It took love and a beautiful transsexual-in-transition woman to make it happen.

I’m talking control.
This control thing is a strange bird.  I liked having it but releasing it is infinitely better for me.
And that’s not been the easiest thing.

Looking back, all of our shared experiences were actively growing baby steps that ultimately enabled me to simply let go, a realization revealed many, many months after the fact and only upon sober reflection.

I now understand that our adventures, though seemingly 100% spontaneous, had a deliberate quality to them.  She purposely led me on a sometimes dark and mysterious path that forced me to let the fuck go of rigidly held expectations and change my mental processing.  Of course we got absolutely shit-up-a-creek lost at moments but always managed to find our way back.

Control was lost, trust gained.

That trust proved absolutely priceless when we were completely devastated by unexpected death, freshly flown too many damn miles to get back to grieve on-site.  So we quietly sat, side-by-side on bar stools in a strange city, shattered on the inside and shed silent tears in our drinks, absolutely heartbroken.

Shared grief strengthened trust and the presence of control was significantly diminishing from my life, which led to what has been my ultimate letting go experience…of him.

I decided to just be so he could as well.

Relief.

I stopped fighting her transition, freaking out, questioning an ‘us’ and…
acceptance happened.  

Quietude.
It’s not overrated.