things were bad enough for me back in late spring, but held up and examined against what i've been thru the previous 3 or 4 years (or further if one was to truly explore and delve deeper), i guess they weren't so bad and i was at least coming to terms with the ramifications of what i have done (or rather, haven't done) with my life.
and then came the fall.
those close to me, know that my Father fell seriously ill whilst visiting family and friends in Ireland back in june. he was hospitalized with acute pnuemonia, and they were not sure he would last the weekend (he had 21% of one lung working at his worst point). my Father has temrinal lung cancer, asbestosis, and on top of these three things, he had a case of pleurisy thrown into the mix for good measure to contend with.
yet somehow, i knew this was all coming. like this great dark cloud of inevitability that shadowed me wherever i went. i can distinctly remember him telling me in the car a month or so before about how they (Ma and Da) had decided to arrange a trip over. i could tell he was excited, and yet i knew somehow in my mind even on that day, that there was something about it that just didn't bode well.
way back in january, a Top had contacted me from Germany, and we began comms in earnest once we found we had a number of things in common and similar outlooks and views on BDSM. by may we had begun organizing our first meet to take place in june. as the date drew closer, and my excitement mounted, things finally seemed to be slotting into place after what has been 3 or 4 years of self-examination and soul-destroying solitude after my previous Owner and i parted ways amicably - although i think the true 'tipping point' or turning point, was being hospitalized with severe internal bleeding that i almost died from. they never found a cause, it was never explained or determined what had happened. yet i spent a month in solitary and was signed off work for six post-release. my body crashed, and a course of steroids rearranged what was left into something i no longer recognised. i'm still not happy with my body, but at least it resembles something close to average now. i digress.
not 20 minutes after we had ended our chat, i received a phone call telling me of what was transpiring in Ireland, and that i had 'better get here soon as you can'. i then had the unenviable job of telling this Top that i would be unable to make our meeting. not great. i should point out by the way that by this point, He had become more than just a 'Top', He knew me damned well and what made me tick. i had no secrets from Him, and i think forging our bond upon honesty no-matter-what, helped in that regard. it also paid off too when all this had blown over and i returned to England one month later, that He was still interested, concerned and supportive where 99.9% of other Tops would have written me off as a flake and a time-waster (let's face it, it would have been so easy to do so considering, how many subs cry-off a meet at the last moment? i knew it didn't look good).
there has been a considerable amount of readjustment for us all now here - my father is on constant oxygen 24-7, and the irony is that he has become the prisoner, and i haven't as he is virtually tied to the machine that feeds him the air he needs. oh, how i hate the sound of that fucking oxygen cable hitting and dragging across the wood floor now.
long story short, this leads me to here, to today, the here and now.
nearly a month ago MASTER brought up the visit once again. i had 7 or 8 days left of vacation time to take off from work. i procrastinated for nearly 2 of those weeks, because i had noticed myself that post-Ireland although i felt the same about Him, i did not feel as enthused and invigorated as i did prior to that all happening. i now felt unsure, painfully lacking in confidence, and totally unfocused. it's not that i didn't want to go - i did (and i do), it just didn't seem to be 'the right time' anymore, like the planets that were all perfectly aligned were now totally out of whack. not only that, but i now felt the pressure of expectation - not from Him, but from myself to step up to the plate and put my money where my mouth is. how long was this guy really going to wait? there was a line, and i couldn't see it, yet i knew it was there. if i asked Him if He would mind leaving it until early next year would that be enough to make Him cut His losses and bolt?
i felt so contradicted, tied up in knots and i hated myself for how i was thinking, and what i'd become - Gods, 4 years back i was this confident, respectful, known (whatever that means) player - now i can't even recognise myself. i crave the love, affection and tlc of my peers, yet only the few who take the time to get to know me truly grasp what is going on with me and how it is affecting me. and as i sit here writing this, i feel even more pathetic and unworthy as all i can see in the preceeding sentances are 'me' 'me' 'me' 'me' - but why should i feel guilty or angst-ridden about that? this is what i am struggling with i think - i have concentrated on others for so long in my life that it's been to my detriment and i've lost....me. maybe this MASTER will be a good thing for me and we'll click and it'll all fall into place and He'll be my guide and put me back on the right path again by being that firm and guiding prescence i need in my life. then again, maybe not. this is why i have literally CLUNG so desperately to anyone who gives me the time of day within the BDSM world now...because it's ALL i HAVE NOW. i really don't think people get or understand that. thank Gods for people like Chris Yosef, Derek DaSilva etc. if it hadn't been for them these past few months, the dusty remanants of what remain of (what i feel) are my true self, would have long blown away into the ether. there is a soul here in danger of being lost, and nobody can see it except me, and how the hell do you bring that to peoples attention without seeming like a complete attention whore? it's all seems so truly fucked-up.
eventually, after chasing my tail 'round and 'round in circles for the longest time, i came to the conclusion that no matter which way i slice and dice it, there will NEVER be another opportune time. i will always make excuses for both myself, and especially for others - the one inparticular that broke the proverbial camels back being: 'yeah, but when Da dies, Ma is going to need me'. what then? do i hang around another Gods-knows how many years waiting for her to shuffle off this mortal coil so i can finally start 'living'? fuck, i don't even know what the word means anymore. because this just isn't it. and if it is, it's a joke. a very cruel and twisted joke. the love for ones family can be quite cruel in how it can twist a knife deep into your heart at times.
october 7th - i fly out to Mannheim.
october 13 - i fly home.
inbetween those dates will be some serious, real-time training. well, i say 'some' - i actually mean a lot. wish me luck, i'm going to need it. this could either be one of the bravest and best desicions i've ever made, or one of the downright 'stupidist'. because this dear reader, is what is more commonly referred to as 'make or break'. my last dance at the last chance saloon. i just don't have the energy to cling on to this dream anymore.
pathetic.
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