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Ever since Wilby's started responding less and less to me, it feels like my world is caving in. Yes, I know he's on a muster, but he's still at the house every morning and night. He's not totally ghosting me, but I can feel him drifting away.
Which…in all fairness, what do I expect? How much longer could we keep up daily text messages and video calls? People move on, right? That's just life.
Except, I've never been able to do that. Move on.
Exhibit A: my mom's ashes. It took me almost two decades to scatter them.
And now Exhibit B: Wilby.
Ever since I've been back, I've fallen into a pit of anxiety mixed with mild depression. Outside of work and absolutely essential obligations, I've been sinking deeper and deeper into blackness.
I look over at Dad and Brant, and I can sense their hesitancy. Their MO with me has always been to give me space. Whenever I'm pushed, I clam up and shut down.
But I'm not the same person I used to be. My time in Australia may have been short, but like I messaged Wilby, it did fundamentally change me.
I can't expect these guys to know any of that…unless I open up to them.
I breathe in slowly through my nose. "I, uh, may have understated how much I like Wilby."
They exchange a knowing look.
"Well, duh," Brant says with a light smile. "It's obvious you've fallen harder for him than I've ever seen you fall for anyone."
"I have. But it's more than what I've told you guys about."
"Take your time, son. We're not going to push you."
"Yeah. About that. I think… I think it's okay if you push me a little harder. I want to open up more. It hasn't always been easy for me, but I'm willing to try. I want to live more in the moment. Actually, I just want to live more. Period."
"That's…awesome," Brant says, nodding slowly.
A smile spreads across Dad's face. "It really is, Col."
"And part of what I want to share with you is about Wilby…"
I tell them the whole story, right from the very beginning. They knew bits and pieces, but I want to make sure they grasp how big this is. That while, yes, it may have started off with an almost one-night stand, it quickly became something much deeper. Something that ended up fundamentally changing who I am. I'm still me, of course, and it's not like being with Wilby miraculously cured my anxiety or made me hugely lessuptight and cranky. Those things will always be with me, but it pushed them to the background and allowed other aspects of my personality to emerge.
Like being a guy who takes chances.
Lives in the moment.
Lets go.
Makes some noise during sex.
Sings karaoke in front of a packed crowd.
Releases things from his past.
Obviously, since I'm talking to Brantandmy dad, I skip over the sexcapades. No reason for my old man to know any of that, just like he and Brant keep that stuff hidden from me…for the most part.
"I've changed so much. I still medicated myself, but flying back from Australia was nowhere near as bad as flying to Australia," I tell them. "It was a real full-circle moment for me. I'm not talking about some miracle cure here. I still have anxiety. I will most likely have it for the rest of my life. But it's sometimes hard to place where the anxiety comes from."
"What do you mean, son?"
"Well, sometimes I can't tell if the anxiety is coming from within me, or if it's based on what's going on around me and in my life. But flyingtoAustralia and flyingfromAustralia is a neat and clean comparison. Like apples to apples. And when I reflect on it, I can see that I went from being an anxious, overworked, overwhelmed, and more miserable than I realized apple to an apple that had been opened up and, not fixed entirely, but…healed."
I nod my head. "That's actually a really good word to describe it.Healed. I feel like my time in Australia has helped me to reflect on who I am and certain parts of my life, and that's shifted something."
