Love's Naloxone Or Taking the Anti-love pill. Part eleven – Killing Moon: Prometheus Bound and Gagged

         I’ve attempted to write this a long time ago and have made many attempts to do so only to get up in embarrassment and anger, giving up on it. There is nothing so frustrating than to attempt to communicate an idea or feeling to others, especially if it’s in many ways too close home. You are immediately transported into your adolescence with full notable arousal while attempting to speak in front of a group of giggling peers. It’s trying to ask an adult something that you have no idea how to express all the while trying to fight the overwhelming embarrassment. It’s the moment where you meet up with someone you are infatuated and you both are walking around the elephant in the room when there is a surge of hormones fighting you in every step in the way trying to have you take more of a primordial manner to ripping clothing and fulfilling an evolutionary need that you still can not comprehend.

          Yea, I’m trying to bring this up and I’m having the damnest time trying to even find a way to even start it off. To be honest, I don’t even thing this will end up published. I have to admit to you that I’m in no way embarrassed about this. It pretty difficult much open to nearly everything I’ve lived and participated in my time and yet there is a gray area that I have to fence off time to time. Something that forces me to speak in the third person (not in that douchy ME ME ME way, but in a story telling manner) instead of using any personal pronoun. I have to find a safe place to distance myself in order to approach the topic properly and to be as candid. After all, I honestly believe that one’s sexuality is beyond important and as you can often tell there are some individuals that seem to live in conflict with it and can not find peace in the primary urges that drive up not only to survive, but to propagate. This is the kind of thing that most shove certain aspects of their sexual identity into a closet somewhere due to the fact that it is no encouraged, outlawed, seemed perverse, and even villainized by a hypocritical society.

          Before you assume anything, I’m not coming out. I’m not only straight, but on the Kinsey scale I’m either a hard 1 or a reluctant 2. Not saying that men can not be attractive and there is no possibility that I will never become a 4 or 5, but I reserve that clause in the same way that I will declare that I will never take someone’s life, life from another planet will not be found or there is not deity in charge. As close to a percentage, you have to have an error amount if only to show possibility and being secure enough in my sexuality I’m more than comfortable with saying that one should never say never.

          And yet, if I was coming out it would have been early on and loud. I’m in no way going to judge anyone on their sexual preference, needs, or desires. I’m in no place to point fingers since there is very little that I’ve not taken part of. I’ve always compared myself to being the Block instead of going around it. I do have to say that times are certainly easier now with the internet. You do a Google search, you luck up some things and if you are still worse for wear you look up porn to give you a ballpark idea of what the hell is going on, although I’d prescribe more than a gain of salt with some of the stuff I’ve passed by on.

And yet, many have already explained that bravest ones of us who are willing to fling themselves outside of the barriers of the LIMIT usually add breathing room of all of us in the safety of the middle even if it cost a social sacrifice of the visionary fool. As much as I’ve been into I’m going to say that my ice cream flavor has always been vanilla and yet the topping are more than enough to have me explain things to most that in many ways are beyond embarrassing. One of the reasons I rather not be in a position of leadership or honor is that my tainted past alone is enough to have Fox news scream holy terrors and may even scare away the Westbro kooks. It’s pretty funny as I think of it now since I was such an innocent boy or at least I looked like it.  To say that the best way to prepare someone for the world that waits them with all its perversions and dalliances is to quarantine them is probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard and seen. I’ve always believe that inoculation of what is and what isn’t offered the best chances of survival. That and small doses with careful observation from someone who knows what the edge is.

How I wish I had that much. Then again I’ve come to realize that I’m the person who I would have wished to run into in an afternoon. So sad how we can save others and yet we damn ourselves in the process. Anyways, I’m stalling.

I’ve not only believe this, but I’m always one to back up what I say with practice. I’ve been in rooms with men and women questioning and asking what is, should be, must be, and what can be done. I’ve pulled men and women from heartbreak and nursed them back to the point where I am never needed and have pried myself away from those who would have me become their monkey wrench. I’m all for curing and never medicating. It’s a huge difference between healing and becoming dependent. I’ve not only offered advice and plans for those around me willing to ask, but my own children, offering insight to how the opposite sex behaves in public, behind closed doors, and what one can do to deal with each. I’ve given my son advice to not make relationships serious past the age of a woman since most young women are still embarking a self discovery phase almost force upon them by society that most men will not discover until in their mid forties. I’ve advised my daughter to find herself a good lesbian partner at least until she is past the age where men stop being worthless horn dogs while offering her an moment to discover what and who she is since most women face men who know nothing but what porn declares as a norm.

