Friends

From the beginning you have been beside me, cradling me in your arms, the warmth of your body shielding me from the coldness of this world. When the currents try as they may, to pull me under, down into the abyss of death, you have been my strength, keeping my head above the raging waters. Where would I be without you?

Josh Groban - February Song

Sometimes a song says it all.....

Missing Piece

I am still looking for that last missing piece of the puzzle. I know it is still out there. At times, when I am down, at my lowest, when I am most vunerable, I will allow doubt to creep in and cloud the senses, but I know deep down that it is waiting for me. I refuse to give up, refuse to stop believing that someday I will find it and the puzzle will be complete.

Tug of War

Another day dawns in the life of Stephen and still the tug of war rages. The demons, my demons are still there, tauting me, haunting me, tormenting me, but I refuse to allow them to drag me back into the darkness . . . the darkness I have struggled so hard to escape. Wait, don't start shouting Hallelujahs from on High, I have not swung open the closet door yet, but something has changed. The white flag has been raised, my feet, for once, planted firmly on common ground. Years spent trying to analyse how, why, or what I should have done is over, it's to late, it's water under the bridge. Time spent contemplating on what the future holds is over, I cannot see further than today. So, honestly I can not say this year will be the year of freedom or if it will end like the last one, or hundreds of others that have come and gone, but you know, it is OK.

Shattered

It is hard, so very hard, to escape the demons. For weeks, I have been plagued, tormented by their presence. For weeks, I have been lost, hidden away from everyone, even at times hidden from myself. For weeks, lost in solitude, lost in silence, wandering aimlessly through the end of another year. Another year of dreams, broken promises, failed hopes made to myself . . . shattered. Like a trapped lightening bug finding freedom with the shattered glass, my dreams, my hopes . . . all gone with the passing of the old year. Is it possible, for new beginnings, new hopes, new dreams? Dare I wish upon the New Year?

Missing

During my morning shave, I stood there looking at the man in the mirror and I realized there was a part of him/me that I no longer could see. For five full minutes, I stood . . . shaving cream drying on my face, hand just holding the razor . . . face to face, I stared. The mirrored image was mine, each line, each wrinkle, etched by time I recognized, but something was amiss, something was different. A part of this man had vanished, a part of me, gone. No longer whole, I stood looking at an empty shell of the man that once was. I was afraid, I had hidden him for so long, shadowed him in secrecy, denied him for so long, that he had given up. His/mine/our hopes, our dreams swallowed up by the darkness of time. Standing there, staring into my own misty eyes, I wonder if our paths will ever cross again. . .

Comments

There are no words within the covers of the dictionary that could describe what it meant to me reading the comments each of you left on the "Crossroads" post. It only makes me realize that this journey is only made more wonderful by having friends, such as you. Hugs and Kisses: Michael, Dave, Steven, Derek, and Jon.

World Aids Day 2007

In 2007 33.2 million [30.6 – 36.1 million] people were estimated to be living with HIV.

BUT

With more than 6,800 new infections and over 5,700 deaths each day due to AIDS we must expand our efforts in order to significantly reduce the impact of AIDS worldwide.”

*data source: UNAIDS 2007 AIDS Epidemic Upd

Crossroads

When you find yourself wandering around in the valley of the shadow of death with no way out, it is hard finding the strength, it is hard trying to hold onto the faith that has been promised. When you find yourself surrounded by cliffs of jagged rocks and there is no rope, when there is no Bear Grylls vine to climb, how do you keep the faith? When you find yourself standing at the crossroads with no roadmap, with no GPS, how do you know which path to take?

Exhausted

The laughter, the smiles, the hugs were contagious, spreading like a virus, a good disease passing from one to another as each family member or friend arrived yesterday.

Where's my hug? Come here, I haven't seen you in so long.

Haven't seen me? We had lunch yesterday, we talked on the phone last night!

That was yesterday.

Outstretched arms reach and pull you in for yet another squeeze.

That's my family. Seldom a time can I recall not giving or receiving a hug as we see one another and always before leaving there is a hug or a handshake and the utter of those three little words . . . I love you. We don't think about it, it is something we do, it is something we have always done.

