Over a Martini

Sigh... I think I'm ready to write some more again. It's been quite crazy this whole year. It's been quite hard to find time to sit and write. Although this is the case, I've been doing much blogging in my head. With an apple martini in hand and nothing on, but boxers... I feel free enough to write.

I think over the past two months I've made some "improvements" in my life... or so I think. They are more like baby baby steps that I've been taking. Maybe by the end of this summer I would be taking toddler steps. So, what "improvements" have I made thus far? Well, for starters, I've added some "extracurricular activities" to my life. Largely I made this change in my life because I'm trying to cut the rebound period shorter. I figured if I allow my inner emotions chart my life's course, I would end up no where anytime soon.

The first step I took was recognize the fact that I needed a change. The next step was a bit of luck and a bit of determination on my part. As most know, if you have been a regular reader of my blog, I've been using my blog as a sounding board to figure out a part of me. A part of me that in some ways "hold" me back. I've been speaking with a counselor for about 3-4 sessions already. I have one tomorrow evening.

Through this counselor, I've been working on a part of my past that kinda explains the way I am today. I think after my session tomorrow, I will be able to blog about Professor X. To think of it, I've never spoke of Professor X to anyone, not even to my ex or to my first. I never was able to figure out that period of my life. It was full of conflict and contradictory thoughts. But, I think deep down inside of me, I already knew the truth.

I'm hoping that understanding this period of my life would help me in some ways live a little differently in the present. I'm also hoping that understanding this period of my life would free me of my past and help me live my life now.

My last session with my counselor brought me to tears. My counselor even seemed to have watery eyes too. His eyes were a bit red as I teared up. He even allowed me to continue to speak beyond my one hour allotment. I couldn't believe it. I spoke non-stop for an hour with tissue in hand. Even as I blog at the moment, I feel sad and teary eyed. With the passage of time, I've nearly forgotten most of the intricacies of my relationship with this professor.

I purposefully try to remember this period of my life, because I believe it would provide some answers to my present. My aspiration of writing a book and then starting this blog all revolves around this period of my life... simply wanting to solve it... understand it. After all, this period of my life left me with razor marks on my arm and the desire to cut myself when depressed... and enjoy it too. I admit, this is a very scary secret that I'm sharing with strangers who read this blog. I don't care. I want to be transparent about this. This may be a turn off to friends and family too, but I don't care. If you don't know me by now and you consider me to be a friend or family, get past this and see me in my entirety. If this causes you to label me as being weak, so be it. I'm only human and I am allowed to be weak. With God as my witness, I've fought my battles head on. I am allow to falter... I am human. I am human. I am human.

Believe me... at times I want to cut myself like in the past. The blood that flows and the wound that burns, pales in comparison to the pain that's on the inside. Cutting myself made the pain on the inside more tangible. Instead of focusing on the internal struggle, focusing on the burning sensation was easier to deal with... and at times... pleasurable. I remember laughing and smiling at my arm as the blood seeped through the razor cuts.

Cutting myself was the least of my worries. It was something I could deal with. It was the professor. It was he that was difficult to deal with.

Today was a day where I felt vulnerable again. The last time I felt vulnerable was when Sylvester was slowly dying in my arms. The day started out fine. I was even invited to join in on the Queen's pride parade. I didn't go because I felt I was somewhat of an afterthought and mainly because by the time I got to Queens, it would be 3pm and I would only see the tail end of the parade... just to head home again.

Since I decided that I wasn't going to the parade, I decided to be productive at home. I decided to fix my leaky faucet. I pulled out my HomeDepot CD and reviewed the steps of changing the cold water faucet's washer. I got out my tools and knelt down to turn off the main water supply and that was when my world fell apart. My worst nightmare happened. The ancient main valve sprung a leak after I turned it to shut off the water supply. Ironic isn't it? I believe it was a message sent from above that I was meant to head to that parade anyway... regardless of whether I was an afterthought or whether I was arriving there to greet the paraders good-bye.

As the water came out in a stream, I tried so hard to stop it. I felt so lost for a moment. I wanted to panic and to give into my fears. I caught myself on the verge of wanting to cry and to really panic. I stopped. I remembered Sylvester as I was kneeling on the floor. I remembered how I wanted to be stronger and I remembered how I wanted to be a better fighter. I stood up. I got together a series of baking pans and basins to catch the water. I called my contractor. I called the in-house plumber. I refused to be weak. I remembered Sylvester in my arms and how helpless I was. I remembered those terrible feelings of being on my own. I remembered my tears. I remembered the desire of fighting on. I fought on.

After all is said and done... I lost an afternoon, but gained a stronger will to fight my inner fears. I am still weak as I'm only human, but I know I am now better prepared. I am a bit stronger. I can fight my fears better. Perhaps I am a step closer to being a single father.

I want another drink.