Oct 19, 2003, 11:26 AMWow what a difference a day makes. I picked up the video I'd put a hold on at the the library, Pathway to Healing: A Trauma Recovery Program and watched the entire thing (90 minutes). Lots of good insight, some of it new--it wasn't until last night, though, that I made the most visceral connection with what I heard. The therapist, David Berceli, talked about the various phases of recovery (and I don't have his schema memorized in my head) and one of the earlier phases was finding a place of safety. And once you've found this place of safety, how things get more screwed up, and stuff starts to come up, and you feel worse before you feel better.
That's where I think I am now, both in terms of the therapy I'm getting with my counselor, but even more relevantly, in my relationship with Miles. And that's why I'm so often getting triggered around Miles: our relationship has become "safe space" where these things are coming up.
That comforts me a lot, actually. Recognizing that.
I didn't feel better immediately, though: I felt sluggish, very low energetically, and was kind of dreading the dinner party over at Miles's. Didn't know if I could face a roomful of new people feeling this depleted. Didn't feel connected, at all, with Miles after the strange night before. (When we parted it was kind of odd; we both seemed aloof. No doubt we were in fact both confused.) Plus I was a bit worried about how much he would drink, how I'd react to that.
Anyway, it was actually a fascinating evening over there. Absorbing. That's the key thing: I was absorbed by events not related to the assault. This felt like a first, like a breathrough, like hope manifesting finally. And I don't mean it was all positive. As often happens (strangely!), I was caught off guard by how discomfited I was meeting a bunch of new people all at once in a social setting. Part of why I was caught off guard was, this was such a typical thing, such a pre-assault kind of neurosis: it actually made me feel good, to be absorbed in something so (for me) normal! And it wasn't extreme: I was my usual quiet self with the whole large group (Miles kept asking me if I was okay--he doesn't know that side of me very good yet), and yet I did visit effortlessly with one or two people at a time.
It was Miles's roomie Henry's 67th birthday. He was a coarse old gay guy--I didn't much like him at first, but that's my usual first reaction and I didn't get stuck on it--and the invitees were mostly middle-aged gay and straight friends of his, including Adolf, the owner of the rooming house and Miles's ex-lover, who's 50-something. I was prepared not to like Adolf, but I actually did. He seemed nice. We had a nice little chat outside when I was smoking at one point. (Which kind of freaked Miles out when I told him later.) Miles was the only other roommate who was invited, so I didn't get to meet his housemates like I expected.
I smoked a lot outside, and Miles took me on a detailed tour of the house, where he'd lived with Adolf as his lover for 2, 3 or maybe 4 years before he went to *** so he was very involved in helping with renovations, etc. He is very rooted there. Right now, though, he's staying for free in a makeshift little dive of a room (if you can call it a "room") under the stairwell: what a dump! The house, though, is very nicely decorated and it would be a comfortable place to live. (Nobutoshi used to live there, so he'd be shocked to learn I spent an evening there, and was now dating one of his former roomies. Too wild.)
Miles did drink, a lot. Well he brought a six-pack of beer home and I presume he drank the whole thing. But that's probably all he drank. He got really giggly and loud but was not embarassing at all. It was kind of cute. But I did tense up about this, as expected.
Adolf's 81 year old mother from Ontario was there too and Miles adores her. She plainly adores him too, and from what Miles said she's heartbroken that Miles and Adolf are no longer together. She never spoke to or looked at me, which I kind of laughed about. But Miles spent over an hour chatting her up, while Adolf and his new young (not very cute!) Asian boyfriend sat right there. I felt Miles was investing a lot of effort in "sucking up" to her in a way to express how much he still cared about Adolf or something, and this made me squirm. I got quite bent out of shape about it for a few minutes, but then I just sort of laughed at myself and let it go.
I mean, if Miles is not over Adolf -- which, whether he's still in love or not, he plainly is not over the relationship-- what does that matter to me? We have an emotionally rich relationship right now, with a very uncertain short-term future; I don't need to worry about this kind of baggage he may or may not have.
Same about his drinking, really: I just kind of eventually decided that I had a choice about whether or not to make this an issue. His drinking doesn't affect me; he rarely drinks around me, and his behaviour while inebriated last night was more cute than anything. If he has a drinking problem, it'll be up to him to realize that and I don't need to take any responsibility or, what's worse, over-react.
The only thing I didn't like was that--later, after Adolf and his mother left--he got so emotionally open with me. Sat beside me on the couch (with the rest of the raucous gang talking loudly and drunkenly around the dining room table) and got all touchy-feely and wanting to talk about "us", and about my recovery from the assault, and every intimate thing that's real between us. That made me really squirm. I mean, I don't like engaging in intense and intimate conversation with a drunk person, never mind in a room full of drunk people I don't know! So I tried to poo-poo his attempts to discuss, and to change the subject.
