The last few days have been incredibly emotional for me. A friend I used to work with many years ago found me as a result of my writing.
My first thought was, what are you doing looking for me. It’s been 20 years or more. We worked in mental health together.
I felt he belonged there instead of working there. Lol. I used to joke and tell him this. There was something about him that was wrong because, he tried so hard to be perfect.
Dressed so neat and his car shined like a diamond. He had a wife that was very nice but humble to him. He was in charge of things. But, there was just something about it I didn’t like.
I would tell him if I am ever alone with your wife, I will tell her she deserves better than your cheating ass. Anyway, as it turns out we became friends.
I never said anything to his wife but,could not stay in the friendship because of it. Knowing what he was doing to her behind her back.
He crossed the line when, he tried to hit on me. I lost respect for him and our friendship. There are not many people who work in mental health, who can find others outside the profession that can relate to our experiences.
I was disappointed about it. Otherwise he was a funny, smart guy who had whit about him. A regular smart ass like myself. Anyway, years passed like I said before.
I wasn’t that upset we lost touch. When he surfaced he told me. “I read your book The Trees Outside recently. I wanted to tell you, I loved it.”
I said, “Great, thanks.” He went on to tell me he was still with his wife. He was still cheating on her like before. I thought, okay I am really not interested in hearing this same old story.
I reminded him that this was the reason I distanced myself, in case he forgot. I don’t want to hear it now. “I can’t believe your wife is still putting up with you.” Wtf is wrong with the both of you, I thought as I said that.
I went on to say, why don’t you get help or are you happy. Knowing he wasn’t and was trying to escape from himself. Or leave her since she won’t go, do her a favor then whore around all you want.
You don’t respect her anyway, it is possible to love someone and not respect them. After they put up with your crap knowing, it’s wrong.
No matter what her mouth says to you, about it. If she stays, with you that is saying I will take this from you. She was illegal in this country, he told me. At that moment, I liked him even less.
A real scumbag, I thought. I yelled “Why did you call, to upset me with the fact you haven’t changed.” He said something, I will never for get as long as I live. “No, I wanted to tell you now I can.”
I got it instantly, made perfect sense for the first time in all these years. “Oh, you were molested as a kid by a woman.”
“Yes.” He started to cry, and suddenly the monster became the vulnerable child he never wanted to be again. He mistreated women to cover up his pain. Punishing himself and everyone around him in an effort to feel better about what happened to him.
“This is awkward,” we laughed. I thanked him, for finding me and telling me about it. He has done as much for me as he says, my book did for him.
I can’t help but feel that was God, working through him. I needed something then, to keep me motivated to keep making books, remind of why I started. Because, I was just about ready to throw in the towel. Sick of it.
I have been evaluating, is it worth it to me anymore. Feeling guilty for even having the thoughts about it. Helping others is what I want to do, not a quitter. But, there is a price to pay for pursuing a purpose.
I never saw the downside, coming.
My friends and family are different to me. I sacrifed everything to do it. I don’t mind the sacrifice but, when things happen out of my control; I am not responsible for doing. I am devastated by it.
I have tried so hard to make things work out. I expect them to do just that by whatever means, necessary. Omg you don’t know. I have lived and slept in places, I don’t want to be for a long time just to invest in my books.
I can’t be the only one. I know this, but I am the one that matters now. My resources are spent. I am having to sublease my apt to make ends meet. I am going back to Europe.
I want to be there.
I don’t want to make decisions for awhile. Not major ones anyway, I am fragile now. I don’t want anymore disappointments in the near future. I don’t have the same frame of mind I used to have. I don’t want to lead a team, I want a no Brainer.
My sequel will be a series of short stories like The Trees Outside, three I think. Because, the stories are so poignant individually. Then, I am taking a break from the Internet. Go waitress somewhere, before heading back to Spain.
A simple life is in order for me afterwards. I am already drained. I do my best.