So why did I think about it or notice it more so, yesterday? My mind was racing as if a mule's condom bag had burst releasing a rush of its contents directly into my brain. I couldn't help it, I couldn't shut it down. The questions played over and over on my mind's movie screen.

If you knew? Would the hugs still be there? Would I ever hear those three little words . . . I love you? If you really knew?

If you knew? Would the hugs still be there? Would I ever hear those three little words . . .I love you? If you really knew?

Over and over . . . it played!

Today, I am exhausted.

Happy Thanksgiving 2007

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and I could not let it go by without wishing you, my friends, a Happy Thanksgiving Day and letting you know how much I love and cherish each of you and how much I give thanks to you for always being there for me. Hugs and Kisses from Stephen

Wind Beneath My Wings

If only I had wings to fly. . .

It Was Hard

I heard the door open but this is a normal occurrence at work, people are constantly coming and going, so I didn't bother to look and see who had walked up behind me until a hand fell to rest on my shoulder. When I shrivelled around in the chair I came eyeball to crotch with a co-worker. A young guy I had never given a second glance but somehow he had transformed himself into a hot stud. He had the day off, had been working around the house and only stopped by to get something he needed from his locker. Tattered, ripped jeans barely kept his crotch full of man meat covered but the worn out fabric did nothing to hide his muscled thighs covered in thick black hair and here I was face level away. Hot Damn was the first thing that came to mind and I'm still thanking the Gods, I had the piece of mind not to have said it out loud. It was hard, so very hard, but I managed to control myself, at least the outer self, but inside . . . the inner self was melting with lust if the truth had to be told. Thank goodness it was a slow day, my concentration wasn't worth a damn for the rest of day.

I Need A Kiss

It's A Wonderful World

Back in 2005, I sat down in front of a blank computer screen and gave birth. Like a newborn baby it came into the world kicking and screaming. Struggling to stay inside, warm, safe and secure, it fought against the labor pains. Bring me my damn epidural now, I shouted. Wait! What was I thinking, was I crazy! Hell, if I had one of those, I wouldn't be able to feel my Dick! The computer screen stared back at me, like a doctor's face peering up from between outstretched legs, it waited. Push. . . push harder, damnit, I said, Push! I wait, I stare at the screen, another contraction comes, I PUSH, it starts to crown, I push harder, out pops some words, a sentence, a thought, it is out, I have given birth. Sucking in its first breath of air, my blog is born. I sit there staring at the words on the screen wondering what in the Hell was I going to do with it now? I hit publish . . . This is from an earlier post describing the day my blog was born, but truthfully it was the day I was born, at least the man I should have been. I had to push hard against the rusty hinges of this closet door, it wasn't an easy task, an easy decision. The doorstop that keeps it open has slipped a few times along the way almost trapping me back into the confines of this darkened closet but the door is still open and it is because of the friends I have met along this journey of self-discovery. It truly is a wonderful world we live in. Always remember, a comment, an email, being someones friend can turn an ordinary day into a special day. Thank-you for my special day. Hugs and Kisses, Stephen

A Blind Date and He Stood Me Up

Weeks and weeks of planning had went into this, all the preparations made, nothing left to chance, all the arrangements had been taken care of, I thought we had a date. I barely slept the night before thinking about our meeting, my stomach full of dancing butterflies, my eyes glued to the clock and its ticking seconds. I played out all the things that could happen, played out all the things I wanted to happen while I laid there waiting, wide awake. Closing my eyes, I tried to force myself to sleep, but I just couldn't wait any longer, I jumped up, I snatched on the clothes neatly laid out the night before and out the door I went. I knew I wanted to be there long before he arrived. I needed time to get my nerves settled down. I had to keep my excitement in check, I couldn't dare allow him to see what this meant to me. Our first meeting had to be perfect and I knew if I got there ahead of him, I had the advantage. I could watch his approach, I could judge if he was a keeper or not. He had to be at least an "8" before I would even consider it and then have some mass to go along with it. Call me a "Size Queen" if you want, but I wanted something I could wrap my fingers around, the bigger the better. It had been a long time for me and I needed a good one, I needed to feel alive again. I needed this to be my lucky day, but alias, it wasn't. I did everything I was suppose to do, I kept my end of the bargain, but he never showed up. I waited and waited. I looked and I watched. I prayed, but he never showed up. My blind date, stood me up!

