I escaped the cage and found freedom from the wood pellets and stale feeder food. Maybe certain people tried to look for me; maybe they didn't. I didn't care. I was a hamster with a plan. I came to a fork, took the road less traveled and began running like my life depended on it (and hey, maybe it did).
My parent's divorce helped me realize that love cannot be forced, and that you can never settle if what you want is happiness. Love is not easy, but it should always be unconditional and truthful, respectful and gentle. It didn't matter what people thought of us. What mattered was being at peace with who we were.
I used to be intimidated by people who wrote about sex, even long after I started writing about it myself. The irony, of course, is that people now think the same thing about me. That because I write about sex, I must be particularly sexual. To which my internal response is: "No. You don't get me at all."
I hated the anger I felt towards him, hated the way I treated him in his moments of weakness. I hated the doctors that gave him the opiates that eventually took over his life, and I hated the disease that robbed me of the father that had taught me to play baseball and make the best ice cream sundaes in the world.
In a profound sense, vulnerability is the path to self-reflection. It is at the moment you become emotionally honest that you are more conscious of listening and understanding. Once your suit of armor has been removed, you can bring choice, strength and opportunity to the stressors in life. So take a leap of faith and embrace the positive aspects of learning to be vulnerable.