Last Tuesday I didn't leave work until 4:30 and when I got to the elevator I was reminded of why I always tried to leave earlier, because Allison was waiting on the next one with Terry, another woman from my old department. Terry, struck up a conversation with me.
"So...have you heard from the school, yet?"
"No, my appointment with financial aid is on Thursday. That's when I'll know if I can attend in March."
"Wait, you don't know if you're going yet? Isn't your last day on Friday?"
"Haha, yeah."
"What are you going to do if it falls through?"
"I'm moving to Chattanooga."
"What's in Chattanooga?"
This is when the elevator arrived and the doors opened. The three of us walked inside and stood in place. As the doors were shutting I answered her question. "My best friend, who also happens to be the love of my life."
Allison immediately stared at the ground. I didn't say it so eagerly to upset her; the thought of being with Ana just makes me so excited I can barely contain myself sometimes.
"What about school?"
"I had decided there were two things I want in life: to be with her and going to film school. This way I get to work on us first and then go to school in September."
We arrive on the first floor and the doors open again to release us.
"Well, good luck." Terry told me before we exited.
"Thanks." Then I turned to face Allison, "Can we talk?"
"Yeah...sure." She was caught off guard, but her response also contained an echo of happiness. I can't even remember the last time the thought of conversing with me gave her voice that inflection.
She walked beside me as we made our way through the lobby, staring at me the entire time. I kept my gaze straight ahead and didn't say a word until I held the door for her and we were both outside.
"Ok. So, Friday is going to be my last day."
"Oh..." She trailed off, again taken aback. Then she looked down, blinked once and said, "Wow."
"Yeah. I just wanted to tell you that even though things between you and I ended badly, I'm happy for every second we ever spent together. They shaped me into the person I've become and for that I'm thankful. I also want you to know that I have no regrets and I hope you don't either."
The entire time I was speaking she had this sadness to her eyes and she'd bring both of her arms up slightly as if considering a hug, hesitate and then place them back down by her sides.
"I don't have any regrets. I just wish we could've stayed friends."
"I don't, that would've been a terrible idea. Sometimes, we just have to learn to appreciate the times we had, instead of focusing on those we didn't."
She nodded, then looked at me quizzically. "Wait...where are you going?"
"Well, right now is still kinda up in the air, but ultimately I'm going to film school in California."
"So you're going for your dream." She said through a melancholy smile.
"Yeah."
"Good for you."
"Thank you. Goodbye, Allison. I'm glad to have known you when I did."
Her lip quivered and she threw her arms around my shoulders. "Goodbye." She whispered in my ear.
"Take care of yourself." I whispered back into hers.
Then I broke the embrace and pulled out my phone to check the text from Ana which had been burning a hole in my pocket since right before I got onto the elevator. I didn't look back once as I marked the end of this chapter and the beginning of the next.
Showing posts with label Progress. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Progress. Show all posts
Here's what I think
For the most part, there are two types of people in this world. There
are those who refuse to acknowledge the darkness and others who become
swallowed by it.
The first group will spend their whole lives running away from their
pain, but it always finds them because they never give themselves the
chance to learn from past mistakes.
The second instead focuses only on their loss and sadness. It's
impossible to enjoy the present or look forward to the future when you
spend every waking hour cursing your past.
I don't get along very well with either of these groups. The former
drops me when I need them the most and the latter is too wrapped up in
themselves to be of use to anyone else.
What makes us different is, while we both started out in one of these
groups, we've evolved beyond them. We both see the darkness in each
other and our selves and, while we do acknowledge them, we don't allow
it to consume us. We can see the beauty in the pain, because we
realize it's integral to learning who we are and become better people
as a result.
I think this is also the reason we compliment each other so well.
Whenever either of us starts to slip, the other is able to listen AND
understand.
are those who refuse to acknowledge the darkness and others who become
swallowed by it.
The first group will spend their whole lives running away from their
pain, but it always finds them because they never give themselves the
chance to learn from past mistakes.
The second instead focuses only on their loss and sadness. It's
impossible to enjoy the present or look forward to the future when you
spend every waking hour cursing your past.
I don't get along very well with either of these groups. The former
drops me when I need them the most and the latter is too wrapped up in
themselves to be of use to anyone else.
What makes us different is, while we both started out in one of these
groups, we've evolved beyond them. We both see the darkness in each
other and our selves and, while we do acknowledge them, we don't allow
it to consume us. We can see the beauty in the pain, because we
realize it's integral to learning who we are and become better people
as a result.
I think this is also the reason we compliment each other so well.
Whenever either of us starts to slip, the other is able to listen AND
understand.
With that, I bid thee Goodnight.
In less than two days I'll be in California. My job is sending me there so I can take a Multi-media class and it's a very big deal. I've never done anything like this before and it makes me nervous.
I've seen enough "road trip" flicks to know that any time you're completely out there on your own Murphy's Law can and will fuck your shit up. But that's the worrier in me and I've barely slept all week. When this happens, the defenses keeping some of my lesser traits at bay are weakened.
My life has been a roller coaster since July and I'm completely spent. I think this will be good for me. Lately my life has become routine. It's a routine that works for me, don't get me wrong, but every once in awhile it's good to shake things up a bit.
Now, at last...
sleep...
I've seen enough "road trip" flicks to know that any time you're completely out there on your own Murphy's Law can and will fuck your shit up. But that's the worrier in me and I've barely slept all week. When this happens, the defenses keeping some of my lesser traits at bay are weakened.
My life has been a roller coaster since July and I'm completely spent. I think this will be good for me. Lately my life has become routine. It's a routine that works for me, don't get me wrong, but every once in awhile it's good to shake things up a bit.
Now, at last...
sleep...
"Learning how to smile"
I feel different now. It's almost like the last piece of the puzzle has slid into place. When I walk, there's this swagger to it and my head is held high. The smiles gracing my face lately are no longer forced and are often there without me realizing. When I sit down to write, the words come easier and are about different topics than heartache and misery. Oh, I still write them and I always will, but they're nowhere near as prevalent. There have been several other good things, too.