He was also very insecure, kept apologizing. Apologizing for everything. For triggering me the night before, for drinking (and, eventually, smoking up profusely) in front of me, and a whole bunch of other stuff. At first I was annoyed, then bemused.
Bemused is better.
So one of the things he said--in that "little boy's voice" that at first irritated me but now is kind of endearing--was "How are you going to be when I leave? I don't want to break your heart? What are you going to do?" I chose not to reply, instead just registering the fact that this was very much on his mind, as well as mine. He also said something about my recovery from the assault, something about needing to learn to trust again, that I had no trust--he didn't say it in a judgemental way (which really would have upset me) but in a compassionate way that made me think about whether what he was saying was true or not. I don't know. I mean, I trust him, I think.
He also said he needed to drink because he was shy, inhibited. I didn't confront him on that, but it's bullshit. He didn't really act very much differently under the influence. Just a little sillier, a bit freer. But he's one of the most confident guys I've ever met. Very self-assured. Of course that's probably at least partially a facade--as it is with all of us--but he really doesn't act much different. I mean, he obviously feels less inhibited, but it's more going on inside him than externally, at least in terms of what I observe.
Anyway.
(I took him to an AA meeting Friday night, and so it will be interesting to see how that percolates away inside him. I don't know if he's an alcoholic. Really and truly, I do not. I think he's certainly susceptible to alcoholism developing, what with an alcoholic father and the way he drinks now. But he'll figure that out in the fullness of time, and in the meantime I don't need to worry.)
In a strange sort of way, I guess I saw some of his frailty, his insecurity last night and it drew me closer to him. Which wasn't what I was expecting, what I was dreading. I just sort of went with what was happening. He unbuttoned my shirt and began playing with my nipples as we necked on the couch, and I didn't want to get too carried away right there so I took the initiative and walked into his bedroom. He joined me there, and we went on to have the hottest sex we've ever had. He was a lot freer and more spontaneous sexually--not that he isn't usually, but erotically the difference was more noticeable and I couldn't help but enjoy myself immensely as he sucked my cock with abandon, licked me all over,rimmed me, and kissed me madly. He got so excited! Exclaiming, again and again, how "hot" I was (a word he's never used before, and one I definitely take with a grain of salt) and how much he liked me. Well, let's just say we really connected; the sixty-nine session was the hottest manifestation of that particular sex-act I've ever had, period. Sheesh. Miles almost made me cum from sucking my cock, no small feat. But we did finish in the usual (hot!) way, jerking ourselves off as we kissed, and both came buckets. It did really connect us: I hadn't expected to spend the night there with him in his dinky little bed, but I didn't want to leave. I just wanted to hold him and cuddle him all night.
He was exhausted and ready to pass out immediately upon cumming, and he turned the light out and then, very concemed, asked if I was okay in total darkness. And I was. Because I wasn't at home, because Diego or anyone would never find me here, the darkness didn't bother me one bit.
He fell to sleep immediately and I was wide wide awake with a burgeoning bladder. And then he began to snore, loudly. I thought it was hilarious, and as time went on, I realized I'd probably lie awake all night. Got up to use the bathroom, threw on my jeans without underwear, and peed. He kind of woke up momentarily when I got out of bed. But I shut his door, not realizing it locks automatically, and so when I came back I couldn't get in. And there's Miles back to sleep with his earplugs in, and I had to knock and knock and knock to get him to wake up. (Thank god I at least put some pants on!) One of his female roomies came down the hall to see what the noise was about and she stared at me suspiciously.
Thankfully Miles woke up at that moment, and opened the door buck-naked and squealed when he saw her standing there. (laff)
He almost fell back to sleep before I could communicate my intention to go home after all. It was dark, and I had trouble finding my clothes so I didn't bother locating my underwear or socks. Borrowed a pair of socks and a pair of shoes from him, as my shoes were still in Henry's part of the house. Left him to sleep at about 12:30 and ended up walking all the way to the subway station (a good 20 minute walk, in the rain) and I felt absolutely exuberant. I was so far removed from the anxiety and the doldrums about the assault: I felt like for the first time I'd engaged with something new, an experience that drew me out of myself and made me present, intensely present. Intensely connected with Miles.
I love him, you know? I often want to blurt that out, but so far have refrained.
I caught the subway home then a taxi home the rest of the way. Played on gay.com for a good hour or so before bed, and was delighted with all that too.
Everything is gonna be okay. That's about as profound as it gets, but you know something? What else do I need to know for today?
Everything is gonna be okay.
