Sliced Trees and Dead Words

27 - Waiting around for her to open her eyes and see what she really wants.

- DALEN -

When Luna bought her house, I was so proud. So damn proud.

It was obviously not something I had ever known the feeling of myself, being voluntarily homeless for half my life. But I was so excited for her. And when she invited me to her housewarming, it filled me both with complete joy and sadness to see her in her own home, and it took me a while to figure out where all that came from.

Responsibility wasn't something I'd ever wanted. I'd gone from being a carefree child, to being a victim of abuse, to being a homeless junkie, and finally to being a nomadic bricky with a questionable psyche and major alcoholic tendencies.

Seeing Luna liberated and independent in her own space overflowing with her own Luna-ish style, and entertaining her closest friends and family in typical Italian, overindulgent fashion, was one of the most normal things I've ever witnessed. She'd created an environment which perfectly reflected who she was, with eclectic hidden features that I'm not even sure she was aware of. Like how she painted the biggest wall in the living area a pistachio green, because it's her favourite flavour gelato. Or how her thrift store 70s brown glassware were exactly the same kind as the ones her parents had, as was the ugly paisley rug in her living room.

Luna welcomed adult independence and was excited by it, whereas I only accepted it by default and necessity. Luna needed to be on her own because she was already a complete person, unlike me. She loved her family, including her twin sister Siella who was so different to Luna you'd actually question their genetic claim to a split embryo; but she needed the space to really establish who she was and what she was doing. And when she was finally out on her own, after working so hard to build her own successful business and save for a house deposit, Luna flourished more than ever.

The obligations of mortgages, electricity bills and internet plans kept her motivated, whereas I found it physically and emotionally exhausting. Even accepting a new job often zapped me of so much energy I would always consider calling back immediately and just telling them I'd had a serious accident and wouldn't be able to work indefinitely.

The very thought of settling in one place terrified me because the last time I was settled in the same location was way back when I was being used to satisfy a perverted old man's depraved sexual desires. I want to think I've grown significantly as a person, just like I've watched Luna do over the years, to a point where I wouldn't ever find myself in that situation again. But I also know all that shit messed me up enough that my flight/fight response has majorly short-circuited and is now permanently stuck on freeze, where I'm so completely dissociated from life and my surroundings that I might actually just allow it to happen all over again without even being conscious of it in the moment. I guess that's the danger you always face when you're recovering from childhood sexual trauma . . . or trying to at least.

My responsibility aversion aside, independence is actually something I've been a little more willing to embrace over the years. And when you've been on your own and self-reliant since you were just a teenager, it kind of comes with the territory.

But my independence seemed so different to Luna's. Luna wanted it, worked hard for it and saw it's value. I was only ever doing it because it was the only way I knew how to live. Physically and oftentimes emotionally separated from everyone and just being on my own.

So often that's all I thought I deserved. To be alone.

Who would want me?

Who would love me?

Who would look past the brokenness and just see the man?

Who could be bothered dealing with all the drama that comes with dating a fuck up like me?

The irrational mood swings. The drug and alcohol dependence. The major attachment issues. The complete lack of trust in people. The instability. The constant anxiety.

From the outside, you might not notice the crippling self-loathing and constant self-doubt underneath all the sex I've had in my lifetime. The sex, not the assaults. The many negative outcomes of those are well documented and easily observable. But I have also willingly slept with my fair share of people over the years. Probably more than is fair, actually. Men exploring their sexuality, or just looking for a good time. Women needing a physical release, or the thrill of fucking a stranger. Those who see the trainwreck and think they can get me back on the right track if they show me enough positive attention.

But, you see, it's not anywhere near as simple as that. You can't just take one small dose of good and eliminate many years of very complicated bad. Not that they didn't try, nor did I not hope it would someday be my miracle cure.

So, I persisted in my isolated independence, with the addition of occasional sexual intimacy. Relinquishing my physical body to the act of sex became easy. When it's manipulated and taken advantage of so young, you tend not to think of it as anything more than a physical cage containing what's left of your fragile spirit. The essence that is the real you underneath the superficial physical layers.

And none of them ever came close to receiving that part of me. The innermost Dalen. That's the part I'm certain no one would ever be able to handle. Hell, I can barely handle me on a daily basis.

Luna and I are similar in that respect, I suppose. She doesn't allow many people to get close enough to even touch the surface of the vibrant force of goodness that is her soul. I think I've been fortunate enough to poke at it a few times, but I've never seen her let anyone in completely.

I don't know if it's that she doesn't trust them, per se. It's more that she doesn't trust herself.

She likes to be in control, and the idea of opening her heart to someone in that deep, life-altering love kind of way would mean that grip on her vital life organ was a little less hers than before.

Her pathetic boyfriends in the past never stood a chance, standing out the front of the chained and padlocked gates that blocked the slight opening of Luna's heart. They didn't even get close.

I always knew it. Luna always knew it. But she persisted all the same in trying to convince herself otherwise.

Maybe she felt some kind of responsibility to her family to play the dutiful Italian daughter searching for a stable life mate. Her old man harped on enough about her settling down and starting a family. I guess that's the expectation he grew up with, so expected the same of his own daughters.

But Luna is as independent as she is a responsible, well-functioning adult woman. There's no telling her what to do.

There's just a lot of waiting around for her to open her eyes and see what she really wants.

I obviously wanted to be the only one she saw when those big, green eyes opened, but I also always knew deep down that that wasn't going to be our shared outcome.

They'll be focussed elsewhere, exactly where they need to be and precisely when they need to be looking there. On someone who will celebrate her independent achievements and share in the responsibilities she embraces in her every day adult life.