I drove my big sister home from work today in my new car. Every time she looked at me she beamed with pride. Before I dropped her off she told me, "it's so nice I have a brother I can count on!" Long story, not mine to tell, but it was then my turn to beam.
I'm getting some really exciting projects at work, even begun taking business trips. (Lafayette next week, maybe California at the end of the month) I've got an office and a vast assortment of other blessings. Sometimes when I'm at my desk it all hits me and I can't believe how much has changed in the (almost) four years I've been there. I mean, this is where it all happened.
I went over to my friend, Alex's, house a little while ago. I was talking to him and his cousin about hip-hop. (this made me ecstatic because I was able to keep up) Eventually he mentioned to his cousin that I was a writer and I handed him a card. They asked me questions about the site and I told them only about its features and the mission statement. Alex said he wanted to get back into music and I told him to go for it in a very heartfelt speech I wish I could remember. Before I left his cousin asked me what kind of writing I do and I performed "Bi-polar" for him. It doesn't matter how many people are in the audience, as long as you have one person feeling what you're saying, then you had a good show.
I understand there's a lot of bad in the world, God knows I've done my fair share of focusing on it, but I've learned that in order for your mind to properly function you need to learn to see the good as well. So, what about you? What's made you smile recently?
I drove my big sister home from work today in my new car. Every time she looked at me she beamed with pride. Before I dropped her off she told me, "it's so nice I have a brother I can count on!" Long story, not mine to tell, but it was then my turn to beam.
I'm getting some really exciting projects at work, even begun taking business trips. (Lafayette next week, maybe California at the end of the month) I've got an office and a vast assortment of other blessings. Sometimes when I'm at my desk it all hits me and I can't believe how much has changed in the (almost) four years I've been there. I mean, this is where it all happened.
I went over to my friend, Alex's, house a little while ago. I was talking to him and his cousin about hip-hop. (this made me ecstatic because I was able to keep up) Eventually he mentioned to his cousin that I was a writer and I handed him a card. They asked me questions about the site and I told them only about its features and the mission statement. Alex said he wanted to get back into music and I told him to go for it in a very heartfelt speech I wish I could remember. Before I left his cousin asked me what kind of writing I do and I performed "Bi-polar" for him. It doesn't matter how many people are in the audience, as long as you have one person feeling what you're saying, then you had a good show.
I understand there's a lot of bad in the world, God knows I've done my fair share of focusing on it, but I've learned that in order for your mind to properly function you need to learn to see the good as well. So, what about you? What's made you smile recently?
Life isn't fair...
It's a phrase I've heard and spoke my entire life. It's usually been done during those really dire times where I wanted to rip my heart from my chest and squeeze out its final beat.
See, as long as I can remember, I've only focused on the really heinous shit that happened to me. I became comfortable playing the victim and "life isn't fair" became my mantra.
But I don't want to be that way anymore. It doesn't get you anywhere. Of course life is going to suck if all you look at is the sucky parts. It's all about your outlook. If you can learn to see past all the negativity, you'll see how much the world has to offer once you stop holding yourself back.
Life is fair, you just have to grow up and learn to take the bad with the good.
See, as long as I can remember, I've only focused on the really heinous shit that happened to me. I became comfortable playing the victim and "life isn't fair" became my mantra.
But I don't want to be that way anymore. It doesn't get you anywhere. Of course life is going to suck if all you look at is the sucky parts. It's all about your outlook. If you can learn to see past all the negativity, you'll see how much the world has to offer once you stop holding yourself back.
Life is fair, you just have to grow up and learn to take the bad with the good.
I learned something today.
It's crazy how you can see someone almost every day for over a year and never really get to know them. I realized today that I still had a lot to learn about my big sister.
See, at work, I take my smoke breaks with her. Now this might not seem like a big deal to you pantywaist non-smokers, but let me tell you something, there isn't another bond on earth that can compare with the ones you forge while on smoke breaks. Because when you're hunkered down in a cramped stairwell, trying to block out the rain so you can inhale every last drag before you have to go back to work where the next sweet puff of relief is an agonizing two hours away you can't walk leave that stairwell without feeling closer.
But tonight I sat down with her outside the office where we didn't have to worry about who may hear. For the first time in over a year...I just listened to her. I had the privilege of hearing in detail things which had only been hinted on previously before. I feel like I got to know my big sister much better.
It also made me think about all the other people in my life I consider myself close to? We're all so wrapped up in ourselves and our own lives that we never take the time to listen to stories about the lives of others. You have no idea what kind of events are transpiring around you at all times. It has shown me that none of us are really all that different. We've all got problems and woes, so it doesn't make you special. It makes you just like everyone else.
So please, do yourself and everyone else a favor and shut the fuck up for just one day.
You might be surprised what you discover.
See, at work, I take my smoke breaks with her. Now this might not seem like a big deal to you pantywaist non-smokers, but let me tell you something, there isn't another bond on earth that can compare with the ones you forge while on smoke breaks. Because when you're hunkered down in a cramped stairwell, trying to block out the rain so you can inhale every last drag before you have to go back to work where the next sweet puff of relief is an agonizing two hours away you can't walk leave that stairwell without feeling closer.
But tonight I sat down with her outside the office where we didn't have to worry about who may hear. For the first time in over a year...I just listened to her. I had the privilege of hearing in detail things which had only been hinted on previously before. I feel like I got to know my big sister much better.
It also made me think about all the other people in my life I consider myself close to? We're all so wrapped up in ourselves and our own lives that we never take the time to listen to stories about the lives of others. You have no idea what kind of events are transpiring around you at all times. It has shown me that none of us are really all that different. We've all got problems and woes, so it doesn't make you special. It makes you just like everyone else.
So please, do yourself and everyone else a favor and shut the fuck up for just one day.
You might be surprised what you discover.
Small Talk
I try not to live in the past, honest to god, I really don't wanna be like that anymore.
But sometimes...
I wonder what my life would be like if I had done just a few things differently. What if I had never gotten on that plane, preventing me from making that drunken mistake? What if I hadn't spent my entire senior year fucking off, thus allowing me to go to college? What if I had said "no"?
