He Never Had It...But He Has it Now

In retrospect he thought he had it, but maybe he never did? No, he did have it once. He lost it, however, at the age of ten. He lost it when the monster who called himself older brother violated him in ways no one should ever have to endure and was then beaten until he was unconscious and then thrown down a flight of stairs.

If that wasn't enough to lose it he lost it later that day when the other monster who called herself mother took older brother's lie for truth, which was that the boy received his injuries by fighting in school and was lying by saying it was older brother. She proceeded to read scripture to the boy about the rod of discipline removing foolishness from the heart of a boy and then beat him with a belt until his bruises had bruises and his already cracked and hurt ribs hurt just a little more.

This scene would repeat itself on a weekly basis for two years until he had enough and fought back. But it still didn't stop older brother from repeatedly trying to molest him in the middle of the night until the boy was fifteen. The mother never heard anything. She was too busy staring into a television, pining away after an ex husband that left them all when he was three and fantasizing about a life she would never have.

That was when the boy, now a full fledged teenager, moved out of the house of his birth. A house where he would never return and never call home again.

He hoped that once out of that hell hole and away from the monsters he could regain it but wasn't prepared for the demons that invaded and occupied his soul. He hardly slept. He carried guilt and shame with him everywhere he went. It was, he feared, forever lost.

During this time he turned to his drug of choice, men. He was young, smart and on his own. This would be a powerful aphrodisiac for older men who lived to do nothing more than make boys like him their prey. And that was a strong attraction for him since he used this to control them and make them do as he pleased. Never again would he relinquish power to anyone. Never again would anyone hurt him as he was hurt before. He held all the cards. He held the power.

As with all drugs and drug users, the high was intense and he always sought that rush with every fix only to realize that in order to maintain that high and subsequently keep the demons within at bay, he had to get more and more...and more. Men were coming in two, three and four a night. Sometimes consecutively, sometimes simultaneously.

The teenager became desensitized. No longer did the sex satisfy him. The only thing that did that was the entertainment he derived from seeing these men do whatever he wanted. They were so easy, so stupid, so...weak. But even that after a time didn't do anything.

Then came his childhood best friend. The only person he ever truly loved but also the only person he had never been with. The friend needed a place to stay.

After a few months the best friend declared his love for the teenager. He told him he had always loved him. The best friend now became husband. The two became mates, partners for life and the teenager, now sixteen, was happy for the first time in six years. He was wrong, it wasn't lost. Not only did he find it again, but it was better than he had ever imagined.

The demons were stilled. Sleep came easily especially when he wrapped his arms around his true love and their breathing synched and they drifted off together.

Unfortunately this wouldn't last. His husband had AIDS and would die five years later leaving the teenager, now an almost twenty one year old man, alone and more confused and lost than ever.

He had done everything for his husband. He took care of him when he was sick. He gave up all chances of continuing his education so his husband could stay in school and finish his. He never minded this. He always thought there would be time. He always thought things would work out and that this would all prove to be one huge nightmare and he'd wake up one day to find that his husband would be cured and they would live the life they had always dreamed of. But that day never came and once more he realized that which he had thought he possessed was lost to him again.

Time doesn't stand still. Years go by quickly. Some faster than others but after a while it all seems one big blur. His husband had a son who grew to call him father but the boy stayed with blood relatives which was, to the young man's mind, a good thing. For he feared that he'd infect the boy with the same hatred and violence that was so prevalent in his family and in his childhood.

The boy still called him father and though there was a vast distance between them as they lived in different states, the young man maintained contact and called the boy son. The demons came back, they too, like the young man, had grown and matured and found new ways to torture him and now their punishment would be endless.

So back to his drug of choice he went and this time he added other drugs, some smoked, some snorted. Because men alone just wouldn't do this time around. Self loathing was in full effect and with it a recklessness that almost got him killed on more than one occasion.

People came in and out of his life. Some better friends than others. Some were predators but they never wanted sexual favors. They wanted his love, attention and devotion. They drained him emotionally and for a while he didn't care. He knew what they were doing but he allowed it. After all, when you hate yourself and think yourself unworthy of anything good and positive, even negative attention is better than no attention at all.

The day came when he had finally hit so low he couldn't go any lower. He wallowed in self pity for a time and then realized that he could only go up and so up he went. Along the way, some of the friends he made left him. Others he left. But a few stayed with him and loved him and helped him...and loved him some more.

Lovers came and went. New friends were made and then something completely unexpected happened, he adopted two boys who like him went through some truly horrible experiences and he healed the relationship with his first husband's son, who still to this day calls him "Dad". He was needed, and not for what he could buy or for the things he could do or because he became a sycophant living for others lives. He was needed because of who he was...he was a father, a friend, a brother...part of a family.

And if this was all an unexpected surprise something else happened that truly took his breath away. He found passion for life, for his sons and above all...for himself.

In retrospect he thought he had it but perhaps never really did. Because now that he has it, he knows he never ever felt this way before.

He has, truly and for the first time ever in his life....peace.