How was your opening day of deer season?

I think perhaps this post needs a little explaining. My passion happens to be Deer hunting. My date, in mention, was with an 8 point buck, not a man. As much as I would have loved for it to have been about a possible encounter with a hunk of male flesh, I probably would have been the one not showing up, nothing interferes with my opening day of deer season.

Bowels of Hell

Sorry for the lack of posting but before I knew what had happened my demons escaped the chains of their confinement and like a thief in the night, they robbed me of any desire, any hope, any feeling. I was alive, there was life, the rise and fall of my chest as I gasped for air told me this, but there was nothing inside. A void, an empty cavity surrounded by the shell of the man, the man that once was. I looked, I searched, but as far has my eyes could see, there was nothing but blackness. I would be lying to you, I would be lying to myself, if I said I never thought about giving up. Many times I thought about taking the easy way out. Many times I thought about closing the door to forever remain in the darkness of this closet. Many times I thought about slowly slipping away, slowly disappearing back into the anonymity from whence I came. Would any one know I was gone? Would any one care? My demons taunted me with their whispers to hit the delete button. My finger rested on the key many times but I could not press, I just could not. Something, someone would not allow it. I stumbled, I bled from the jagged rocks, hand over hand, I clawed my way back from the Bowels of Hell. Beaten, battered, I emerge once again, I refuse to give up. . . I refuse to shut the door.

God

Are you there?

Are you listening?

Peering From Within

Like a nasty rumor too good to keep to ones self from mouth to ear it spread like a virus infecting each person it came into contact with.

Lock up your children,their coming to town. Their to camp on the outskirts of town, down by the river, they'll be. Keep your valuables close at hand,lock your doors, bar your windows, their coming to town. Down by the river, they'll be.

The virus spread.

My heart skipped a beat, maybe two when it came my time to be infected and I heard "they" were coming to town and "they" were to camp on the outskirts of town. Down by the river, I heard, they'll be. I wasn't afraid of losing a child, I wasn't afraid of being robbed in the dead of night, something far greater caused the hairs on my neck to stand up, and it was this something far greater that I was afraid of. The hands of the clock took their time ticking off the minutes, I waited. I wish I could say patiently I waited, but it was agonizingly painful, father waiting on his firstborn painful. But I waited, I had to know.

Black as a witches cauldron was the night, no moon, no stars, the darkest night I had ever seen as I made my way to the outskirts of town, down to the river, where they were supposed to be. Now too small an area, my heart pounded the walls of my chest in anticipation, scared to find out, scared not to find out. I had to know and this was my chance, perhaps, my only chance. I would have brought someone with me,if it had been possible but this was something I had to do alone. The only light of the camp flickered in the night keeping the arms of darkness at bay as shadows, blackened silhouettes, danced to the music. A stranger stepped from the darkness into the light of the camp, the music, the dance stopped, I stood there, I waited. Without a word, the oldest, not without pain, stood and walked toward me. The music, the dance began again as her gnarled twisted fingers took mine and led me away.

I have looked into the Gypsy woman's crystal ball and there was nothing. I thought there would have been more. I had prayed with all there was inside for more, but once the swirling smoke cleared there was nothing but a glass ball sitting on a table.

Acceptance can be such an evil word . . . she whispers.

Not fully open, not completely closed, always peering out into the world from within. A life, slightly ajar. A dream just out of reach.

Acceptance can be such an evil word. . .she whispers.

Dear Diary

Dear Diary,
With pen in hand, I stare at the blank page, the empty lines, but there is nothing but darkness. Hidden in the void the words are there, they hunger for release, for freedom, but they cannot find their way out. The promise of a new life, a chance to live, tempts them from the light shining from underneath the door. Hostages held, bound, tied, the words struggle to come together. They know in numbers there is strength, in numbers words become thoughts, in numbers words are stronger than the sticks glued together to form the door that holds them captive. In numbers words become sentences, the lines no longer blank. In numbers words becomes ideas . . . dear diary, can you keep a secret?