Vanilla American German-Speaking Hippie

Nur wer die Sehnsucht kennt Only those who know longing
Weiß, was ich leide! Know what sorrows me
Allein und abgetrennt Alone and separated
Von aller Freude, From all joy,
Seh ich ans Firmament I look into the sky
Nach jener Seite. To the yonder side

Ach! der mich liebt und kennt, Ah! the one who loves and knows me
Ist in der Weite. Is in the distance.
Es schwindelt mir, es brennt It dizzies me, it burns
Mein Eingeweide. my guts.
Nur wer die Sehnsucht kennt Only those who know longing
Weiß, was ich leide! Know what sorrows me!

My connection with/to German is different than any other. German was a language that I self-taught. I had textbooks from the early 20th century (which used an archaic typeface). The books were written for American or English speakers which is how we learn the pronunciation.
No one in my family spoke German so it was one of the few interests that never had interference by anyone else. Some German speakers that I knew were not too keen speaking German to an American. Some couldn't even believe that an American could possibly learn German. "It's a very complex language. You wouldn't be able to understand it."
My first trip to Germany was in the 1970s. I went to Munich and had a rail pass. I visited Frankfurt-am-Main and Ruhrgebiet (Cologne, Essen, Düsseldorf) and I saw Mannheim, Heidelberg, and many villages in the Odenwald.
I wasn't out-out at the time. I sort of knew what I liked (vanilla sex with men), but I was not one to initiate anything. You never know if you are going to be trapped or what the culture is like. The strangest place to meet a man? How about a toilet at a cemetery?
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Years have gone by since my undergraduate days, my move to San Francisco, my move to Los Angeles. I bought a tiny bungalow and lived there long enough to know that the outside needed painting; and I had it done.
Boyfriends? There was Stephen, and Michael, and Karl, and David. None of them shared his life with me and none of them lasted longer than a year. Stephen was a ad from the Village Voice. He was the poster and a friend of mine replied to him. Stephen liked me more than the other guy. Stephen was very opportunistic. I had a car and made enough money to buy gas.
Michael I met in college. He was (and still is) about 7 years older than I am. He became a Spanish teacher and taught high school Spanish for the Department of Education (better known as the New York Board of Education). He preferred to get drunk on beer or high on beer. At one time he even sent one of my letters back. For years he didn't own a phone.
We made up. Never slept with each other again. He's rather full of himself. He also drives like a maniac.
Karl! He went by the name Gene. He was a hair colorist in West Hollywood. I met him in a bar (who'd have known he had a drinking problem). He was a good cook and the sex was fun. We even went on a day cruise. Then, one day, in the heat of the moment, I said something that killed the buzz forever. I told him that I loved him.
David. We met in a volunteer program. He was in recovery from alcoholism. More of a dry drunk than anything else. He was a handyman and also had a full time job as a phlebotomist. Very unavailable due to migraines. He asked me to move in with him and I learned that his ex-lover still lived with him and that that situation was not going to change. Moving in with someone who still lives with an ex-? A few days before the moving date, he broke it off with me. Seems he had co-dependency issues and was very disappointed that I was not effecting any of the changes he had planned to have happen.
I found a place in Hollywood. I lived there from 1993 to 1995 and then I moved across the street from 1995-2001. And in 2001 I bought my tiny house. And here I still am.
My flavor hasn't changed over the years. I don't generally get hot and bothered to the image of a German guy. In fact, most of my fantasies with with men from the 1930s who were filmed in black-and-white. I get to add my own color.