It's a dangerous game to play. No matter which imaginary road you go down, it's empty and it distracts you from what you have.
You see, if I had actually gone down one of those roads...I know what I'd have missed and, let me tell you, it's a hell of a lot.
So, me?
Nah...I have no regrets.
But sometimes...
I wonder what my life would be like if I had done just a few things differently. What if I had never gotten on that plane, preventing me from making that drunken mistake? What if I hadn't spent my entire senior year fucking off, thus allowing me to go to college? What if I had said "no"?
It's a dangerous game to play. No matter which imaginary road you go down, it's empty and it distracts you from what you have.
You see, if I had actually gone down one of those roads...I know what I'd have missed and, let me tell you, it's a hell of a lot.
So, me?
Nah...I have no regrets.
My Brand New Coat
More than anything, I want an X-Box 360.
A couple of weeks ago, my adopted big sister from work, Pat, called me over to her place so she could give me my Christmas present. She told me to sit down and I obliged. She then looked me dead in the eyes and said,
"Now, I'm your big sister, so I know what you want and I know what you need. Now, I know you want one of those MP360s, or whatever, but Pat can't afford that." God, I love her. "And your car's heater doesn't work, so you NEED something warm."
She goes into the back and returns with a Macy's garment bag. I gaze at it in confusion as she places it in my hands.
"Merry Christmas, little brother."
I slowly peel the bag from the hanger to reveal a long, black, wool overcoat. It was now the finest thing I've ever owned.
The next day I wore a nice shirt and tie to really show it off at work. Not once on the way there did my teeth chatter. I was now able to brave to cold comfortably. Julie gave me some black leather gloves and Melinda gave me a very nice scarf. Everyone else at work gave me a family where caring and kindness always worked both ways. Dunsy gave me a Deadpool shirt and Deadpool kicks fucking ass.
The newfound confidence I had found followed me to my life on stage at Tucker's Blues. Dianne, the club owner and all around artistic sweetheart gave me two things I had always wanted; support and an opportunity.
My father took me out one afternoon and bought me a suit jacket and two shirts. He gave me something more important, though, he gave me an amazing memory of just him and me. I know had something to work towards.
My mom gave me some cash, with implicit instructions to, "Spend it on MYSELF this time." Her's has always meant just as much, I just never realized it before now.
On the sixteenth, a co-worker I really liked passed away. It hit me because it was so unexpected. I wrote a letter to her family, telling them how much she met to me and expressing sympathy for their loss. I found out later it was read at the funeral. In some small way, I was able to give a small comfort to those in need.
All of these things are what Christmas is all about for me.
It serves as the perfect ending to an awesome year, one that offers hope instead of prolonged, self induced misery. I've gotten more than I ever thought possible. It's the best Christmas I've ever had and the day itself is still three days away. And it all started, with a brand new coat from my big sister.
A couple of weeks ago, my adopted big sister from work, Pat, called me over to her place so she could give me my Christmas present. She told me to sit down and I obliged. She then looked me dead in the eyes and said,
"Now, I'm your big sister, so I know what you want and I know what you need. Now, I know you want one of those MP360s, or whatever, but Pat can't afford that." God, I love her. "And your car's heater doesn't work, so you NEED something warm."
She goes into the back and returns with a Macy's garment bag. I gaze at it in confusion as she places it in my hands.
"Merry Christmas, little brother."
I slowly peel the bag from the hanger to reveal a long, black, wool overcoat. It was now the finest thing I've ever owned.
The next day I wore a nice shirt and tie to really show it off at work. Not once on the way there did my teeth chatter. I was now able to brave to cold comfortably. Julie gave me some black leather gloves and Melinda gave me a very nice scarf. Everyone else at work gave me a family where caring and kindness always worked both ways. Dunsy gave me a Deadpool shirt and Deadpool kicks fucking ass.
The newfound confidence I had found followed me to my life on stage at Tucker's Blues. Dianne, the club owner and all around artistic sweetheart gave me two things I had always wanted; support and an opportunity.
My father took me out one afternoon and bought me a suit jacket and two shirts. He gave me something more important, though, he gave me an amazing memory of just him and me. I know had something to work towards.
My mom gave me some cash, with implicit instructions to, "Spend it on MYSELF this time." Her's has always meant just as much, I just never realized it before now.
On the sixteenth, a co-worker I really liked passed away. It hit me because it was so unexpected. I wrote a letter to her family, telling them how much she met to me and expressing sympathy for their loss. I found out later it was read at the funeral. In some small way, I was able to give a small comfort to those in need.
All of these things are what Christmas is all about for me.
It serves as the perfect ending to an awesome year, one that offers hope instead of prolonged, self induced misery. I've gotten more than I ever thought possible. It's the best Christmas I've ever had and the day itself is still three days away. And it all started, with a brand new coat from my big sister.
The search for inspiration
I've hit up every open mic for the past month now. All I want more than anything is to churn out something amazing, hit the stage with it and leave them all speechless. But I haven't been able to write anything lately. Not one word. It's gotten to the point that I'm writing about my writer's block, simply due to the complete lack of any other options.
I've been combing through memories lately, searching for inspiration. And maybe that's my problem. I've devoted countless blogs, as well as an entire book, to the woes of my past relationships and my current disdain of being single. Pharmaceuticals? Done it. Family dysfunction? Oh, yeah. Got that covered as well. So where do I go from here?
I do know that I don't wanna bitch and complain about my problems anymore, but I haven't had a new relationship in I don't know how long, so I'm not getting any fresh material from the stagnant well my love life has now become. I can't shake the feeling that I'm on the brink of my next big project, but it always seems to elude me, somehow.
It doesn't help that the lap top I now use is damned near broken. I have to type one handed, because the battery cable won't hold a charge unless I'm holding it. Frustrating. It wasn't six months ago when I could just sit down and type until I was too exhausted to keep my eyes open any longer. I want that spark back.
