Love and Incest...

The past couple nights, lying awake at two a.m., unpleasant yet truthful thoughts that need telling. I have to say. Even though the words be bitter, full of anxiety and resisting to the max. I need to free my soul.

I loved my father.

As a child wants love, to be loved by their parents no matter how hideous the adults behavior, I loved my dad. He was, for about twenty years, my best friend, confidante, trusted...the only one I could talk to. We understood each other. I met his needs in every way...and in some ways...he met mine. It seems so Wrong to think or say. I don't approve of his behavior...but I understand it...a bit..from this very great distance, on the film, in the mirror that was always in the room, as I shine a bright, glowing light into that darkness.

Incest was really the only time anyone touched me...that anyone ever wanted to touch me. For a child with such a high need fr physical contact...there were times I didn't protest much. When you don't even feel real, without human contact, one becomes very desperate for attention and intimacy...Any contact, Any intimacy.....how can I impress the desperate need for touch?

I was often, mostly so cold, distant, drifting off into space, unnoticeable, unremarkable, out of touch and off the radar. No one knew, acknowledged my existence, I matter to no one, but I was real with my father. I was special to him...for gods sake he was the only person who would e near me, by choice!! Can you fucking hear me Now? Can you understand the depth and breadth. My depravity?

My god, I was so alone, tightly wound within my self and my autism. Fair say, I was ninety percent "not there" and off in my own little world because of the constant bombardment of confusion, anxiety and fear. I was lost Onto my self. I was lost onto the outside.

Most days I felt like I was poison and everyone was afraid to touch me...the way they seemed to avoid me so. I just wanted someone to hold me.....I was so needy..no, I just had basic needs that were unmet. Maybe my needs were higher than most...I don't know.

My dad, again, was the only one who wanted to spend time alone with me. He was the only one who would listen. I didn't feel like a pyrrha when I was with him.

He was the first person I ever loved. He was the first person that ever loved me. I get that the whole incestuous liaison was wrong, illegal and highly immoral. I fully understand and comprehendo. My next task, after this reveal, is to separate the immoral from the right...to somehow take apart the relationship with him...it is all a bundle of confusion with right, needs, attention, good love, bad love...well, not really love but abuse and rape, wrong and such. Arrrgh.

I loved my dad for good, right loving me...for pure, clean, healthy physical contact, affection and listening,sharing.

I don't like my dad for the incest, sexual encounters, physical abuse, physical neglect and immoral behavior.

Damn, part of me is grateful for him, and part of me hates him and wants to beat the shit out of him.

I'm just thinking out loud...trying to figure it all out....