“I can’t match your intensity right now and I don’t think I can ever match it.”
This is not a surprise.
"I've been wondering about my low sex drive. You see, the things we do turns me on to the point that I just want to fuck, and you happen to be the only cock available.”
Again, not a surprise.
“You have to be in control all the time, and I do not like being controlled. You don’t have to give up control, just share it.”
Not a surprise either.
“You were right. As I got older, I just… changed. I will always love you, but that is not enough.”
Heartbreaking, but nothing really surprises me anymore.
Recently, I have begun to really take a look back at the experiences that I have had in my life, and I sometimes wonder at the choices that have brought me to this point. Do I regret any of them? Do I wish that I had made different choices in the direction my life was taking? If I was given the chance to go back and do some of them over again, would I do so? And then, even if took that chance, how would I change those decisions, and if I did, would it make my life any better?
These questions are pointless, you see. As much as we all would like to go back and make different choices in life, the reality is that we simply cannot, we must move forward with who we are as a product of those decisions, and hope that we can make better ones as we proceed forward with our lives. But still, we will look back and wonder.
I can safely say that the vast majority of the choices that I have made in my life were ones that I would not change, even if given the chance. The choice to pursue art instead of computer science while in college, while it certainly has not made me any real money, has given me the opportunity to do some amazing things. I think that if I had not taken that route, I very much doubt that I would be in the position that I am in now. I would not be the photographer I am, and I certainly would not have had the opportunities to work with and take photos of some of the best people I have ever met.
Choosing to stay in Gainesville instead of getting out each time the opportunity presented itself certainly proved advantageous in some interesting ways. It forced me to work harder at some things, and be more grateful for others. It played a huge role in who I am as a person.
And really, I think that that is the rub. Throughout my life, I have made choices based on who and what I am as a person. Even when I chose a path that was counter to who I believed myself to be, I believe that I made those choices with the confidence that what I was giving up was worth what I would ultimately be receiving in the long run. For the most part, that has been true. Yes, there have been some choices in my life that were made in such a manner and proved to be ultimately unsatisfactory, but such is the way of life.
But that is not entirely true. While I do think that a lot of my choices have been primarily made by listening to who I am, some of the biggest ones were made by listening not to who I am, but who I want. I have sacrificed huge swathes of my life, in vain attempts at happiness. After a while, I made those choices in an attempt to find peace. For the most part, I think that I have achieved a measure of peace, but at a tremendous and nearly incalculable cost.
I am a sociopath. This has moulded me in ways that I cannot even begin to describe. It has been a huge factor in just about every facet of my life, and the impact it has had on my relationships has been devastating. I am distant to even my closest of friends, no matter what I actually want. I am terrible at communicating with people, I struggle to maintain the focus necessary to remain in contact with people unless they are in my immediate sphere. In person, I am very communicative, I freely speak on even intimate subjects and I can maintain that contact easily. But if I have to maintain that contact via telephone/email/text/whatever, I find myself drifting further and further away from them quite easily. I do not want to, but it is very hard to remember that there is someone out there, waiting for me to just… talk to them.
But this is not always the case. There have been a tiny handful of people that I connect with on a level that I cannot easily describe. I call it “The Threshold.” Something happens after a while, and something inside of me just clicks into place, and suddenly I am deeply connected with someone to the point that I become shamefully dependent upon them. I develop feelings, and I finally begin to feel alive. These are the times that I cherish the most, where I can come out of my shell and just be. I find an immense amount of peace, if not actual happiness. My rational mind tells me that this is unhealthy, that I put too much weight upon the people that I attach to. My lizard mind agrees, but it screams at me that everything will fail because I burn them out, I use them up, that ultimately, I AM ALWAYS AT FAULT. I am the broken human, and everything around me breaks because of that deep and powerful truth.
Maybe I am just innately selfish to the point where it is dangerous, but I cannot just accept that it is innately unhealthy. I tell myself that I just have to find the right balance, the right amount of energy to draw from someone without burdening them too much, to be willing to accept a duller existence in order to prolong the experience. I try to be optimistic, but in the end, my mind reverts to the safety net of “it will always end, and you will have to rebuild yet again.”
So I see this, and I try to be everything for the people that give me everything. I guide, I help, I stand by them, I support them, I give them everything I can possibly give. I sacrifice for them. I devote my entire life to them, because I know that I am slowly killing them. But that is not the only reason. As I get more and more attached to them, I find that I WANT to do this, it is no longer an obligation, no longer something I do to try and even the scales. It is a duty that I take seriously, and I begin to enjoy being all of these things. I look back over my life and I see that I always have, that even before my realization that I start these things as a way to somehow pay for the essential thing I am taking from them, I was always like this. I am a Daddy. I have always been a Daddy.
I may be a sociopath. I may be broken. But I am also Daddy, and I deserve happiness too.