I've been combing through memories lately, searching for inspiration. And maybe that's my problem. I've devoted countless blogs, as well as an entire book, to the woes of my past relationships and my current disdain of being single. Pharmaceuticals? Done it. Family dysfunction? Oh, yeah. Got that covered as well. So where do I go from here?
I do know that I don't wanna bitch and complain about my problems anymore, but I haven't had a new relationship in I don't know how long, so I'm not getting any fresh material from the stagnant well my love life has now become. I can't shake the feeling that I'm on the brink of my next big project, but it always seems to elude me, somehow.
It doesn't help that the lap top I now use is damned near broken. I have to type one handed, because the battery cable won't hold a charge unless I'm holding it. Frustrating. It wasn't six months ago when I could just sit down and type until I was too exhausted to keep my eyes open any longer. I want that spark back.
Closure.
It was two years ago that I started this job, the day I first saw you as well as your birthday. That's a lot to squeeze into twenty-four hours. I haven't talked you in six months, but letting the day just pass by unnoticed didn't seem right to me for some reason. So, I went out, got you a card and left it on your desk first thing in the morning. It read...
------,
I thought for a long time,
about what to put here.
I wrote many drafts.
So many thoughts and feelings,
I wished to convey.
But none of them,
seemed appropriate,
written by the hand,
of the stranger that I've become.
So I think instead,
I'll just keep it simple,
and tell you that I truly wish you the best.
Have a wonderful birthday,
but above all else,
no matter what,
please...
don't ever change.
Still not quite sure what to put here,
Davlin
You wrote me an email thanking me and told me it was very sweet. The conversation didn't really go far from there until a couple of hours later. You asked me how I liked my new place and we tip-toed around topics we wanted to delve into, but were too scared of the answers we might find.
I grabbed up enough courage to ask you if you were dating anyone and you told me that you weren't, because it wasn't high on your list of priorities at the moment. You never asked whether or not I was seeing anyone and that could be taken either way. Then, for some reason, I asked you out for lunch. You accepted and we made tentative plans for the upcoming Saturday.
You took the rest of the week off, so I didn't see or hear from you, not that I was really expecting to. Saturday came and I was running errands, watching the time until our rendezvous. I got the text message asking if we were still on and we decided on a place we used to frequent back when...well, you know.
I arrived first, as is usually the case, my mind still reeling because you didn't cancel. I look up in the rear view mirror just in time to see your car pass by, making a knot twist inside my stomach. Suddenly, I wished I had cancelled.
We unceremoniously meet at the door and are seated at our table in less than a minute. We place our order before I let myself look at you. Your hair was worn casually and you had on a white wife beater. I couldn't believe you were actually sitting across from me. It's so weird how things play out.
We make a little small talk, a lot of small, awkward silences and you don't look at me the whole time. Your eyes dart above my head, at the table, the screaming baby across the restaurant, anywhere but into mine. Again, this can be taken either way.
The food arrives and gives a little more reason for the silence. The whole time I'm not sure what I think or feel about everything. I had pictured a hundred thousand different ways a situation like this with you would go down, no sexual pun intended. This just wasn't one of them.
The waitress brings us the check and after it's paid we just kind of sit there. As always I'm not sure what you're thinking. I don't know if you want to spend more time together, or if you just want this little adventure over and done with. I hate how you always make me second guess myself and everything around me.
I open my mouth as all the words I rehearsed escape me. Instead of easing my way into it, I simply say, “I'm sorry things got weird between us.”
“It happens.” You shrug nonchalantly.
“Yeah, but it shouldn't. I've changed a lot, now.”
“I can tell.”
“The irony of it all is that this is the guy I should have been the whole time. It took losing you to become that.
“Usually how it works.”
Silence.
“I was angry with you for a long time.”
“I could tell, but I never figured out why.”
“Because it was easier.”
“Easier than what.”
“Admitting the truth. It was easier than admitting I missed you, never got over you. I just didn't want to be hurt anymore and anger filled that gap quite nicely. I want you to know that I don't harbor any of those negative feelings anymore.”
“Good, then let's just move forward.”
“Move forward?”
“As acquaintances, friends is kind of a strong word.”
“Jesus, that's a little harsh.”
“Don't you think it'd be weird if we tried to be? Don't you think there'd be problems?”
I nod, “Yeah...probably.”
I tell you I don't want to keep you and I walk you to your car. We don't say a word as we hug and go our separate ways. The whole thing only lasted roughly thirty five minutes and it ended just like we did; bittersweet.
I think about all of it on the drive home. Everything from two years ago to now. You weren't the monster I made you out to be. All I ever saw was my side, I'm sure I was just as nasty from yours. This was the first time in a year I left you with my head held high and that's gotta count for something. I hope that if you aren't happy now, that you be. A part me is also sorry that I couldn't be the one that helped make it happen for you, but I know I'm not. For the first time I'm OK with that. It's time to move forward.
------,
I thought for a long time,
about what to put here.
I wrote many drafts.
So many thoughts and feelings,
I wished to convey.
But none of them,
seemed appropriate,
written by the hand,
of the stranger that I've become.
So I think instead,
I'll just keep it simple,
and tell you that I truly wish you the best.
Have a wonderful birthday,
but above all else,
no matter what,
please...
don't ever change.
Still not quite sure what to put here,
Davlin
You wrote me an email thanking me and told me it was very sweet. The conversation didn't really go far from there until a couple of hours later. You asked me how I liked my new place and we tip-toed around topics we wanted to delve into, but were too scared of the answers we might find.
I grabbed up enough courage to ask you if you were dating anyone and you told me that you weren't, because it wasn't high on your list of priorities at the moment. You never asked whether or not I was seeing anyone and that could be taken either way. Then, for some reason, I asked you out for lunch. You accepted and we made tentative plans for the upcoming Saturday.
You took the rest of the week off, so I didn't see or hear from you, not that I was really expecting to. Saturday came and I was running errands, watching the time until our rendezvous. I got the text message asking if we were still on and we decided on a place we used to frequent back when...well, you know.
