I tried to sleep last night and instead my eyes felt like they were being held open with some sort of Clockwork Orange kind of contraption. I am exhausted. Somehow I'm still awake. But I can't think about anything else. I may as well not even be at work today. It's quite impossible to concentrate on anything else.
I came out, officially, to one of my best friends last night. We had lived together as roommates in college. He had already known these thoughts had been swirling around in the ether, but was never certain where or how I was drifting through them at any given time. He's the easiest person to confide in and the most brutally honest. He was my first major crush. He was my best man at my wedding. The perfect balance of realistic empathy, bitter sarcasm, with the resolve of a humble sage. I miss him. But I love him now as my brother and we hashed it it like brothers do.
I am a control freak. This, I have always known. Yesterday's events and discussions cemented that firmly to the forefront of my vision. I am a narcissist. I waste time practicing my lines to sound the right way. How deplorable. How trite. I am not a man. I'm a whimpering, little boy in the guise of some aging vessel. I never grew up. I never wanted to.
For all my high ideals I desire to strive for, these things in my life nullify them. It is a fairy tale concocted by a shiftless dreamer like myself to actually want to live completely in the service of others. This is all that I want. But isn't that a contradiction in itself? Again with what I want. Where do I draw the line between emotion and logic? The word "I" appears way too much in this post already.
I can't disclose the finite details of my sordid living station here. I don't expect you to qualify what I'm doing simply based on what I write. I must emphasize that I exist this way because of the mounting circumstances that keep adding to the pressure to remain hidden. I am sorry that it seems so incredibly deceptive. I only ever meant for this to be an outlet of my thoughts, so I could concentrate on the basic necessities of food, shelter and the daily grind. I've always believed in sacrifice and honesty and I haven't been able to get the formula to make the two mix.
I've said before I am an instigator. My foolhardy grand designs rarely work out as planned. My responsibility now lies not only in rectifying the disservice I have done to my wife, but I can't justify dropping the bomb without some kind forward thinking about recovery in it's wake. Give me all the dissertations on feminism you'd like. I have full confidence that she would would go and live her days as the independent woman she is. That spirit is what has kept us together for so long. It does come down to survival. In order to simply function, to breathe and keep our kids safe and happy. If it wasn't that way, I'd be out in heartbeat.
I did not want to admit that I was gay when I entered into my agreement of marraige. I thought it was wrong. I thought I could make it go away. I thought I was superman. I had youth and vitality on my side which has now become a deflated subversion of it's former self. Make no mistake, I am not ashamed that I am gay now. I am extremely frightened, plain and simple. But I will not pull a Dubya and enter into battle without an exit strategy. Sorry. Chalk it up to my growing list of selfish priorities.
I probably won't post for a few days. Life is about to get much more complicated than I ever imagined it would. Maybe after some sleep...I can't think anymore.