Not Saying a Word

I’m a quiet guy, most of the time. I don’t always say what is on my mind. I used to figure that saying nothing would make “it” better.

What ever “it” was.

I think this nature of mine comes from my upbringing. My mother ((stepmother#1)) was the type of person, who just started her tirade all over again if you argued with her or interrupted her.

My Dad tended to be the type that just ignored what you said, such as if I was helping him in the garage working on something, and I saw what he was doing wrong - putting something together, such as a lawn mower that he had taken apart – he would just ignore me if I suggested that it would fit if he just turned it over.

Almost everyone in my life “knew” the correct way of doing whatever “it” was.

So at some point I just stopped talking. I think I stopped listening too. I became very isolated and withdrawn.

I was still involved with the things I was interested in, but I often did not share my feelings. I don’t think it helped that at about the same time an older brother and younger sister left home. There was much more going on than I ever knew, and theirs lives were very different than mine.

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Still life goes on, and we slowly become whom we are. If we are able, we forgive and forget and learn and embrace that sometimes, people did the best that they knew how.

I slowly discovered who I was, a Spiritual Gay Man, and eventually the truth of who I was became more important than who my parents wanted me to be, so I came out. Slowly over the years, I have become closer to my family, and I love them even more than before.

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I used to have this idea, that when two people were trying to decide to go to a movie, that if I said “I don’t care which movie we go to see”, that it meant I had a credit in the “ bank” for when there was a movie that I really wanted to see.

It took a friend to point out that “ I don’t care” means “I don’t care”.

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Slowly I learned that I have to tell people what I want every time, and though that doesn’t mean I will get it, but at least they know what I want.

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So what is this all about? – Just something I need to get off my chest.

Over a year ago, a friend came to my house, this friend, like most of my friends is opinionated. Now for a little history – We have known each other for many years, and over the years I learned to disagree with him, and he would sometimes call me up and ask “if I was mad at him” I was never mad, for I knew that he had his opinion and I had mine.

However, the last time he was at my house, he said things that were out of line. A year earlier, he was all most killed by a drunken driver, and when he was here, he had too much to drink, was impatient and did not wait his turn at the stop sign and ran into a motorcycle rider and passenger.

Thankfully he did not hurt anyone, however when he got back to my house, he then proceeded to get drunk, and because he was drunk, he said things to me that I felt were his projections of my relations with my family. ((concerning my relationship with my father, my old business, various religious beliefs of my family))

I told him he was drunk and to go to bed, his reply was “If you agree with me, don’t say anything, otherwise let’s keep talking about it."

Well I don’t argue with drunken people, usually I don’t allow them in my house. So he went to bed, he left the next morning and we haven’t talked since.

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Cowboy said, “Your not the same person he knew so many years ago, you're more confident in yourself, you work out, you’re happy”

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I guess, I expected him to call up and apologize at some point, not for his thoughts, for he is entitled to his thoughts, but for the fact that he was drunk, that he expressed them in such a way, that he was drunk driving, and that he verbally attacked my family.

Well, life doesn’t happen that way you think it should sometimes, and I guess that I really don’t need people in my life that can’t apologize for the hurt they have caused other people.

Do I miss him? Sure, but I don’t need that kind of drama in my life. – So life goes on, and I’m a little sadder, for I had hoped that he would be the kind of person that could listen. That our years of friendship would mean something to him.

I’m sure you could ask, “Don’t the years of friendship meant something to me?”

Well, yes they do, but sometimes we have to let go of things that do not allow ourselves to grow, to change. And I no longer am willing to let someone verbally abuse me.