I arrived first, as is usually the case, my mind still reeling because you didn't cancel. I look up in the rear view mirror just in time to see your car pass by, making a knot twist inside my stomach. Suddenly, I wished I had cancelled.
We unceremoniously meet at the door and are seated at our table in less than a minute. We place our order before I let myself look at you. Your hair was worn casually and you had on a white wife beater. I couldn't believe you were actually sitting across from me. It's so weird how things play out.
We make a little small talk, a lot of small, awkward silences and you don't look at me the whole time. Your eyes dart above my head, at the table, the screaming baby across the restaurant, anywhere but into mine. Again, this can be taken either way.
The food arrives and gives a little more reason for the silence. The whole time I'm not sure what I think or feel about everything. I had pictured a hundred thousand different ways a situation like this with you would go down, no sexual pun intended. This just wasn't one of them.
The waitress brings us the check and after it's paid we just kind of sit there. As always I'm not sure what you're thinking. I don't know if you want to spend more time together, or if you just want this little adventure over and done with. I hate how you always make me second guess myself and everything around me.
I open my mouth as all the words I rehearsed escape me. Instead of easing my way into it, I simply say, “I'm sorry things got weird between us.”
“It happens.” You shrug nonchalantly.
“Yeah, but it shouldn't. I've changed a lot, now.”
“I can tell.”
“The irony of it all is that this is the guy I should have been the whole time. It took losing you to become that.
“Usually how it works.”
Silence.
“I was angry with you for a long time.”
“I could tell, but I never figured out why.”
“Because it was easier.”
“Easier than what.”
“Admitting the truth. It was easier than admitting I missed you, never got over you. I just didn't want to be hurt anymore and anger filled that gap quite nicely. I want you to know that I don't harbor any of those negative feelings anymore.”
“Good, then let's just move forward.”
“Move forward?”
“As acquaintances, friends is kind of a strong word.”
“Jesus, that's a little harsh.”
“Don't you think it'd be weird if we tried to be? Don't you think there'd be problems?”
I nod, “Yeah...probably.”
I tell you I don't want to keep you and I walk you to your car. We don't say a word as we hug and go our separate ways. The whole thing only lasted roughly thirty five minutes and it ended just like we did; bittersweet.
I think about all of it on the drive home. Everything from two years ago to now. You weren't the monster I made you out to be. All I ever saw was my side, I'm sure I was just as nasty from yours. This was the first time in a year I left you with my head held high and that's gotta count for something. I hope that if you aren't happy now, that you be. A part me is also sorry that I couldn't be the one that helped make it happen for you, but I know I'm not. For the first time I'm OK with that. It's time to move forward.
A moment of your time?
Ask yourself this question, who am I? If you've already answered it, then you haven't thought about it long enough and your answer is incorrect. Now, let's delve a little bit deeper.
Are you the person that people see while you're sitting in a classroom? How about family reunions, where you pass through an ocean of people, making small talk with strangers that only pass as relatives because of a few similar strands of DNA? How about the version of yourself that you see while you daydream, the fantasies that you live when life just doesn't fit the way that you want it to? Are you more yourself when you are getting lit with some friends at five A.M. on a Saturday, simply because society tells us that it beats the alternative of sitting alone at home on the weekends? Speaking of being alone, do you feel and act differently then as opposed to how you are around others?
The point I'm trying to make with all this...well, there isn't a point. Not really. I just want you to think about it. So many of us are content with the image we have of ourselves. We don't want to grow, to question things about ourselves, because we might be afraid of the answers that we may find. There are so many expectations, set on us by ourselves and others that we believe we must live up to. What makes us successful? Is it the amount of money in our bank accounts, or just the satisfaction we feel when we lay our heads down at night. That is, if we're able to even find enough peace to dream.
I don't think any of us can know everything about ourselves. We will never really have an idea about who we are and that's a scary concept to grasp. However, it doesn't have to be. Asking all of these questions about ourselves is one of the most beneficial things that we can do. Break away from the emotions, all the bullshit really, and get down to the core of it all. This is where we grow and make strides towards the people we'd like to be.
We're all going to have bad days, that's inevitable, but if you find that the majority of them are that way then something is wrong. It's just one of the cycles that needs to be broken. Comfort, while divine, is also detrimental. You don't have to be what you think and others expect. A little introspection never hurt anyone. Just something to keep in mind.
Are you the person that people see while you're sitting in a classroom? How about family reunions, where you pass through an ocean of people, making small talk with strangers that only pass as relatives because of a few similar strands of DNA? How about the version of yourself that you see while you daydream, the fantasies that you live when life just doesn't fit the way that you want it to? Are you more yourself when you are getting lit with some friends at five A.M. on a Saturday, simply because society tells us that it beats the alternative of sitting alone at home on the weekends? Speaking of being alone, do you feel and act differently then as opposed to how you are around others?
The point I'm trying to make with all this...well, there isn't a point. Not really. I just want you to think about it. So many of us are content with the image we have of ourselves. We don't want to grow, to question things about ourselves, because we might be afraid of the answers that we may find. There are so many expectations, set on us by ourselves and others that we believe we must live up to. What makes us successful? Is it the amount of money in our bank accounts, or just the satisfaction we feel when we lay our heads down at night. That is, if we're able to even find enough peace to dream.
I don't think any of us can know everything about ourselves. We will never really have an idea about who we are and that's a scary concept to grasp. However, it doesn't have to be. Asking all of these questions about ourselves is one of the most beneficial things that we can do. Break away from the emotions, all the bullshit really, and get down to the core of it all. This is where we grow and make strides towards the people we'd like to be.
We're all going to have bad days, that's inevitable, but if you find that the majority of them are that way then something is wrong. It's just one of the cycles that needs to be broken. Comfort, while divine, is also detrimental. You don't have to be what you think and others expect. A little introspection never hurt anyone. Just something to keep in mind.
Restless
Ugh...I'm out of ambien and can't sleep. It's kind of sad when you need a pill to make you do the things that should come naturally. Plus, there's too much on my mind.
