A Story that Had to be Told

I’ve wrestled with this one. 

Those of you who’ve known me for awhile will understand why this is a struggle. I created this persona, “Will” to give me an authentic space to tell my darkest desires and secrets. A place in the world to explore the fantasies I couldnt in my reality. An escape from a world where I live up to everyone’s expectations - Where I exist as the golden boy, the once perfect child, the man with flawless intregrity. The truth has always been, of course, that I am none of those things. I was a good kid. I became a good man, and I’m a successful professional. But my flaws are plentiful and robust, even if I’m the only one who obsesses about them. 

The point of all this, of course, is to admit something. To tell a story that has been sitting on my brain, in an all-consuming way at times. 

But I want you to know how I’ve struggled with it. How I’ve rationalized it in my head. How I have had moments of pure relief and euphoria during it, and because of it. How I’ve also then struggled with guilt, regret, and fear because of it. In the grand scheme of things, I don’t believe this story will be as shocking or as foundation-shaking for anyone other than me. Yet I still need to tell it. 

I worry about how you’ll perceive me. I assume some will lose what modicum of respect they had for me. I worry about how I’ll continue to perceive myself. Most of all, I worry about the one important person in my life, and how she’d feel if she ever found out. So yes, I’m clearly dealing with more guilt than I initially let myself believe. 

Now I’m just delaying. 

Let’s see - in the most simplest of ways, let me retitle this. It *is* a story that had to be told - if only to get it out of my mind. Maybe I need to process it all. Maybe I need someone, somewhere to understand who I am, just a little more. To reveal the thing that I just can’t to my people. 

The short version?

I got a blowjob at a massage parlor. 

And it was fucking amazing.