今日吃瓜

When I came out, it was a momentous affair with incredible discomfort and an obscene level of bewilderment.聽My ex (and only) boyfriend to date remembers fondly pictures from the early days and how I behaved, demurely and sweetly behind plastic sunglasses.聽 He thought it was magic to have known me then.

I think about the person I see in the pictures.聽 He has fluffy brown hair, very little grey at that point.聽 Pointed jowls from being anxious, attempting vegetarian and completing a triathlon 鈥� all the while keeping his job in a new town with two babies and a sad wife.聽 His eyes look pained and vacant.

I can鈥檛 compare myself to that man.聽 I don鈥檛 sympathise with that courageous, angry, hurt, scared and volatile man anymore 鈥� I just don鈥檛 know him.

It鈥檚 not that I don鈥檛 want to know him, but from what I recall, he didn鈥檛 do much but hide from discomfort.聽 You could flip a coin and see which path he could have gone down. Though imagine I may, I just can鈥檛 imagine my life being of any value without my sons.

It鈥檚 not that not having sons means a value-less existence.聽 I鈥檓 saying that at a very basic level I鈥檓 a dad.聽 Was destined to be I think.

So, I can鈥檛 remember the man in the pictures standing in front of a bar with clean shaven skin and tight t-shirts.聽 No I can鈥檛 remember his mind and how it used to flit between fits of jealousy and abandonment.

My second set of teenage years at 38, raging with booze, love notes, tears, short-shorts, drugs and a size 30 waist 鈥� all the wild discomfort of not being the real me has brought me to here.

To my thirty-eighth year, more grey than brown, bearded jowls, a thicker body and a distinct flavour that needs to be firstly withstood, carefully cultivated and caressed to be loved.

Comfortable in discomfort.聽 That鈥檚 the real me.

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