I had the second meeting with my artist today and I've gotta say, the shit we're churning out is amazing. It's a weird feeling, to have something stew in your head for so long, then describe it to someone and then for them to put it on paper visually. The more into the project we get, the more and more epic it becomes. In all honesty it might take close to a decade to tell the whole story. (in comic book form) I promise you this, though, it will be worth it.
Every other facet of my life seems to be slowing down. Last year was such a mess, I'm still adjusting to how to deal with the calm. I used to thrive in chaos, it was where I was most comfortable, because it was all I had ever known. But now here I am, things aren't perfect, but they are the best they've ever been for me. It's kind of nice having something to work towards and a future worth looking forward to.
I had the second meeting with my artist today and I've gotta say, the shit we're churning out is amazing. It's a weird feeling, to have something stew in your head for so long, then describe it to someone and then for them to put it on paper visually. The more into the project we get, the more and more epic it becomes. In all honesty it might take close to a decade to tell the whole story. (in comic book form) I promise you this, though, it will be worth it.
Every other facet of my life seems to be slowing down. Last year was such a mess, I'm still adjusting to how to deal with the calm. I used to thrive in chaos, it was where I was most comfortable, because it was all I had ever known. But now here I am, things aren't perfect, but they are the best they've ever been for me. It's kind of nice having something to work towards and a future worth looking forward to.
Epiphany in the static
Night time...
I'm driving. The lonely country road stretches out under an ocean of stars that will soon be lost within the ambient light of the city. I think in white noise.
Ten minutes from Rockwall and it finally kicks in. I roll the window further down. The radio is on full blast. The music seeps into my pores and pumps through my veins. The cool night air whips past my burning face and I smile. It's moments like this that I truly feel alive.
I come up the hill that marks the last exit for Rockwall. The Dallas skyline burns in the background like a fire that refuses to be extinguished. Beautiful. The bridge over the lake seems ten times longer than usual. The moon chases me along the surface of the water. It looks as though I can almost touch it.
Everything begins to slow down, including my thoughts. So, let's get down to it.
A lot of people lately have been asking me why I'm single and I don't know what to tell them. I analyze the decisions I have made and decide that I need to re-evaluate my priorites. I wonder why I am the way that I am. This line of thinking can be dangerous.
I start with childhood and work my way forward. The realization sets in that a part of me is still in that state, that it never matured. I think it's because, like so many other people, I had to grow up too fast. When your innocence is taken away from you at such a young age, a part of your emotional growth becomes stinted. If that happens, you could be stuck forever.
I have decided to let it all go. The baggage is too heavy and I am tired. I'm ready to be happy, to feel new emotions without the influences of the past. I don't want to be angry anymore. I just want to be.
Back at home, I flip through the channels and stop at a French animated film called 'Persepolis'. It's about a girl growing up during a revolution in Iran and I relate to it on more levels than I'd like to admit. I see myself in many of the characters, a few that I'm ashamed of.
At what age do our behaviors stop being cute and fun? When do we just become tragic and sad? I want to grow up and now's the time. I'm right back to where I started from all those years ago, only now I've got the lessons to help guide me. I've also got hope and opportunities, and those are things that I will never waste again.
Just some things to think about.
It's just so easy to want to give up sometimes. To succumb to the appathy and self pity until it hollows you out, leaving only an empty shell in its wake. As a society, we become more selfish and self absorbed every day. It blows my mind how some people can float through life without a conscience. How they can hurt people so deeply and not feel remorse, not feel anything at all really, because they weren't directly affected.
Have we become so jaded that the only way to feel good about ourselves is to make everyone around us as miserable as we are? Or is it out of self preservation? You know, burn them before they burn us? Or is something more malicious behind our actions? All I know is that we are losing our ability to be empathetic, and , along with that, our humanity all together.
Personally, I'd like to know when I became so nihilistic. Letting things go has always been hard for me. I'm a pack rat when it comes to emotional baggage. But its difficult to let wounds heal when they're not given a chance to. When all the mistakes and pain of your recent and distant past are constantly in your face, the wounds stay open. They constantly bleed. How do you find hope in a broken world? I don't know. I guess that's what we created religion for.
Do you ever feel like you're a prisoner in your own head? Sometimes, I'd like to live just one day as someone else. I want to know about how their thought process works. Am I alone with all these notions? Do other people think the same way I do? On some level they have to. I just find it difficult to believe that we're as unique and special as we delude ourselves into believing.
Have we become so jaded that the only way to feel good about ourselves is to make everyone around us as miserable as we are? Or is it out of self preservation? You know, burn them before they burn us? Or is something more malicious behind our actions? All I know is that we are losing our ability to be empathetic, and , along with that, our humanity all together.
Personally, I'd like to know when I became so nihilistic. Letting things go has always been hard for me. I'm a pack rat when it comes to emotional baggage. But its difficult to let wounds heal when they're not given a chance to. When all the mistakes and pain of your recent and distant past are constantly in your face, the wounds stay open. They constantly bleed. How do you find hope in a broken world? I don't know. I guess that's what we created religion for.
Do you ever feel like you're a prisoner in your own head? Sometimes, I'd like to live just one day as someone else. I want to know about how their thought process works. Am I alone with all these notions? Do other people think the same way I do? On some level they have to. I just find it difficult to believe that we're as unique and special as we delude ourselves into believing.
Vicarious Self Reflection-this one is important
Some days are better than others. In your heart you know that things are going ok. Not great, not necessarily good, but ok. Considering all that's happened, ok is a blessing, and you're thankful for it. But sometimes a random memory will pop into your head and it makes you sad. Just a little. You become so overwhelmed with the need to talk to her that you pick up your phone and start to text. Luckily, you stop yourself before you do anything rash and unwanted.
You start thinking about how the threads of a relationship can fray, tear, and over time you can't even tell where the seam once was. You question how many times a bridge can be burned and rebuilt before you run out of tools and strength to fix it one final time.
You think about all the girls you have loved, and the ones you only thought you did. You like to believe you took lessons from all of them that help you become a better person. You hope that they are doing ok, and that they look back on the time spent with you with more fond memories than regrets. You wonder if any of them wished things worked out between you. Especially the last one.