I believe in masturbation, honesty, and being open. I believe in the sanctity of a good relationship and the beauty of what love is or at least what it seems to be to many. I believe that people are all different and their innermost desires are usually often tainted with oddities of growing up and no matter how you may not understand what drives a person to arousal you can understand that arousal is universal. I also understand that some mannerisms are not only self destructive, but also dangerous in nature. Pedophilia may have been chic in Greece, yet was it understood that children are not able to understand the outcome of some choices given to them if at all. I understand that some acts are not only reprehensible, but pretty much scare the crap out of me. I am not going to judge someone on hooks being dangled midair, but I do understand that everyone is attempting to reach that mental place, that arousal that not only satisfy us as higher life forms, but also rejuvenates us once more. To deny this is simply destructive in the end as well as to take full abandonment to it.

Two side of a destructive coin.

The killing moon 
Will come too soon

I know I’m talking a lot. I’ve always feel I need to defend my points rather than to simply blurt anything out. I’ve been castigated enough for that error and so I must make my case before I feel safe enough to arrive at my point. It bothers me so much, reaching for reason and thought as my protective shield to keep me protected from what was and what may be again. This is how much it scares me as if to conjure up phantasms or the devil itself. I am trying so hard to continue this when I simply want to burry this again and not return to it until I am force once more to face it. And in doing so I might release something I’ve spent years trying to gain control over even though that the best way of doing so is simply not helping anymore. It is the monster under the bed. It’s the reason why I ended past lives and tread lightly in certain places. It’s the reason why I am known by so many names and why hearing any variations of them will cause me to run and cut my trail again.

That’s what I do not want to do again. I’m really happy where I am now and who I am, yet if I do not resolve this issue I will one day collide with it once more. To lose power over this would scare me more than death. If given a choice to walk bare and expose my physical shame rather than this I would do so without any falter. I’ve already have had some people “out” me and the kindness of those who knew me well have saved me for the moment, but not for the long run. It forces the larger battle between Will and Fate that I would die to win. I am not one who wants to be at the mercy of anyone and am more than willing to slice off the hand than the finger in question in order to save myself. And yet, how much are do I have left at this point. Chameleons can survive being removed from their surroundings, but rarely forced to endure a skinning for their freedom.

In starlit nights I saw you 
So cruelly you kissed me

I’m running again. I need to cut to the bone.

…..

I’ve learned to compartmentalize myself very well. I’ve learned that this is not only a good way to be willing to cut off the offending limb if need to, but it also prevents most who would attempt to. I’ve learned to separate myself through roles that the Old Man once taught me. I’m many people in one and in a time of crisis or when the mood sways I’m more than willing to change with it. I am Father, Mentor, Fool, Scholar, Hunter, and Philosopher to name a few today. I am Councilor, General, and Foot soldier. I am Child and Childe. I am Motivator, Menace, Thug and Victim. I switch role to best suffice what is needed and to offer in many ways a distant mind that is separated enough to see the moment at hand yet to understand the context to what it all means. I am someone who works best with that degree of separation that causes so many of us to falter when the time of action arrives. It’s the only way I am able to cut to the bone when it concerns others and why it’s difficult for me to get to the point now. And yet, there are roles that I do not often play now, but in much reflection I’ve come to realize that I can not play well. Roles that require me to do what I in many ways can not out of my own sense of sanity and wellbeing.

…..

Some time ago, someone I cared for greatly forced me to offer an ultimatum some time ago. To say that I loved her is not saying enough. To say that she still comes to mind in those moments where I gnash my teeth and curse the Heaven. She is someone who joins a long list of others who I in times of solitude often question and replay moments where I would relive in order to understand what happened and what changed and what was that element to force the change as much as a detective would relive the murder of another with enough passion of someone who either committed the act or had their life extinguished.

Fate 
Up against your will 
Through the thick and thin

I offered her a choice then. I always thought it was more than fair and it offered where more than what she could even want. I told her that she arrived at a crossroads that I had to place her in a category where I would need to deal with her. I’ve already told her what she meant to me and that I cared for her wellbeing more than my own. I told her that I loved her more than life itself and this is was the problem. I’ve told her that our interactions often bleed between comfort and need and that many a times she had blamed me for blurring the lines she also had red hands. I told her that if this was not resolved I would have to cut my ties to her completely, since functioning with her around have already placed me in difficult positions. I offered her a choice of unconditional love and love to which I was made to define.

