Look at me, man. I did it. I left the nest! When Alvin, the recruiter, invited me to move to StoryBrook I was so nervous. I’ve never really been on my own before – even though it often felt like it. It’s a tough spot of being a middle child, you tend to fade into the foreground – everyone’s looking right past you as you’re standing there screaming for someone to notice.
Growing up, I had to act bigger, older than I was and just get whatever it was I needed done on my own. ‘Spose that’s why I made the decision to leave, but hey(!), it’s turned out to be a great one! Journal, I met someone. He and I, we spent a long, intimate evening together and it was an oddly surreal experience. It felt like we had gotten through to each other in ways that no one has ever gotten through to me before. It was pretty awesome and – man – it felt great!
There was a softness to him. It made me feel like I could be soft, too. We laid together and just spoke for hours. He’s still pretty fresh out of a relationship. His ex hurt him pretty bad, leading him on and then just abandoning him to his misery. I just had to wrap him up in my wings and, damn, I didn’t want to let him go.
You know that feeling you get when you feel like you need permission to cry, but you don’t really know you need that permission until you get it? Yeah… That’s what my experience was with him. Marshal…
Most of my life I’ve had to be cold stone. Poker face plastered on 24/7. It’s tough acting tough all the time. But, here in StoryBrook…No one’s asking me to be tough anymore. No one that is, except myself. Why am I still expecting frigid emotionlessness from myself? I guess expectations just get stuck in your head and it’s just so damn hard to shake ‘em.
Hm. Things are looking up, Journal. And I mean, really looking up. I think that moving to StoryBrook has given me the clean slate that I needed. I just…Old habits die hard. I still feel so tense and angry, and man do I feel clueless. It really is one day, one step at a time.
I’m like a grown eagle who’s learning how to fly all over again. What’s wrong with me, wingo?