Harlan Foster(28) Harlan Foster Very Good Company Log in to become a member of Harlan Foster's Fan Club!
I've started this a hundred times or more, only to destroy my work, not wanting anyone else to know the terrible secret inside me. In public, I am transparent to a point. Anyone can see into' me but not through me. Yet, they know who I am and what I'm about. There are two groups of people with whom I associate. The first group, the people I see on a daily basis; these people are comfortable with me. They know and respect me for who I am and what I do. We can engage each other in deep and, oftentimes, intimate conversation. Then, a second group, are others who see me once in a while. These don't really care if they can see into me or not; but they are also comfortable with me. I may see them once or twice a week in a professional setting. I teach this other, more distant group of people, a foreign language. I am a writer; sometimes I am contracted by this second group to write something for a company and my work is appreciated by those who sought my expertise. The uniqueness of expressing myself on paper, whether for me, about me or any other subject, such as writing an introduction for an employee, writing descriptions on a brochure, or a curriculum vitae for a professional, or editing what someone else has written.
I also write stories; fiction based on my personal experiences in life. I have also used creative arrangements of words to reveal as much as I know and have discovered about what I consider to be the political enemies of the United States. I write poetry but I have never written about something that is cutting and eating its way out of me; I've never told anyone what has been trying to surface for years-yea, decades; something that wants to be heard, recognized and loosed. I have never given in to this monster: day after day I keep it hidden from the world of people, from the society in which I live, from the people with whom I associateleaving it to hide deep within me. I have lived in one body as two different people; much like the mythical Jekyll and Hyde of old England, although the other part of me is not a danger as was Mr. Hyde. But now, I am faced with some very difficult decisions and I realize I must finally deal with this demon. I am at a crossroad in my life.
Before I enter into the revelation of what I consider to be my most guarded secret, I want it understood that is not the confession of serial killer or rapist. I am not a kidnapper nor a pedophile. I do not intend to go on a shooting spree. This is not a plea for advice nor a request for help. I am not a threat to society, nor to anyone around me; only to myself and perhaps the emotional stability of those closest to me. That said, I shall embark with a few facts to set the stage for a rather emotional revelation. It will be necessary for you to know what may seem like some rather mundane facts, but please, bear with me so these facts may be presented. Knowing them will be important as you continue to read.
In the three parts of the personality, the ego' is defined, thus: "In psychoanalytic theory, the ego is the portion of the psyche experienced as the "self" or "I." It is the part that remembers, evaluates, plans, and in other ways is responsive to and acts in the surrounding physical and social world."
There is also the "superego," that part of the human which acts as the conscience of the human ." And, of course, there is the third member of this triad, the "id." Take a look at this definition below:
The id is defined, thus: " In Freudian psychoanalytic theory, the id is one of the three aspects of the human personality, along with the ego and superego . The id is the source of instinctual impulses such as sex and aggression as well as primitive needs that exist at birth. It is entirely non-rational and functions according to the pleasure-pain principle, seeking immediate fulfillment of its impulses whenever possible."
In other words, there is, at any given time in the life of any of us, a war going on inside. Where these three members of the personality triad dwell in the human frame, I don't know. But I believe they all have offices in our brains. I don't believe they get together for lunch or drinks after work, because the id' is not on the list of accepted personalities at the local eatery or pub. The ego' and superego' are always receiving nasty messages from the id' and the ego' and superego' try to assuage the id but the impulse and aggression of the id' drive the ego' and superego' away. I suppose it becomes a rather embarrassing incident for the two egos.
I hope this introduction has given you some idea of the three components that comprise each human personality. It may be that there are some who disagree with Dr. Freud and don't accept his theories of the personality. That's okay by me. If that be the case, this argument is not for you. But in order to make sense of this peculiar late model odyssey, we need a starting point; that point is the three previously mentioned components of the personality. It is necessary for you to know from where the monster in me emanates, for you to appreciate the magnitude of the problem I face every time I look in the mirror.
