I think I still have a heart.

At 31, I've done a lot.

A lot of good, a lot of bad, and some shit that was just pure fucking evil.

I've been through a lot. A whole hell of a lot. I've seen things and been through more than most men should to at my age. Things that harden you. Change you. Sometimes for the better, though often for the worst. When you've lived a life as hellacious as the one I've been in for over 31 years, some habits die hard. Some never die. Others you have to try like hell to fix yourself. I lost something last June 13. Something that was more dear to me than I'd ever known. How did I know? Because I had never experienced it. It was love.

After 30 years on this Earth, I finally found love with a great guy named Ben. It was the most precious feeling in the world, and a feeling I'd never felt before. Sure, I was engaged before and said "The L Word" before, but this was different. Some incredible human connection that was far more than just a pretty face or sex. My soul felt warm. I could relax. I could be me. I could breath. It was so amazing until it started to unravel...

and I was the culprit.

Those old habits I was talking about die hard. Real fucking hard. You see, while I was in the middle of the best thing that ever happened to me, I still had to keep one eye open. Why? Being conditioned from the time you're a child that "right now" won't be here tomorrow. You spend you're whole life waiting on the other shoe to drop. Scared to death that it's going to change in a New York minute. In my life, it has. Parents leave. Parents move. The next thing you know, you're 18 and pushed out into society to fend for yourself. So conditioned to this "life" that you don't let anyone in even when it's time, and you know it's real.

I fucked up.
I royally fucked up.
Bad.

I'm sorry.
I truly am sorry.
From the bottom of my heart I still have.
I still have a heart.

I know I can be a prick. I often am. I spend my days being this guy that I'm really not. It's this facade placed in a glass case that I can't break out of because I'm just too goddamned scared to let anyone in. Do you have any idea how it feels to be trapped inside yourself? I sure as hell hope you don't. It's a awful feeling. Fucking terrible. I've spent time in therapy to get past it. I've changed. Finally, for the better. But at the end of the day, I'm still alone. Still without the one thing I want and cherish the most. Him. When I broke my leg, I secretly hoped he would find out and come see me. Call or something. Fucking something. I can't express in words how much it hurt my soul and my heart to be in a hospital alone. Knowing that if something worse had happened, I wouldn't have anyone there to make those decisions. Not having him there to hold my hand and assure me it would be ok. Being alone sucks. I did it to myself. Unintentionally.

It's like a self-inflicted gunshot wound without the bullet. You can't see the pain but it's real. Very real. I can honestly say, this is the only time in my life I've been in love. I never thought I would know what if felt like. A taste of love is a drug stronger than heroin, a good bottle of bourbon, or the smell of man. This is the only instance of love I've known or felt other than my grandparents. They're a hard act to follow. Very hard.. The only people that have truly loved me unconditionally since the day I was born. They brought me home from the hospital. My mother wouldn't have been there if she didn't need the ride. Of course, my father wasn't.

How do you fix something that's been broken for over a year?
How do you get back the one you truly love?
How do you right a wrong?
How do you show someone you've changed...for the better without looking like a total pussy?
How do you show you can have a sensitive side and aren't always a hard-nosed prick?

I don't know what to do but, I know what I want. I want Ben. I want things to be normal and how they should be. Is that too much to ask?