of my having 'ghosted' many friends in the past,
losing contact with them, leaving no forwarding address,
only for them to find me many years later on facebook.
At the time I ghosted them, I felt like a ghost, myself.
When I was young any sense of my personal space,
my boundaries, my self, felt like they were borrowed
- they all belonged to somone else but were mine to use
until it was time to return them and replace them
with a new set of age-appropriate borrrowed belongings.
Values that fitted the dictates of the day-until they didn't.
This sense of weak attachment continued,
until I learned that I had to accept that I was gay.
The package - the marriage, the wife, the children,
the mortgage, the job 'for life', were not going to be
loaned to me after the sense of the disownship
and the half life I had been lent by my family.
After plunbing the depths of the history
of my being serially disowned by the pasts
that I had forcibly borrowed from,
and surfacing again, I was a differnt person.
I was left to seek 'my chosen family',
where I knew before we found each other
that any sense of the meaning of 'unconditional'
in 'unconditional acceptance' would be relative.
Any exit could be the start of a new beginning
where I could keep my pasts
as long as I left a clean ending behind me.....
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