The Pavilion

When I was just out of high school and fresh to living out on my own, I spent my early days of  freedom sunning in the park, walking to Taco Bell, and generally being lazy with a lesbian named Michelle. We would spend hours on the steps of the park’s pavilion dreaming, of our future loves, and lovers. Somehow this involved a move to San Francisco. I would meet the love of my life in the mythic city. These were solid plans. Plans that turned out to never move from the marble steps of the pavilion into the world of reality. I think bout how easy a move would of been to pull off in 1990. Everything I owned would fit in the back of my ‘68 Mustang. No strings to tie me down. As of today I cannot actually tell you why I never did it, fear I guess. Fear of the unknown; of failure, maybe of this love of my life not existing in the real world. 

I started adult life in Denver. I got many-many jobs, slowly went through college, grew my hair out, shaved it off. Grew a beard, shaved it off.  Had string of boyfriends both bearded and un-bearded. It’s funny about my experiences with boyfriends during this time we will call Steve’s adult life. With every “love of my life” I had a sense of forcing the idea of love and companionship. Like that over-used song says, “ I would tell myself they were right for me, but I would feel so lonely in there company.”

During this long chapter I would find myself returning to the steps of park’s pavilion and find myself gazing off into my future countless times. These steps were my daydreaming space. I soon settled on the fact that this was, actually what love was. A cheesy song by Gotye about being in and out of love.  

This, without warning and without my approval, changed when I agreed to a lunch date with a man we will call, “The Amazing One.” Within the last couple of years The Amazing One and I started walking, these walks seem more and more end up at the pavilion in Cheesman Park. I sit and chat with the most amazing, talented, warm, smartest person I ever met. Every second I am filled with gratitude. As I sit and daydream with this amazing human, I think about my first summer sitting on the marble steps and how long it took to really find my place of contentment and pure happiness. The hows and whys don’t affect me any more. For the first time it’s real. As solid as the marble steps.