I am married to a most wonderful woman. She is incredibly intelligent and very, very smart. She teaches school in an atmosphere very much like what existed in East Los Angeles in 1965. The children in her junior high and high school classes are a mix of the most serene and some of the deadliest. Some of these students are known drug dealers in the small city where we live, in the interior of the state of Sao Paulo in Brazil. The only reason they are still in school is a federal law that states, "children under the age of sixteen will attend school." Yes, some of the drug dealers in this city are fourteen and fifteen years old. They refuse to acknowledge authority. But for some reason, they respect my wife, a woman almost in her mid-thirties, who stands barely five feet tall and is able to confront these criminals and keep them in their seats for class. If they choose not to learn anything, at least they keep quiet so others may learn. This little woman has just recently completed her Master's degree in Education at a London University. She is now, already toying with the idea of obtaining her Ph.D. in Education.
She cooks; she is incredible in the kitchen. Her repertoire of dishes, Brazilian and American, is endless. Why cook both kinds of foods? Because both cultures dwell under the same roof. There is an endless list of accolades that I could go on and tell you about this woman, who is my wife. There is only one quality she doesn't have for which I yearn, yea, crave, long for, desire more than anything between us; more than anything she has to her credit. It is the one thing that burns in me, kindling the flame I cannot crush; a flame that burns no matter what I do to quench it. Herein lies what I consider to be the most carefully guarded secret of my entire life. I have no sexual desire for my wife. I love her, care for her, even make love to her. But I have no sexual desire for her. Difficult to understand?
She can act sexy, behave sensuously, try to entice me with sexual innuendos, but there is nothing in me that desires her. I have no erogenous zones in my body, or anything that responds to her touch. I simply am not sexually drawn or attracted to her, at all. I can hold her in my arms, kiss her lips and know that inside me a flame of love burns for her. But it ends there. And the crux of my dilemma is that I have inside the flaming, raging desire to want to lust after her. But if I cannot lust after her, then what? The id, my aggressive lust that is forever alive and awake within me will eventually find someone else for whom I can desire. Does this mean that I am forever lusting after every sexually attractive woman I see on the streets of the Brazilian city in which I live? I think not. I have made a conscious choice not to give in to that desire. That would be taking the easy way out; it would be considered the simple solution for a very complex problem: just find someone else to lust after. That's what a lust-a-holic would do. I am NOT a lust-a-holic. I live with a strong, burning desire to lust after my wife; a desire that after almost seven years remains unfulfilled; unsatisfied and unending.
I lie on the bed, whether she is there beside me or not, imagining how it would be to feel the insatiable desire to touch the woman to whom I am married; to feel the soft, tenderness of her skin beneath my eager and often trembling hands; to feel the arousal of sexual desire expressed in the pulsing beat of blood in my face, running to the aching muscles of my feet and to communicate that want, that need, that fiery passion to her, that the two of us will meet in the flaming coals and consume each other. It is an unmet dream; a misplaced desire; an unfulfilled passion within me that crumbles like the unwanted advertisements found in your mailbox. And this gross disappointment forces me to acknowledge the truth of the sad state of my marital affairs. Then it pushes me into a fitful sleep that never brings rest, only greater fatigue.
There it is, Folks, for all the world to see. I have laid bare my soul; placed my head on the chopping block and sent out invitations for all the axe-men to come and participate in my execution. I am a sinner. My sin haunts me day and night, whether alone or in the company of anyone, anywhere I am tormented and hounded, continuously. I am constantly reminded by the beautiful and desirable women of this city that my desire CAN be fulfilled. In my present circumstance, the option of another woman is not possible (within the confines of my knowledge and imagination).
Some of you may be thinking, even now, that the easiest thing to do is divorce this woman and find a woman whom I can desire. Wrong . The vows I have taken were made in all seriousness, not to be squandered or wasted on such ideas as divorce. There is much more to the "I do, forever" said in this case. It is not so simple to change my mind and say, "I don't, anymore." There is God, responsibility, accountability, and eternity to consider. If there is a solution to my dilemma, I have yet to find it. I am at a crossroad and know not which way to go.
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