Bigsley the Oaf

dark-tight-knot-heart dark-tight-knot-heart

Posted in Uncategorized by bigsleytheoaf on April 26, 2012

My father told me once that he would come home from work and cry, sometimes, after everyone else had gone to bed. I was crying at the time. It was the first winter I was home from MIT. I pretended that MIT was not hard for 4 years (and longer), but I couldn’t pretend in front of him.

When I spoke to him about the fact that my grandfather had had a stroke there were alien feelings, long lost feelings. I don’t care too much about genetic material, after all. I could only repeat “he was such a good man,” and weep.

Tonight at dinner, explaining the plot of “Scorched” to my family, and I couldn’t help it. The play was too sad for me to handle and was the start of something for me. It’s about the sacrifice intrinsic to the dark hidden things that we keep from everyone else because we love them so much.

Then there was prom night – explaining to my father that I thought that I might be gay, and I cried. I was so confused. Because I couldn’t kiss my prom date. Because she was a horrible bitch who I hated, though she was attractive.

In Japan, my surrogate father, Adachi-san, sat with me while I cried about the mounting tensions of living in a different culture. It could have been the most embarrassing moment of my life, but he treated me with a tenderness which I appreciate to this day.

I cry a lot in front of my father. I can’t hide my sadness from him. He lets me untie my knots and get past the tension.

My heart can be a hard, tight, dark place. I put a lot of pressure on myself. I’m usually not in a groove or at harmony with the things around me. I feel like an alien and a stranger, half the time.

I keep listening to this song and I keep crying and I keep writing this post:

Can you imagine what it would be like if your lover left you and you were strangers? When I think about this happening to me and Jen I can’t even begin to comprehend it, goddammit, it hurts so much. I know that I don’t appreciate the people around me enough, goddammit. Why can’t I just be happy with what I have?

I’m visiting my parents in Wilmington at the moment, and I’ve been in NYC since last Friday night. This trip has been a sad one. There is some healing aspect to sadness, though. I read a quote tonight which went something like “It’s one of the sad ironies of the universe that the times that we feel lonely are the same times that we most need to be alone.” I feel the need to be alone. I want to detach my soul from this lovely universe and go into a hole where I can breathe, alone.

I know there are things that I don’t admit to myself. I need to learn to be my own father. I need to untie this horrible knot that I have become, or cut it apart and start over.

Advertisements

One Response

Subscribe to comments with RSS.

  1. emmajolin said, on May 1, 2012 at 9:06 pm

    Your father sounds like such a good man. I think reading this helped me understand some part of you that I never understood before.

    Sometimes, people meet me and say I help them to be open. I think meeting you helped me to be open. And, maybe being your father’s son helped you to be open. I don’t know.

    Anyway. There’s always this impulse, when you see people sad and in pain, to offer advice and I’m fighting this impulse now. “Just do this and be happy!” or “sit with your emotions and feel them, accept them so you can move beyond them.”

    But, where you are seems like a natural place to be for you right now. It may even be necessary, I don’t know. All my advice would be lies so I won’t offer any.

    But, if you need someone to sit with and be sad with, you know where I am. I’m sitting right beside you.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: