See the video for my initial rambles. It is enlightening the subjects which bring up certain feelings that are so clear when watching a video back. There was a time I had difficulty watching a video of myself, even a short one. But I suppose in the method of self-reflections and completely within self-control, it feels less like an objective analysis and more like a subjective understanding. It helps to… hrm… see oneself from a third-person point-of-view, which can open doors to both self-empathy and realizations of mistakes that have been made. All good stuff. I really encourage folks to make their own videos, it is a very therapeutic experience. Odd and awkward at times, for sure, but positive.

Anyway, this soulbrother of mine, an aspect not mentioned in the video is the context of the final “No, I will not let you back in again,” you had proclaimed. Now, had it been the time before, the time before that maybe even, it may have been forgivable. But I came to you pleading for a simple delivery of some juice and easy-to-keep-down food. You see I was in the midst of some nasty food poisoning or some-such, and in the middle of complete isolation while housesitting for my ex, the singer, and his family while they were off on vacation. I could not drive more than a few yards before feeling the need to vomit. I reached out to the soulbrother, first, for help. I apologized for being brash and being the bitch I can be and tried to smooth things over and then earnestly asked for your help because I couldn’t get far enough to get any edible food.

Yes, your response to this request, after years of albeit chaotic friendship of an extremely intimate nature, combined with the situation of me being really sick and unable to go anywhere and too broke to do delivery, was to say “No, I’m done forever, good-bye.” It was a shitty situation. A shitty time. And I understand you were upset with me. But my goodness, all you had to do was drop a grocery bag at my door if you couldn’t bare to deal with me. Instead you shut your door on a person in legitimate need of assistance. That was cruel. Absolutely uncalled for. How dare you.

In addition, can we deal with your collusion to wreck my pending marriage? I mean, yes, certainly in hindsight, I see that you were right in that he was wrong for me; however, the flirtation, the comments, the overbragging about sexual rendezvous, and the enablement of my affair with a mutual friend of ours… Well… Those things are even harder to forgive. I was really trying to be what my fiance deserved, but simultaneously, he was not being the man he proclaimed himself to be when we agreed to the whole thing, so I was torn. And having you there opening up my spiritual chakras and enabling this little excuse I had built to be intimate with another man because you wanted us to be intimate. I understand it, but you must have seen the falsity. Really now.

In addition, the magician douchebag comes romping in, and you totally know it’s going on. You do. I tell you it is. I did. And then, you show up to a dinner with my fiance, with the magician! For reals! You did that! I mean, the nerve, really. I focused most of my energy on the jackass in the room, but you, you were the orchestrator of that moment of … perhaps… deserved karma. All the same, why not just talk to me? No no, couldn’t do that, you were too afraid you might let some feelings out. Some real ones.

Anyway, I don’t mean to sound bitter. I think perhaps I always hold a high expectation of this soulbrother which, all too often, is not fair or possible to stand up to. I am overzealous in my excitement and drive to see this man explode out into the world with the beauty I can feel inside him. It is an innocent and almost playful drive, but all too quickly can the cheerful support turn into the bitter archenemy, and that is a dynamic I struggle with. I do. I admit it, I get so excited over people, I see the good in them, the raw possibility and amazing uniqueness that is them, and I feel this drive to push and nudge and poke and surprise and whatever it takes to spark something genuine out of them. It doesn’t happen with most people, but if I find you interesting, I will want to know more. It is what I do.

But I’ve learned to temper my zealousness quite a bit since then. I am a much better listener, less of a coach. I just want to connect these days, it’s up to other people to motivate themselves. If I inadvertently do motivate someone by being myself or providing a bit of relevant data for their quest, then hurray, I’m a person in-line with a long-term ideal of mine, but it is ultimately up to each and every individual person to find that drive within themselves. I am NOBODY’s savior. God knows, I tried to be enough times to know I just shouldn’t. It’s silly. I try to help. That’s the best I can do.

I suppose this entire relationship, with the soulbrother, was truly a fantastic example of how repressed feelings and issues can eat away at your relationships and your life in general. I mean here I was with a fiance in our own apartment with two cats, both working, both pretty successful, both with our own friends, our own hobbies, and some mutual ones too! We were just the package. But then, lo and behold, there he is spending entire weekends with his family who speak Spanish and think their son is a late-bloomer and will get a fine wife someday. A good Christian boy. Little do they know their son’s roommate is his fiance and multiple-time sodomy offender and occasional dirty little slut. Then I’m at home, yes? Sitting there. Jack-all to do with myself.

I spend most of my time with the soulbrother. But I have this wall up, I had decided not to pursue romance with him, so I still have this hole, this validation I cannot find. So then the magician comes along and his pure, carnal, stupid, sexy, asshole attitude was strangely refreshing and simple. He wanted sex. That’s it. How easy. How smooth. And he did it with a charming smile and an occasional trick. A considerate jackass with a trick up his sleeve. Oh the magician. But ultimately, I had no respect for him. He was a horrid personality¬†made up of a series of masks with such a lost and delusional little boy buried beneath there that, my goodness, I have serious doubts he will ever get thru enough masks to see himself for who he really is and could be. Anyway, even the jackass I had high-expectations about, for goodness sakes.

So I was repressing my needs from my fiance in the hopes he was correct the issue without further prompting (there had been prompts). I was also repressing my deeper feelings for the soulbrother and how, perhaps, at the time, having an affair with him may have been a far better option than what was to come, maybe, who knows? But I was repressing feelings. Then I was repressing rage, a collective rage and carnal lust which I shared for both my fiance and my soulbrother if I’m honest, which I unleashed upon the willing and eager magician. Am I proud of ANY of this? No. No I am not. But I can understand why I went down these roads now.

Combine that with being probably as unstable as I have ever been mentally… I mean, really, I was entertaining some truly bizarre notions related to conspiracy theories and nutritional myths which I find difficult to even consider now. I was oddly flippant about my career, my education, and had no idea where I fit in the world. I just didn’t know. And everything around me felt like an inevitable disappointment. I mean truly, I was not an easy man to deal with back then. I empathize with others for their tolerance of me in my weaker states. At the same time, sometimes they added to the fire, and that isn’t cool. But no worries, I bounced back when I encountered schizophrenia in action! Oh yes! Yes I did.

Harsh lessons. We all have to learn them somehow. At least if we want to grow.

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