You wish you could talk to someone about all of this, but when you tell people how you think and feel, they look at you in that way you hate. You used to think that it was an expression of concern, but now you realize it's more out of fear. They've seen what happens when you let yourself go, and they can't go through that again. No pressure, right? Still, this leads to other memories.
When you got to the hospital, they took your shoelaces and belt as a precaution. So, you walk funny because everything is falling off. Your mom shakes as you answer questions, gives you a hug, and then you're all alone. You're 22, but you feel like a small child. In your wing people scream and wander around aimlessly. In bed you cover your head with a thin pillow trying in vain to block out the noises, all while praying to god that the sleeping pills kick in soon.
Three times a day they march you to the kitchen and feed you what they pass off as food. You choke it down and wonder how much it's costing you. There's nothing to do but smoke and talk, so you add a fresh layer of cancer to your lungs and exhaust all your stories. Your mom visits you with worry etched on her face, and tears in her eyes. When your dad comes to see you, he acts uncomfortable and just makes fun of the patients, not realizing that you're part of that freakshow.
During one group sessiong they play music that wouldn't get anyone too excited. You get to hear Blue October, which is a treasure. The counselor tells you to draw a picture of your family, and you do so without really thinking. She points out that you have excluded yourself in your pic. She points out that this says a lot about your personality, and what you think about yourself. Group ends before she can elaborate.
Eventually, you make enough progress to be released with new prescriptions and well wishes.
Once you are back in the real world, you become worse than before.
It takes months but you slowly, painfully crawl your way out of hell. You don't make it out unscathed, but you did make it out. That's what matters. For the first time in over a year, the sun hits your face. It warms you from the inside out. Moments like this are so rare in life that you want to enjoy it before it fades.
You make yourself a promise that you will never go through this again. You will never put up with what you have from people in the past. And you won't forget the most important thing you have learned so far...what it feels like to be alive. And, just like that, the melancholy feeling that started this whole train of thought has all but vanished.
You start thinking about how the threads of a relationship can fray, tear, and over time you can't even tell where the seam once was. You question how many times a bridge can be burned and rebuilt before you run out of tools and strength to fix it one final time.
You think about all the girls you have loved, and the ones you only thought you did. You like to believe you took lessons from all of them that help you become a better person. You hope that they are doing ok, and that they look back on the time spent with you with more fond memories than regrets. You wonder if any of them wished things worked out between you. Especially the last one.
You wish you could talk to someone about all of this, but when you tell people how you think and feel, they look at you in that way you hate. You used to think that it was an expression of concern, but now you realize it's more out of fear. They've seen what happens when you let yourself go, and they can't go through that again. No pressure, right? Still, this leads to other memories.
When you got to the hospital, they took your shoelaces and belt as a precaution. So, you walk funny because everything is falling off. Your mom shakes as you answer questions, gives you a hug, and then you're all alone. You're 22, but you feel like a small child. In your wing people scream and wander around aimlessly. In bed you cover your head with a thin pillow trying in vain to block out the noises, all while praying to god that the sleeping pills kick in soon.
Three times a day they march you to the kitchen and feed you what they pass off as food. You choke it down and wonder how much it's costing you. There's nothing to do but smoke and talk, so you add a fresh layer of cancer to your lungs and exhaust all your stories. Your mom visits you with worry etched on her face, and tears in her eyes. When your dad comes to see you, he acts uncomfortable and just makes fun of the patients, not realizing that you're part of that freakshow.
During one group sessiong they play music that wouldn't get anyone too excited. You get to hear Blue October, which is a treasure. The counselor tells you to draw a picture of your family, and you do so without really thinking. She points out that you have excluded yourself in your pic. She points out that this says a lot about your personality, and what you think about yourself. Group ends before she can elaborate.
Eventually, you make enough progress to be released with new prescriptions and well wishes.
Once you are back in the real world, you become worse than before.
It takes months but you slowly, painfully crawl your way out of hell. You don't make it out unscathed, but you did make it out. That's what matters. For the first time in over a year, the sun hits your face. It warms you from the inside out. Moments like this are so rare in life that you want to enjoy it before it fades.
You make yourself a promise that you will never go through this again. You will never put up with what you have from people in the past. And you won't forget the most important thing you have learned so far...what it feels like to be alive. And, just like that, the melancholy feeling that started this whole train of thought has all but vanished.
Friday night: revelations, Bone Daddy’s, and UCB
The first day of my new attitude is going far better than I could have expected. I kept it together, smiled, and meant it. Tonight, I have to celebrate. Matt comes by and picks me up. We decide to go to Bone Daddy's since it's the type of place where the silverware wears more material than the waitresses. On the way up there we smoke cigarettes and talk about our current relationships, or lack thereof. After much analysis we decide being single is definitely the way to go.
About half way there we're reminded of the number one reason not to trust 635. A massive traffic jam. We take the next exit which leads us to nothing but residential areas. After a half hour I realize I have no idea where we are, although it looks familiar. Suddenly, a landmark reminds me I'm two minutes away from Rotaquip. This was a job I had working with -----'s mom. It was great when her and I were together, but, take it from me, never work with an ex's mom. It did bring back some memories though...
Her coming up there on random days, and we'd go out for my lunch break. We'd always go to Chili's, and get lost in each other. It was nice til I faced her mom at work one day with hickeys all over my face and neck. None of which came from her daughter.
I'm brought back to the present by yet another familiar landmark. The Super Target ------ and I used to come to for groceries...
Sitting in on Friday nights, ordering pizza, and curling up next to each other on the bed for some late night television. The slow, painful realization that we were just there because the other one was a warm body. Too scared to let that go away, because loneliness seemed worse somehow.
A turn into another residential street. Jesus Christ, this can't be possible. We drive right by ------'s place. I ask him, " Are you the fucking ghost of relationship's past?" What's next? A visit to the parking lot where I popped my cherry? Then, we pass by the playground where her and I spent an amazing night...
