Lucius Bod | Rogue Diary

All about me has waned but my will to live, and to love ferociously after the exit of my lover. Ever since I landed in San Diego my life has become richer, deeper and more troubled. Love is a great part of it and it hurts and inspires me.

About six years of intimacy with this city's landmarks and experiences have brought me out of the brink of madness. I am now a San Diegan throughout. I live and work here now.

Back to love: Byron was the wrong lover, and I ended our relationship by making him hate me expertly: I turned on all that was bad in me to show until the result would feel as an allergic reaction to me. Never expected it to hurt so much...

For two months of my life we sinned and laughed, all amounting to a big depression at the end over how we spent so much time together unequally, in a sick symbiosis. We ended up hating each other just as fiercely as when we started in twisted love. We were never meant to be together.

However, that is not what now makes me peaceful and optimistic today. I have found surreptitious joy and stealthy, imaginative human stories every day I am in my building through living and dreaming with the tenants: palling with Gerard, my drunken neighbour and his out-of-control alcoholism; Kyle and the history of love we have shared ever since I moved into the building; my security staff acquaintances and our mutual respect, shown as kind remarks with back-handed mild mistrust as a sound feeling.

The rest of my life is underscored by the convoluted mess that is Kirk and the impossible dream to achieve that is becoming Romeo to Carlotta - my sister - as a deceived mate. Unruly mess, those two. Darnell, whose homelessness is a cause for daily concern; Guido, a portly bully I've known for six years and is linked to me because of mutual fun reasons involving touch. They are actors in my life, all at the same time.

I should bring you up to pace over the past six years, ever since I left Iowa - long story. Bizarre and beautiful is Iowa, both in spades. When I think of "the reds" and those gorgeous red and yellow leaves, I am in a wonderland of joy.

And then there is true, damaged and murky, true love in Condor, the wild card in my stack. Condor is unknown in every aspect: he's a man who reacts to my hand on him with a frolicking smile and full intent. When I need to kiss I usually do, but this one is special; a body and mind willing, but life has stomped on our luck by making him homeless. It all hurts every day, and yet some old films to watch can make me forget the pain. How I wish to have him near me now.

How should I explain two men, three females and a sixth shy man can bring such peace to me? I love them, and they love me in a truly unreserved way.

The day I decide to write a book will be my first under the sun. May there be light.