Sex

Sex and the city.
I used to watch the show religiously. Well, this was way before Queer as Folk, before gay men actually could talk about their lives and sex and show their assess in cable television. Carrie and her friends, though flawed and narcissistic and self-centered and enabling (they enabled each other's neuroses and maladjustments) were a very good reflection of my narcissism and maladjustments. And I'm still narcissistic. And maladjusted. That's why I loved the movie. You see, I grew up in my head. Reading books that were beyond my years and living a life that was too mature for my age. So being narcissistic and maladjusted is MY normal.
And what is normal after all? Conforming? Contemplating? Complying? Corroding from inside because you do not fit the mold? I think that Carrie and Miranda and Samantha and Charlotte were all parts of me. Of that part of me that likes clothes and funny food and that thinks that Mr.Right is Big. And that part of me secretly desired to have a man who told me that he'd love me forever and that would surprise me with silly (yet expensive) nothings while we rode in a limo in Manhattan. Why not? I do not buy the Cinderfella myth. It's not like I want a man to rescue me. But I do want a man to accompany me, to comfort me, to love me. And I think I have found him.
He may not be Big (nobody can be Big, duh!). But he is who he is. And going through this depression and the self-hurt thoughts and the therapy and the fear to be put on medication I realize that I really love my man. It's the thought of being left without him that drives me crazy. It's the idea of losing him (more than losing the life I have built for myself) that really drives me literally crazy and gives me panic attacks.
But I'll just let it rest. My story may not have a truly movie ending (nor does this Sex and The City movie) but a REAL ongoing development. Because I guess there is not really a happy ending to expect. Because life is not like that. Only fairy tales have happy endings. And we all know that fairy tales are just that: tales.
Meanwhile, back to my life. Hopefully, I'll recover my mojo and will back in action in some time. Wish me luck. Because even though I've always have had it (you really have no idea how lucky I've been to this point and I'm just realizing it) feeling those good wishes really feel good.
And when the movie rolls by a theater near you, INDULGE. I did it. And will do it again some of these days.

Cheers!