Embodiment

Certain things tend to become embodiments for things we love or hate. They hold a place in our minds that is significant only to that object, person or place.

When I got my first car, a silver '92 Ford Escort, I was at a really strange place in my life. 16 and openly gay, my friends and I would pile into the little silver monster (which we affectionately called The Tank because I could ram it into anything and never make a dent) to skip class and run up to the mall. The Tank is where I both gave and received my first road-head, went to the drive in almost weekly and first heard David Bowie's Heathen album in my crappy little cassette player. The Tank, and all silver Ford Escorts, are an embodiment for everything that was right in my life at this time. 

The New Beau has become an embodiment for everything I am fighting in this relationship with Fox. His arrival caused an influx of great love within me for Fox and also great jealousy for him. I had asked Fox to give Matt a couple weeks rest, to focus on us (mostly me) and that I would be more comfortable in the future. Two days later, he was back in our lives. They would just "be friends," nothing sexual or emotional beyond that. But its not what I asked for and its not what Fox agreed to. Matt has become an embodiment, at no fault of his own, for my mistrust of Fox's attention to my feelings, of feeling like he is doing things behind my back, of wanting to just get through the first hump and being forced to share what I wasnt ready to share. 

And this is where it gets ugly. 

I asked Fox to remove Matt from his life completely. He agreed to, for me. Was it fair? Probably not. Was it right for me to even ask? Sure as hell was. At any time he could have said no. Do I feel like a tremendous ass? Yes - wouldn't you?

Its difficult to understand why we view things in our lives a certain way. All I know right now is that just thinking about it makes my stomach crawl. And just thinking about what Fox was willing to give up for me makes my head swim.