One nuclear family can destroy your whole life.
The questioned I get asked the most when someone finds out I’ve been adopted:
When did you find out you were adopted? Every day it seems like my Mum reminds me. But I was told, even if I didn’t understand it, by my Mum. She was always up front about it to me. Sometimes to the point that it was a threat or something like that, a hidden vow of ‘you will never be fully mine.’ Oxy helped calm me down and then that went away. Booze helped with the depression but that went away. Birthdays are still pretty hard on me!
Up in my head with little or no social life I have been given free rein to think as little or as much as I want. Usually I can hide behind the fantasy movies, the porn, and the picture taking. Somehow today I’m just no able to pull myself out of IT!
It happens from time to time. When I worked at the Kennel I’d just put my head on the table in the back and not lift it for hours. People would come and go. Some would say, what’s wrong with her?
At the time, the question was usually directed to Kate. At the time, she knew me better than anyone had ever known me. I suppose it’s because she took the time. Not many have.
I’ve talked about distance before. How it’s made my mistakes seem smaller and of the need for less self-discovery. In NH on a day like today, a good photographer would be out. Taking hold of their genre and embracing their talents.
All I keep thinking of are the last words I ever spoke to Kate. Not the nasty texting back and forth. Not the sending of hurt texts to Zoey so Zoey could let Kate have it on Facebook. Not the forged and phallic shame of harassment.
She, Kate, had been out for a smoke before turn outs for the dogs. I had been attempting to leave but really wanted one last moment with her. Why? Only the Gods and Goddesses know.
We had kissed passionately by her truck. It held more to it. The embrace and connection had been the strongest I had ever felt it.
She whispered in my ear as she always did,
“Ambien what do you want me to do? How can I make you happy?”
My last and final words for the rest of eternity in regards to that affair:
“I just want your fingers in me right now!”
That was it. End of our torrid story.
I had Facebook-ed Zoey and thanked her for not shunning me. She had known what a volatile relationship Kate and I had. She had known that our last intimidate moment together had been in a vacant kennel parking lot late December.
Four days later, I called via threats of disownment from Mother Theresa and pointed the harassment finger at Kate. Four months later, did it really matter? Four months later, I am no closer to feeling that connection I almost had. A connection better than having not been born unto my disapproving mother, not having been considered her blood and having felt like happiness was not something that would always be taken away by my simple lack of not approved genetic make-up.
