soapboxdiner

A long road to ho

You know those times when you look back on where you've been in your life - comparing and summing up all the events, sidebars and tangents that cumulate into the person you've become? I've really been doing that a lot lately.

You know, personally, I think I am an all-around funny and contrary person. I look at all the pieces and none of them add up. This year has seen more questions posed of myself and my inherent worth. This year has tested my faith in myself more than any other time in my life. I have found out that I just don't know how to handle me very well, despite knowing myself exquisitely.

And though I have been fixated on where I am professionally, in a way trying to and trying not to define myself in those terms; I find myself now looking at the other aspects of my life. Pointing to them and saying, "This is where I get my intolerance/my humor/my XYZ. This is where I faltered. This is where I succeeded."

But getting to the point... almost all of it has stemmed from sex. I look at Steven now - 6 years old - and I think, "It is time for me to enter the adult with partner world. It is time to drop the past and all that entails and progress to the next stage of life."

They say that discussions held when horizontal are the truest and most honest. As much as I want to take exception to that, deep down I think it's true. Or at least the principle of the theory is true. The advice you can most often trust as unbiased comes from your partner - if you happen to be lucky enough to be in a healthy relationship. And I realized lately that of all the choices I have made that have all gone so terribly wrong have all been made against the advice of friends and family, and they have all been made alone.

Man. That's really big, you know? And it isn't a statement to the effect that I am incapable of rational thought, nor is it a statement that a man could be a better charge of my person. But being on someone's team wouldn't hurt at all.

Anyway - in the process of all this rather obvious revelation I have taken a look back at the time when I was actively dating, socializing, partying. I remember loving that life of clubbing four nights a week. I remember loving drinking until I could barely stand and getting sweaty with anonymous men on the dance floor. I have stories I could tell. And sometimes I wish I had those times back. I wish I could continue to live them in the present. I wish they'd never ended.

But then I remember getting drunk at Misty's - the club in the Red Lion lounge. Hooking up with a man and accepting his offer to take me home. Running out to the parking lot to tell my friends that I would not be joining them to the religious 2 a.m. trip to Denny's because I was going home with someone else. He pulled up in his Jag - yes, that was Jag, I was so impressed - but as I ran around the front of the car I slipped on the wet pavement and fell right in front of him.

I got in the car and gave him directions to my home - then noticing that my wallet with all the money I had in the world along with my house keys were missing. I heaved and cried and sobbed - generally made an even bigger ass of myself in front of the one night stand driving a Jag man. When the tears dried, we'd made it to my apartment. I got out of the car. The roommate wasn't home to let me in so I broke into her window and crawled into the apartment. But the night did not end there.

I stumbled to the front door to let the strange man in and proceeded to fuck his brains out. Then I told him in no uncertain terms to leave. I don't even remember what he looked like, or even as much as his name. But knowing me, he had to have been pretty hot. I didn't bother with fuglies back in the day.

And as much "fun" as that was, it sickens me now. I look back with all this guilt and hate. I wonder what the hell ever happened to the kid who made straight A's and won awards. What happened to the kid was going to do great things and change the world? Where did she go and why is the road backward so much longer than its reciprocal?

And there is but one of the many stems to where I became fucked up. The sad thing is, that wasn't the beginning or the end of all my many escapades. It's just that now I am finally seeing it, atoning for it, and saying, "God, I am really, really sorry for it."

9:33 pm - 11.14.02
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