he called me, seemingly very excited about cheap airfare to DC. This was our opportunity to shit or get off the pot. Unfortunately, the day before he was to fly in, he called and said he wasn’t going to come, that he was tired and didn’t feel well. I was distraught… I was in my office sobbing on the phone, pleading he come, explaining that we needed this weekend one way or another. I begged him to reconsider, and to call me the next day. He didn’t. I knew we were basically done. That night was the only time I cheated on him.

We did limp along for another month. A small (very optimistic) part of me we could still get back to a good place. We spoke one day, and things seemed to be better. That was the last time I spoke to him. He just stopped calling, didn’t take my calls, and never returned my messages. No “this isn’t going to work”, no “I don’t love you anymore”. Nothing at all. I never imagined that a relationship measured in years would end like that.

At first, I was a mess… I thought maybe there had been an accident, and I wasn’t there to take care of him. I was checking the Tribune for articles and obituaries for any indication. Finally, I called a friend of his, and just asked for any confirmation he was OK, or if I should be on the next plane to Chicago. His friend told me he was fine, so I tucked my tail between my legs and went on.

During most of our relationship, I put a lot of my life on hold. Many weekends, I was traveling to Chicago. When we were in DC, I arranged we hang with friends he knew well, at the expense of others he didn’t. Every moment of those visits was “us” time. When we were apart, we spent most night on the phone for hours. Even during that last year, when our relationship was on life support, I didn’t go out as often or take up new hobbies. Socially, I felt I should only be out and about with Scott, plus I figured I might have been moving to Chicago soon.

So in the aftermath, what you see here was born. I wasn’t entirely sure where I was going with it, but I had a vague idea. Some people use their blogs as online journals. Others use their blogs as editorial platforms for subjects that interest them. There are even some that use them as a catharsis for life-altering events. I figured that this one would be an amalgam of those.

I discovered that I was not yet at a place where I was comfortable putting myself out there. While I had a few personal anecdotes and photos at first, those started to dwindle and this started to become more topical and less personal. With one exception, I have not really talked about anything deep in my head. Many people who know me may find this unbelievable, but in some respects I am incredibly private.

Through this blog, I have had many folks contact me. Everyone has generally been kind. Some even invite me into their life. Up to now, I’ve resisted. That changes starting with this post. You will see much more of me here. I figured I start with the car, and go from there.

The past year or so has been about me reasserting myself. I’ve taken up rowing, started some freelance work, and remodelled a bathroom. There are still a few things I need to do, but it’s time for JD to come back out into the sunshine.

Anyone who has reached out to me, and may think I’m a snob or an asshole for not responding: it wasn’t anything personal. I just needed to lick my wounds and figure out what’s next. I had two very sweet men offer up their hearts this past year, but I wasn’t ready for that either.

To make a very short story long, you will see more of me on this blog.