Psychic Assault

The day was bright and cheery...and I let my defenses down. All the mental barriers, the emotional chains that I normally wind tightly around myself...I thought it was a relatively safe day for me to relax, for once. You know? Just breathe in the air from the trees, feel the air cooling as the promised thunderstorm approached. Therein lay my mistake. I allowed my emotions to lull me into a false sense of security, and for that I was assaulted. I am disgusted with myself. My fighting style has degraded into nothing more than light taps instead of the forceful punches I had been taught. I was floored in seconds, but I remembered the steps to this dance. So I danced. Blood flowed freely, mostly mine, but that didn't matter. Adrenaline kept the pain at bay. That was hours ago, and now I am exhausted and I hurt all over. Still, I am skilled in the psychology of the human mind, and even as I returned the physical blows, I launched my own mental and emotional attacks. It worked, and we were swept off to have a 'man to man' talk. He didn't look hurt...if anything, he looked even more worked up. But see, a fighter must always always keep his cool. Fighting is an art, and one that requires more brains than people think. You have to continually be on the lookout for your opponent's weaknesses, for the slightest sign of weariness, then you zoom in for the kill with a simple right-hook or jab. You cannot afford to lose control, because then the fight is lost. Everyone fled from us, the two titans struggling for control. I kept my composure throughout the fight, even when I was unarmed, a serious disadvantage. When we were 'talking', I basically let loose with a flurry of words sharpened like daggers. Those who know me know my stings well enough to respect them when they have the misfortune to incur my wrath. I have been known to create rifts with only my words, and I do not even need to shout or use vulgarities. My forte lies in knowing where each opponent's weakness lies. I am proud, because I stuck by my guns, stood up for myself with the "I'm gay, so what?" speech. It's worth all the ouches on my body for that one moment when the realisation that I cannot be altered in any way begins to flower. We fought from 1pm all the way to 6pm, alternating between physical altercations, and verbal jabs on my part that surely must have hurt worse than any physical blow I could have given. Then at the door, as I was preparing to leave for the last time, unable to take their outdated views on my homosexuality, he caught my arm and held my gaze...and said something that cut through the burning fires in my heart. He said the three words that I've come to despise so much, the one that to me signifies weakness. "I love you." In that one instant, something in my heart just clicked. I swear my heart went pop. I don't know what possessed me to do what I did next, but I dropped my bags, stepped forward, and hugged him. Really hugged him, not just one arm around the neck nonsense. And he did the last thing I expected him to do. He cried in my arms, and I felt my heart break. It was bizzare. From six straight hours of arguing, fighting, testing each other's martial arts, he was now weeping in my arms. This man, whom I have never seen crying in the past 18 years, was now doing so in my arms. I can't even begin to identify what I was feeling then, as I held him, sobbing in my arms. The barriers, which had been building up over the years, just collapsed. As if tears were stronger than swords and guns, and I opened my heart to feel an emotion I never thought I could for this man. In that instant, I realised that no matter where I flew to in this world, I would only have one man to call "Father." Not to get into that whole confusing issue with my other dad, but I've lost that one. This man was crying in my arms, telling me how I had never hugged him since I was four. I remembered so clearly then how he had tried to shower me with love. His words echo eerily in my head. "You're always hiding. How far are you going to run? Where are you going to run to? We will always be here, you know." My heart broke just that little bit more, and I felt tears falling from my own eyes. Ever since I was a boy, I have never been able to tell anyone in person how I feel. Not face to face, not with our eyes and gazes locked. I can't. I can do so here, through impersonal mediums, but I have never said so much as an 'I love you' to anyone else. But as I held him close, and he cried, I whispered, "You're my dad. You always have been." That made him cry even more. "I thought I lost you. I prayed every day, and today you've finally come back. You hugged me." I didn't realise he'd seen that I didn't know how to acknowledge him. "When people ask me, 'how many children do you have?' I always say three. Three. You're my eldest son." I was trying not to cry and failing terribly. All I could do was stand there and hug him tightly, whispering, "I'm sorry." And then he said the words I know I will cherish for the rest of my life. He rubbed my back, and sobbed, "You will always be my son. I love you no matter who you are or what you do." I've gained my father at last. He was always there, in the shadows, unseen but felt. I realised I need to come to terms with my issues, why I can't accept emotion or love. But then, in his arms, I felt like a little boy again, hugging my father for all I was worth. His last words to me as I walked out into the rain, crying, were, "Come back again. Please." He wanted me to come home. And all this time I thought I was not welcome there. There's a flipside. In the midst of the battle, my mother stormed off and right now she's really pissed with me. I have a raging headache, my entire body is one solid ache, and I'm still crying three hours later. I have never felt this emotion before. Is this what children feel for their parents? I can't describe it. I feel closer to him than I have in years, and I have never cried for him. I'm not crying for me. I'm crying for this man who has never, in the past eighteen years, stopped trying to connect with me. And today, we made a major breakthrough. I don't know whether I'm crying because I'm sad and hurting, or because I'm elated that I've finally found a stable father figure to call my own. I may have lost my mother because of this. I don't know. I need sleep, and tomorrow I will be going over to sort through this mess that we've ignored for the past few years. I hurt all over. I have to sleep, and hopefully the wounds will close and fade. But each one is a step closer to that family I have always wanted, but never dared to wish for. It was a simple gesture...most people probably don't bat an eyelid at hugging someone else, or being hugged. But for my father and I, it might just have changed our world.