I have unconditional love with everyone I care about. There is very little that I can find wrong with someone who I care for in this way, and yet the closest extent to any relation is that of sibling. I will support, care, question and defend anyone in this group until the blood ran dry from my veins. I understand that people make mistakes and that they need understanding and support even if you find them wrong in their actions. These are my closest circle, which I have to say is very limited in number. There are very few people I would go to the ends of the world for and they were it.

Love on the other had was not unconditional, yet I’ve always has the most minimum parameters I could ever have. I also love and care for these people yet I would not draw any blind eye. Their lives are precious to me and I always worked hard at making them happy the same with unconditional and yet, I do believe in commitment. I believe in monogamy, faithfulness, and thinking in them over myself. Sadly, I can say that all of this is difficult for me as cats jumping into cold water. I’ve never had difficulty with monogamy, even when tempted with something or someone greater than who I’ve committed myself with. It’s not in my nature. I do not break a bond. Bonds are life and I would give my life before letting my bond break as well as my word.

And yet, I have had the hardest time with faith. As defined it is the complete trust and confidence in someone or something, usually based in apprehension over proof. I understand that when in a relationship you basically continue on with everything as being best until one person decided they have had enough. The idea that someone can quit and walk away is a real fear to me since for one, it has always happened to me the majority of the time. I have a season where I’m irresistible and I have a moment where I’m not worth anyone’s time. I can recover from this with time and enough licking of my wounds, but the majority of time they want to come back, usually to be pardoned from their infidelity a desire to continue on. If I was going to be a stickler I would judge them in the parameters of Christ I would simply state that as they sinned in their hearts they sinned in their actions, meaning they thought about it so they already decided. And yet, I’m more compassionate that that. I understand people make mistakes and people want what ever that given them comfort and that feeling of safety and love. We’ll my price is simple. I would let go willingly if someone says they have thoughts and want to try something else. Fine, but to already have their move prepared so that I fall crumbled in a heap while they move into someone else’s arms is what hurts the most. That assumed and salting of any path of return has already been taken only to have them want to return when things are not as right.

Sorry, I never salt the path, but I damn sure make certain that the path ends at that salting. There is not coming back. At first I actually spent time to listen and to tear my own heart for the sake of sating my own curiosity, not only why people leave, but why do they come back. After a while it didn’t matter. The reasons for leaving are many and any that overlapped I’ve worked hard at taking that criticism to heart if only to improve what faults are of mine with enough time to heal. I do not bed hop. And yet, the reason on why they come back is always the same. So much that is hurts now to write it.

I was loving and caring. Made them the feel that they were the center of my universe and take interest in their wellbeing. Simply put, they love the fact that I gave them that unconditional love that made them better people overall and yet were surprised that with this ending I not only because withdrawn, but disappeared. What they wanted from me was to be a sibling and not a lover. That kind of stings. They some how believed that if they told me that they were improving their lives by removing me for whatever reason that I would simply give a smiling nod of approval. I remember one who explained how they found themselves and once they found themselves they wanted to share themselves with me now in which they were shocked with my question, if they fucked them. Not only was she shocked that I was not happy for her, but that I would even say such a thing to her. She honestly didn’t understand that she left me feeling unwanted and feeling worthless. She wanted to return that happy loving time and yet had no idea what was me loving her rather than her feeling of wholeness.

Nothing can ever get you to understand someone telling you that your love had made them so much better of a human being that they realize they didn’t want you to love them anymore. I can’t never understand if I live to 1000 that they some how wanted me to be happy for them. They never wanted me as a lover, but as a loving brother…..that they fucked time to time.

Yea…..yea…..just so fucked up.

See how I wish I was out of the closet? I don’t think this would be an issue. No, I’ve asked. It’s not. There are some heavy shit yes, but nothing as mind fuckingly bad as this kind of shit. Just a feeling of being disposable. You don’t thank your deodorant, toothpaste, toilet roll, or condom when you are done, do you? You just toss it in the trash and carry on. I’ve learned enough that I’m not only disposable, but that I have a couple good years AT BEST before I’m dropped without a second thought. I‘ve timed it. I’ve even timed how long it takes for someone to run back. I’ve covered my tracks behind me with enough feelers to know when they’re looking. How the fuck can I be disposable and yet valuable.

