Writing as inspired

(this was in regard to my question for inspiration earlier on):

As for me –

What was your relationship like with your Mother/Mother Figure/Primary Caregiver?
Did you feel unconditionally loved, supported and safe?
What kind of relationships do you have with the women in your life now?

All good contemplations presently !

JK

 

When I decided to leave this plush place I resided in, I never thought
it would immediately result in a full day’s work for both me and the
owner of my former home: because that was how long it took for her to
push my nearly 26 inches and over 8 pounds into what is home to me
now…

A quarter to ten in the evening, on the 23rd of February 1963 my mum got
to present me to Dad, who was proud as a peacock with three
tails.

The first few months were ok, although I did notice something of a
difference between the two. Only later did I connect the dots, and found
out that my father didn’t only rule absolutely, but he also happened to
like me a lot more than my mom. Now this wasn’t really personal, as I
found out later, but more of a generic condition: my Dad was just one of
those guys that liked guys better, loved them even. He probably just
married my Mum because it provided an air of normalcy, which was
appreciated in those days.

Which is no condemnation, for he did teach me a lot, although his
methods were radically different from those of my Mum. She must be an
incarnated Angel, because pretty soon I began to follow her leads. And
if I ventured on paths which her hadn’t warned me
about yet, Dad was usually around to tell me what I couldn’t do, along
with what I should do. Now if they’d alternated their roles, things
would have been entirely different. But I guess this play was the one
I’d scripted for myself before coming here.

Of course I grew up, and Mum’s style in regard to my clothing made sure I
became the outsider in class. I doubt it was her intention, but that’s
what happened. And although I did care about belonging, the idea of just
going it alone seemed more and more the thing to do.

I didn’t bring home many friends, and certainly no girls, because by
then I’d already decided they were too nice to take home to Dad. Not
that he’d notice, but he did notice the boys, and left no doubt that
they were all ‘one of the boys’.

So isolation became complete, when I started to wonder if I was one of
the boys too… And no, he never came after me, but the doubt sure made
life hell for a while. In the end I decided the issue, but experiences
until then had already caused me and my brothers to create ourselves
with just one big handicap: We were just too darn nice to ever have a
chance in the dating arena!

I don’t speak to my remaining brother so often that I can vouch for
what’s in his mind, so I’ll have to just tell you how this made me turn
out to be. I know, they are all my choices, and my creations, but back
then it was just the world out there which I though existed independent
of me….

Ok, not gay, but instead totally devoted to women. Like the Angel who
had given birth to me, all those delightful beings must have come from a
far better place than us male mortals. And the few opportunities I had
to interact with them didn’t really help:

When I was about 22, my two brothers (one died in 2007) banded together,
and handed me over to one of their ladyfriends. She needed only ten
days to decide I wasn’t for her…

By the end of my study I moved as far away from home as I could, because
I couldn’t stand the relationship between Mum and Dad: her going out of
her way to help him, and him criticizing her every chance he got! And
he is a true master at finding reasons.

Earlier on, there was a point where Mom and us had had enough. Ernst ran
away, and me and Leo eventually helped Mom to pack, so we could leave.
That would probably have changed things considerately, if it were not
for the fact that even rocks apparently can cry! I’d never seen him that
small! He actually begged her to forget about leaving, because he
couldn’t live without her. She turned around, and we had to follow. But
his attitude never changed. And if you are then later warned not to mess
with their relationship again, distance becomes quite appealing…

So I moved to the center of Holland, a city called Utrecht. But being
issued a meant I could visit my penpal Linda in Zutphen.
There also had been one tiny blonde lady in highschool, but I only dared
give her concealed hints, and she never picked them up. Actually, she
complicated things a bit, because Ada had the audacity (according to
Linda) to flirt with me at my own wedding! Just my luck, the moment I
became involved, I apparently also became fair game for the more daring
of the female persuasion….  But we are again friends (since I was
divorced), even though she was married. Again, nothing but talking…

And it wasn’t the first time Linda had problems with my ladyfriends,
although none ever came closer to me than she did. No one still has…. 
But Reintje, whom I’d met before Linda and with whom we went to
for a weekend (she was married), made Paris look like Dante’s to
Linda. Point was, until Linda made me aware of it, I never noticed
Reintje’s very explicit innuendo towards me. Too dumb to even notice,
figures….

But back the second serious one: Linda was quite nice, and yes it was
meant to be, but the first thought in my mind when I met her for the
first time face to face was not one of my nicest: "She is not the One,
but for now I’m quite happy with her."

And so it was bound to be terminal, although it took the better part of
seventeen years to finally go poof! And it was great while it lasted,
since it resulted in two lovely young ladies. Part of the trouble was,
that coming from a home where strict rules applied, had made me decide
to never do such a thing to my kids. Linda came from strict rules as
well, but she only had her Mom to deal with. Apparently she had figured
that rules are needed, and that was part of the clash. When bipolar
disorder added to the mix, the end came.

No one is to blame for it, but truth be said: Linda initiated it, and
for all the right reasons. I fought it for a while, trying to become the
one I perceived her to want. But no matter what I did or became, she
stayed the course. November 2005 was the end, and the beginning at the
same time: now single, but not ready for moore by a long shot! In fact,
first learning to appreciate solitude, I’d realised that I’d always
needed it, and probably always will, every now and then.

There was however the decision that I’d no longer disregard a thought
like the one I’d had meeting Linda: no more compromises, although that
seems to clash with the feeling of total adoration that accompanies it.
Figuring that such an attitude would probably leave me single for the
remainder of my stay here, life didn’t seem altogether fair: how on
Earth would I find an Angel willing to step up to me?

And then Seda came along: small, like Ada, but with pitchblack hair, and
the cutest dark brown eyes. Mere superficialities you say, but life has
developed me into one who absolutely appreciates such things. No insult
intended to ladies who are taller, blonder, more voluptuous or more
plain, but a man can only have one absolutely favorite flavour of
icecream, and Seda was it. In fact, she even had me do what I’d never
thought I’d do: proposing to a married woman in case she ever became
single again, even though all we had done so far was talk. And we still
haven’t done anything more, except that the events around her and me
inspired me to write my second novel. And she showed me that Angels like
the One I’m looking for really do exist. But to this day, I’m still not
sure if she’s the One, or just one of the pointers leading to her…..

Love your Legacy,

Dré