CAUGHT IN A BATTLE
A man struggles to clear his mind of images that flip through like a spinning Rolodex, images that are both welcomed and despised in the same instant. In a culture where parading of sexual and sensual images is the norm and exposure to pornography typically occurs between eleven and thirteen years of age, he surrenders.
At a time when infidelity is the comical basis of most popular entertainment, a man sweeps up the ashes that are left after the firestorm of real-world consequences ravages his marriage. The pain which he has so fervently tried to relieve through fantasy and action has become his legacy to his children.
The boy sexually abused at eight lives on in a man now forty years older, unable to mature past the theft of his innocence. The man is confused by his own immature reaction to stresses that seem virtually unnoticed by most. Lacking the focus to reach any goal set before him, he long ago gave up any dream of a meaningful life. There is no wife. There are no children. Comforting the little boy inside has become life's only purpose.
A man pleasures himself and, if only for a few precious moments, the endless loop of critical voices is muted, the tensions evaporate. He knows the shame will come, but he can quiet that again, too.
"I wasn't hurting anyone," whimpers a man as he's abruptled led from the cubical he'd devoted half his life to. "Please don't tell my wife."
Why does a man wait for the firestorm before choosing to change?
Where does the hope for change lie? Is there such a thing as hope? These men see none.
Where does a man find the courage to look at the ugliness inside, the blackness that seems to envelope his soul? How does he look before the ugliness is exposed to his wife, his children, the world?
Where does a man turn when he is truly ready to reject the passivity that has defined him and battle for changes in his life?
