09.24.21
“It’s currently 11PM EST, September 23rd in Alexandria, Virginia and I suddenly got the urge or rush to write for the first time in what seems forever—more so to update you all on what’s been going for the past nine months, give or take. Some may know, some may kind of know and some of you all have no damn idea. I’m normally not a proponent of just slamming down my laptop and hammering away but I believe this is justified here. It’s been needed. It’s been wanted. And you all deserve the purest form of Corliss I can physically provide. I’m about to be brutally honest, informing and most importantly a cook. However this will be rather a dishing out than a dishing in. Here we go.”
If the above looks familiar, it’s because you’ve seen it before. It’s the first paragraph to my Left Hand post that kicked off my blog’s resurgence. I thought it would be the most poetic way to return to these godawful intrusive thoughts. Nevertheless, tomorrow is a celebration of sorts: it marks one year since I injured my hand in that freakish incident. Everyone, and I mean everyone, wanted me to write about my thoughts 12-months later and honestly…I don’t have many (lol).
I spent this entire summer living by going to Miami, Los Angeles and even The Hamptons amongst other destinations. It wasn’t even an escape really. It was just to get back the time that this hand took from me (This hand made me miss out on a destination wedding in NEW ORLEANS). It felt almost like a tour of sorts to berate the curse—the curse I thought this hand had given me. It was a triumphant march of freedom, lust and love. I won the battle of depression and made sure to parade the severed head of it around the entire country. And I did just that. You thought this was going to be a sob story? Clearly you all don’t know I’m cooking happiness amongst other things.
BUT, September has been an entire month of reflection. I’m reminded of the purposeless arguments me and my ex-lover had that led to me even flying to Boston that week. I’m reminded of the incident (obviously). I’m reminded of the emotional and physical pain. I’m reminded of what I put her through. The whole incident still just feels so avoidable, but this version of Corliss will never know the alternate. I have to live with the ramifications of my decision albeit good intentions. It brings me tears to write this because I’ve overcome so much these last 12 months—whether it’s the break-up, physical recovery, loneliness or deep depression. It’s been such a journey, and I’m proud to be where I am. I’ve accomplished so much through TikTok and this blog in a small amount of time. I can only go up from here. I am only a man, but I am no longer a broken one. I know I’ve healed the best way I could with an amazing support group of family, coworkers, friends and lovers. I’m thankful. Hopefully we won’t have any injuries this September 24th.
I thought I’d just post a photo of myself from this summer to cheer you all up. Enjoy!
