Off the Map: the b-side of the story
Now for the harsh cruel slap of reality version of the prior post:
I'll strip off the romantized gothic bullshit and the fantasy, and I'll tell the sad, evil, and ugly truth beneath all the delerious scenarios we've created.
I met someone. Someone who felt (feels?) so close to me, understands so much of me. I recognize him. He recognizes me. We found each other out of a sea of people. We were looking for a familiar. We are both fucked up, yet strong in our own ways. We are both survivors. We are both victims of child sexual abuse. We've had unspeakable things done to us. We have become unspeakable people deep down inside. We need things other people don't need. Things that are wrong, things that are perverse, that hurt, that break every taboo, that go to a realm beyond a place most people could even conjure in their mind.
There is a difference between he and I though: he feels no guilt. He has gone to a place where there is no such thing as sexual immorality really. In that regard he's ammoral. Probably a sociopath, or on some borderline thereof. I don't know if it's all his fault. The things he has been through would turn a lesser man insane. He holds down a decent job, has goals for the future, and is going back to school. He still has so much love in his heart, is so tender, and caring. He loves cats. He loves making me laugh. He wants to be with me. We've talked about getting married, about having children, becoming a family. The words forever have been used. The "I love you's" have been said, and meant, on both of our parts. But he scares me so deeply. He would lead me to do all the things that I don't let myself do. I keep my demons on a short leash. He lets his run wild.
He's Catholic. He goes to Mass once in a while. Volunteers at the old age home. He reads his Bible. Maybe he prays sometimes. He told me he hasn't gone to confession in a long time because he's not sorry for what he's done. He says he will go one day again. He seems to think that being absolved from a man called Father will clean his slate. so he can say his hail Mary's or do his acts of contrition, and then go do more of the same. I can't do that. My God is in my heart. I am always conscious of my sin. No one can take it from me but The One who made me.
He says he wants to free me. He believes I will free him. But the freedom he offers me would most likely make me nothing more than a dog returning to my own vomit. I can't free him, because he doesn't want freedom, he wants debasement. He wants to be pulled further down and succumb to the abyss. He thinks this will be our freedom. That we will become a couple that can do anything we want, indulge any fantasy, make anything happen that we want, no matter how perverse, and that we can call it Love. We will use other people as props to fullfill us, and then discard them as if they were just scenery in our play; well, they would be. Men, women, or male dogs -- it's all the same to him. He feels no shame. He has no limitations. He's the unbridled Id. He is a monster, created by the 19 year old babysitter who used him at age 5, and the next one, the suburban wife and mother with the dog who warped him even more at age 12. He's turned his damage into an orientation to survive; better to be turned on by all the abuse you've suffered than to mourn it, than to feel the weight of its tragedy shadow you through days and nights, and so he's let it warp him, he turns it into fantasy fodder, and he survives. But he is Not Free.
And what about me? I know that I still have a chance. I still feel guilt and shame. I still believe that there are things that are fundementally wrong. I believe in Good & Evil. I believe in answering to my God outside of any church, or any religious framework. I know what is right in my heart of hearts. I know that I can never ever be with this person. I know that my love is not enough to save him. I know that he will drag me down more than I will be able to pull him up. I know that he will lead me into unspeakable darkness because he is my shadow side. He is the side of myself that I repress, supress, beat into submission, pray to be delivered from. He's the devil in the flesh, and I've been an angel falling...
I must stop here, before I fall any further.
I'll strip off the romantized gothic bullshit and the fantasy, and I'll tell the sad, evil, and ugly truth beneath all the delerious scenarios we've created.
I met someone. Someone who felt (feels?) so close to me, understands so much of me. I recognize him. He recognizes me. We found each other out of a sea of people. We were looking for a familiar. We are both fucked up, yet strong in our own ways. We are both survivors. We are both victims of child sexual abuse. We've had unspeakable things done to us. We have become unspeakable people deep down inside. We need things other people don't need. Things that are wrong, things that are perverse, that hurt, that break every taboo, that go to a realm beyond a place most people could even conjure in their mind.
There is a difference between he and I though: he feels no guilt. He has gone to a place where there is no such thing as sexual immorality really. In that regard he's ammoral. Probably a sociopath, or on some borderline thereof. I don't know if it's all his fault. The things he has been through would turn a lesser man insane. He holds down a decent job, has goals for the future, and is going back to school. He still has so much love in his heart, is so tender, and caring. He loves cats. He loves making me laugh. He wants to be with me. We've talked about getting married, about having children, becoming a family. The words forever have been used. The "I love you's" have been said, and meant, on both of our parts. But he scares me so deeply. He would lead me to do all the things that I don't let myself do. I keep my demons on a short leash. He lets his run wild.
He's Catholic. He goes to Mass once in a while. Volunteers at the old age home. He reads his Bible. Maybe he prays sometimes. He told me he hasn't gone to confession in a long time because he's not sorry for what he's done. He says he will go one day again. He seems to think that being absolved from a man called Father will clean his slate. so he can say his hail Mary's or do his acts of contrition, and then go do more of the same. I can't do that. My God is in my heart. I am always conscious of my sin. No one can take it from me but The One who made me.
He says he wants to free me. He believes I will free him. But the freedom he offers me would most likely make me nothing more than a dog returning to my own vomit. I can't free him, because he doesn't want freedom, he wants debasement. He wants to be pulled further down and succumb to the abyss. He thinks this will be our freedom. That we will become a couple that can do anything we want, indulge any fantasy, make anything happen that we want, no matter how perverse, and that we can call it Love. We will use other people as props to fullfill us, and then discard them as if they were just scenery in our play; well, they would be. Men, women, or male dogs -- it's all the same to him. He feels no shame. He has no limitations. He's the unbridled Id. He is a monster, created by the 19 year old babysitter who used him at age 5, and the next one, the suburban wife and mother with the dog who warped him even more at age 12. He's turned his damage into an orientation to survive; better to be turned on by all the abuse you've suffered than to mourn it, than to feel the weight of its tragedy shadow you through days and nights, and so he's let it warp him, he turns it into fantasy fodder, and he survives. But he is Not Free.
And what about me? I know that I still have a chance. I still feel guilt and shame. I still believe that there are things that are fundementally wrong. I believe in Good & Evil. I believe in answering to my God outside of any church, or any religious framework. I know what is right in my heart of hearts. I know that I can never ever be with this person. I know that my love is not enough to save him. I know that he will drag me down more than I will be able to pull him up. I know that he will lead me into unspeakable darkness because he is my shadow side. He is the side of myself that I repress, supress, beat into submission, pray to be delivered from. He's the devil in the flesh, and I've been an angel falling...
I must stop here, before I fall any further.
posted by scribe at 10/23/2005
<< Home