Wings
(This one's for Brian.)
For the first time, I decided not to revolt.
For the first time, I decided not to fight.
That's almost revolutionary for someone like me, who is always on the defensive, always ready to detach and run, always afraid that something bad will happen, ... I have the wits of a household cat.
You know what it feels like? It feels like have dark matter inside. And it grows. It doesn't stop until you decide to spit it out. (You know what I like to compare it to? Like coughing up phlem when you have a cold.)
So on Thursday, I decided that to do just that: I coughed it up. It wasn't anything aesthetically pleasing, and I certainly wasn't graceful. For someone who expresses best with words, the medium of my thoughts escaped me and left me stuttering and mute. I guess my purpose of discussion wasn't to communicate; I just wanted to get something out so that I could move on with you.
I told you what I had been dealing with for the past month or so. No, actually, what I'd been dealing with since day 1. So to have heard from you first hand and non-pretentiously how you feel was poignant. Fear dissipated. I seriously have never felt so ... light. It's like you took the lead off of my shoulders and gave me wings. I have never felt so ready to let you show me what I've never understood and what I've been missing. It took me two months. I guess I'm just someone who have always lived with insecurity, someone who needs more reassurance than others. I might even think it's an accomplishment in and of itself. I can only hope that I make you feel like you are the man that you want to be. I'll be there along the way for you.
And after all that, I had the best Saturday with you.
I love happy endings.
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