Fear

Powerful thing, fear. Just the right amount of fear keeps us far enough from the edge of the cliff. But then again, a lack of fear allows us to jump. Hopefully with a parachute. Or deep water to plunge into as long as the cliff isn't too high. But too much fear and we never see what's beyond the edge.

Even now, after over two years have gone by, the interwebs strike fear within me. Will I say the wrong thing and piss off some troll? Will I say the right thing and piss off some other troll? Do I have anything to say? Is it intelligent? Provoking? Timely? Or just self-centered?

What if what I say hurts someone? What if I've been hurt but don't say anything because I don't want to hurt someone? Self-centered again? What if someone reads what I post and decides to tell me how stupid what I said is?

All these are valid in my mind. All of these can be distilled down to the fear of being criticized or worse: not being liked. A friend of mine recently asked if someone can be changed and initially I would have said yes. After thinking on it for a week or so, I would have to say no. I honestly don't think we change deep down inside. I do however believe we can change how we act or react to things and situations.

I stopped writing a few years ago because someone reached out to me here who knew me when I was a child. She's exactly the same age as I am -we share a birthday. One of my first memories is of her and I kissing as being under a tree in her backyard. We were about four at the time and I have no doubt we were madly in love. I mean how could it not be anything but love when you're four, but the way my memory works this may not have happened.

But hearing from her threw me into a tailspin. Someone from my childhood other than family remembered me and I couldn't have it. Or more accurately I couldn't handle it. You see, even though I talk from time to time about my childhood, I am rather careful about what I share and when. It's self preservation really. Too much of my teen years were spent hiding, being the invisible boy, shielding myself from physical and mental pain or abuse. Being the self-conscious kid I was the least little insult felt enormous so when the big guns were fired at me - faggot, queer, and worse - I retreated even further away from the world.

I read a lot in those years - which isn't a bad thing. But because of that I don't think I ever really learned how to deal with the real world. And yes, I'm quite aware of the number of years between then and now, but like I said earlier I don't think what makes each of us, us, ever really changes, we only react to those stimuli differently.

So Tina B., I apologize for not responding a few years ago. And if you want to, please leave me a private message here with your email, I'll respond. I'd like the opportunity to reconnect and find out if my memory is right about that kiss under the backyard tree.