It was around 4 in the morning. My head was spinning and I was confused. I didn’t recognize anything around me as I drove these dark residential streets. I was trying to get home, but I was lost.
It’s been 11 years, but the emotions and the confusion are still crystal clear. It had been easy to get to the place where I had met this woman to talk, but when I finally left — eight or nine hours later — I mistakenly started down the wrong road and became dreadfully lost.
I have no idea why that confusing night is on my mind right now. An hour or so ago, I noticed a horrible ball of emotions in the pit of my stomach. Before I knew it, I was seeing fragmentary images from that night — and I was feeling those terrible emotions.
Fear. Guilt. Shame. Loneliness. Confusion.
Getting lost that night as I left is deeply symbolic of what I did to myself that weekend. I came on a straight and clear road to meet someone that night, but I made a wrong turn and got lost. In some ways, I’ve been lost ever since.
We’re neither friends nor enemies, just strangers who share the past
‘This path leads to somewhere I think I can finally say, I’m home’
When love finally dies, it’s like a fever breaks and the pain is gone
My need to rescue my child self fuels my urge to rescue animals
Hurt people hurt people, and it’s hard to forgive that in ourselves
Gay marriage debate turns into fight for validation of private beliefs