Your lips a magic world 
Your sky all hung with jewels 

And so I’ve withdrawn so much. I’ve made rules to ensure that there is a two degree of separation from me and any one I’ve come into contact. I’ve not only made it a chip on my shoulder, but made it part of the uniform. I’ve given up with looking human or even trying to seem attractive. I’ve walked away from blatant offers and quick sex, learning that anyone who make said offers have more issues that I want to deal with. I’ve carved a nice island for myself and I’m chained Prometheus down. If I can further change my attributes to be asexual I would have done so by now. I’ve given women the, “lets not fuck things up by having sex” talk before it was even in their minds. Sure that’s a bit…..sadistic, but hell I like them to think that I’m not interest in them rather than to be tossed aside when done. If there was a part of me I can remove or add to be fine with this I would have. And yet, I am simple person. See, vanilla. Vanilla all the way between the toppings.

Though I know it must be the killing time 
Unwillingly mine

And yet, this is no my issue. The issue is that I honestly deny my own sexuality. It takes a lot of effort, exercise, hobbies and drinking to do so, but it’s possible. And yet there are moments that I simply…..erupt for a lack of a better word, but still a funny one (ha…what would I be without humor…oh that’s right, dead). There are moments that I can not hold back and yes, I do get affectionate. Very affectionate. I’m going to hold back when and the symptoms since I know that many read and others plan. There are moments where I simply can not hold back and I have to woo. As if a fish finally reaches water I struggle and relish that I’m back in my element. And in those times I’ve to say I’ve ruined many a friendship. I’ve probably threw away relationships that would have lasted me today if I didn’t end up sleeping with them. I have my weak moments, I will admit this.

He will wait until 
You give yourself to him

Worse off is when certain people learn of my “locks” and realize that with the right “key” Prometheus is released. I’ve been in rooms with ex’s who slowly have made their way towards me and open these locks on purpose only to reduce me to what I fear the most: Weak, yielding, and submissive. My ex wife knew of 5. Most women find two and used them well to reduce me to a fool. It’s one thing to be in a trusting relationship with someone who you love and care for and they are able with a bit of pressure, a slight touch or a simple caress to reduce you to jelly. An ex? Hell and all kinds of chaos follows that. With this information I’ve been placed more than my share of compromising positions.

In starlit nights I saw you 
So cruelly you kissed me

So if we do our mental math we arrive at someone who works so damn hard to have control over his life to the point of removing all the x factors only to be in truth someone who in the touch of a hand to become what he fears the most. And in the end, I’ve ended up many times as a second grade above a vibrator. Any intelligence and reserve is gone as I slowly think events over the walk of shame. At what point does one regain dignity and a healthy ego when you are reduced to a toy to satisfy the hungers of others only to be tossed aside. Don’t ask me how whores feel or where do they go since I’ll break your heart and tear your soul telling you.

Under blue moon I saw you 
So soon you'll take me 
Up in your arms 
Too late to beg you or cancel it 
Though I know it must be the killing time 

          That Used feeling. That worthless, used feeling never really leaves you. Especially when you can associate it with a face and name. Huh……what else could I do but to compartmentalize, have frustrated sex when it happens and leave someone satisfied and happy knowing that one day they’ll just stop calling. And that is the risk as I see it. Seeing no solution to it but try to muster the “faith” and see if (when) it ends or simply compartmentalize and keep within the same cycle. As much as I want to find a simple answer or to understand how things are resolved I’m just here again.

Unwillingly mine

As hard as I am on myself, I know this is a big step. I’ve been trying to somehow get an idea of how big this was and figuring it out has not only helped me understand a few things about myself in the long run but it has made me question what I’m going to do about it. I still don’t know and chances are I’ll try to simply move on and figure it out slowly in time. As much as I would like to find a bow and top it off and give that stupid 80’s laugh that is popular now at the end of tv episodes. It’s going to take me some time to reevaluate what my worth is and to try to build up some confidence in order to even question a new move. I just know that things can not go on as they have. I’m tired of being a toy. I want to feel like I’m worth something. Not valuable, but not so easily thrown away. And as much as I like to think I’ve done enough by myself and would love to believe that I’m above the thoughts of others and how they see me I have to admit I’m not. You have to care a bit to simply ignore it all.

Ha ha…..imagine that. I’m not as hollow as some would say. And even now I can tell I haven’t hit the bull’s eye yet. Geesh…I’m a mess.

I still want a smoke.