Coming and going
So I never made it to the Homecoming party. I can't say I regret it. But even though I had a great time last night and hung out with dear friends, I would have liked to go to the party. For all time's sake, I guess. Not that I did not enjoy myself last night, but there's this little part of me that misses going out and dancing and laughing at silly things and being ... free?
I am feeling a little overwhelmed, I guess, with all these changes that have happened in the last year. I can't believe it's the same time of the year last year. I was different, I guess. I have been changing in so many ways that I can't even keep track of what it is that has changed in me. I imagine that it is that I have more responsibilities, that there are other people depending on my being efficient or not, that there are more 'things' that I 'need' to do.
Still, my life, my real life is more upside down than ever. Counseling kind of helped for awhile but then we stopped going. I think I have to go on my own to finish finiding out what is it that makes me so unhappy at times. I have a man, I have a job, I'm suppossed to be happy. Still, I have so many unresolved issues (my legal status, my learning to give in to so many things, my reticence to being submissive, my rebelliousness, and so many other things...)that I guess it's going to take me the rest of my life to look at each one of them in detail. Maybe that's what 'growing up' means. We're a fucking work in progress to the day we die. Wonderful.
I sometimes think that there is a deep dissatisfaction in me. Something I cannot or will not pinpoint to myself because I'm afraid of what I'll find out. Funny, isn't it? That we tend to know ourselves more than what we're willing to accept. Only to backpedal as soon as we have an idea of what's going on... and what we need to do to improve things. I sometimes find that depressing. Some others, assuring. Who the hell knows?
I imagine one of the main motives for not going into my very own Pandora's box is related to some news I got today: two of my friends -dear and close- have broken up after some years together. And they seemed so happy! One never knows, I guess, what's going on behind closed doors and tight smiles. I guess that's one of my fears: failing. I have Fear of Failing. Like Erica John's novel but gay.
Oh, well. I imagine the day will come that I'll have to face my little demons. In the meantime, I'll just be one more Desperate Husband.