A relationship consisting of smoking lots of pot, amazing sex, and listening to music. Then we found out that there wasn't really much more to it than that.
Hunger finally kicks me out of my nostalgia. We've been driving for over an hour now, and I'm starting to believe this place doesn't exist. My fears are soon put to bed when we finally find the highway, and reach the restaurant in minimal time. And everything he said about the place was true, it's awesome. The girls are all smoking hot, with each one looking better than the last. Until the obligatory old broad came out from the back. I prayed to any god out there that really existed, don't let us have the old broad.
Our table gets called and we're led to our table. I get so busied with the menu I don't hear the waitress come up. She asks what I want to drink and I look up at her. She's beautiful, and smells nice. She smiles, I smile. Life is good. When she comes back to our table I make a few jokes and she laughs. After that, I don't really speak to her. Baby steps, and all that. I look to my right and start to crack up at the sight of a table of disappointed guys. They got the old broad.
We have a conversation about how growing up without a decent father figure really screwed up our relationships with the opposite sex. He lost his father 14 years ago, and mine, we won't delve into. This meant we had to rely on the advice of our peers for any information dealing with women. I found out years later they didn't know anything more than I did.
The drive back is mostly in silence. Knowing where we are also cuts the time of it in half. We watch an episode of UCB and he heads home. I sit down and do something I haven't seriously done in ages. I write. It feels like I've finally found myself again. I think I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. (you can throw in your own cliché there, too. they're all interchangeable)
It's funny. When you're down, all anyone tells you is that 'it'll get better'. After awhile, you finally face your problems and get past them. The second they see you smile they say, "See? I told you so." As if some arbitrary comment they made weeks prior was the sole cause of your emotional rehabilitation. It cracks me up. That's like me standing next to a guy on a beautiful sunny day, and saying to him "It's gonna rain." Then, a month later when it does rain I say to him, "See? I told you so."
Right now, I'm just happy that this feeling has stuck with me. The ache is still there sometimes, but it's manageable. I guess it's all about being thankful for small favors. Today, I didn't let myself fall back down, and that makes it a very good day.
About half way there we're reminded of the number one reason not to trust 635. A massive traffic jam. We take the next exit which leads us to nothing but residential areas. After a half hour I realize I have no idea where we are, although it looks familiar. Suddenly, a landmark reminds me I'm two minutes away from Rotaquip. This was a job I had working with -----'s mom. It was great when her and I were together, but, take it from me, never work with an ex's mom. It did bring back some memories though...
Her coming up there on random days, and we'd go out for my lunch break. We'd always go to Chili's, and get lost in each other. It was nice til I faced her mom at work one day with hickeys all over my face and neck. None of which came from her daughter.
I'm brought back to the present by yet another familiar landmark. The Super Target ------ and I used to come to for groceries...
Sitting in on Friday nights, ordering pizza, and curling up next to each other on the bed for some late night television. The slow, painful realization that we were just there because the other one was a warm body. Too scared to let that go away, because loneliness seemed worse somehow.
A turn into another residential street. Jesus Christ, this can't be possible. We drive right by ------'s place. I ask him, " Are you the fucking ghost of relationship's past?" What's next? A visit to the parking lot where I popped my cherry? Then, we pass by the playground where her and I spent an amazing night...
A relationship consisting of smoking lots of pot, amazing sex, and listening to music. Then we found out that there wasn't really much more to it than that.
Hunger finally kicks me out of my nostalgia. We've been driving for over an hour now, and I'm starting to believe this place doesn't exist. My fears are soon put to bed when we finally find the highway, and reach the restaurant in minimal time. And everything he said about the place was true, it's awesome. The girls are all smoking hot, with each one looking better than the last. Until the obligatory old broad came out from the back. I prayed to any god out there that really existed, don't let us have the old broad.
Our table gets called and we're led to our table. I get so busied with the menu I don't hear the waitress come up. She asks what I want to drink and I look up at her. She's beautiful, and smells nice. She smiles, I smile. Life is good. When she comes back to our table I make a few jokes and she laughs. After that, I don't really speak to her. Baby steps, and all that. I look to my right and start to crack up at the sight of a table of disappointed guys. They got the old broad.
We have a conversation about how growing up without a decent father figure really screwed up our relationships with the opposite sex. He lost his father 14 years ago, and mine, we won't delve into. This meant we had to rely on the advice of our peers for any information dealing with women. I found out years later they didn't know anything more than I did.
The drive back is mostly in silence. Knowing where we are also cuts the time of it in half. We watch an episode of UCB and he heads home. I sit down and do something I haven't seriously done in ages. I write. It feels like I've finally found myself again. I think I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. (you can throw in your own cliché there, too. they're all interchangeable)
It's funny. When you're down, all anyone tells you is that 'it'll get better'. After awhile, you finally face your problems and get past them. The second they see you smile they say, "See? I told you so." As if some arbitrary comment they made weeks prior was the sole cause of your emotional rehabilitation. It cracks me up. That's like me standing next to a guy on a beautiful sunny day, and saying to him "It's gonna rain." Then, a month later when it does rain I say to him, "See? I told you so."
Right now, I'm just happy that this feeling has stuck with me. The ache is still there sometimes, but it's manageable. I guess it's all about being thankful for small favors. Today, I didn't let myself fall back down, and that makes it a very good day.
Sappiness
21 years. That's how long i've been on this planet. I've experienced just about everything that life can throw at you. And somehow i've survived, and became stronger for it. I've felt the loss of death, and the joy of birth. Hell, i've been reborn a thousand times over and don't see that stopping. I've parted with friends i've loved deeply, and made new ones that i have no idea how i've survived without them. I celebrated 3 younger siblings being brought into this world, but also mourned the loss of my own child, one that i'll never get to know. I've learned lessons the hard way, and taught a few myself. I've had my bouts with suicide, and after almost succeeding i realized how pointless is really is. After almost ten years of relationships i've found out that i still don't know much about love or women. And yet somehow throughout all the pain and heartache i wouldn't trade a instant. I'm here, and for the first time since as long as i can remember, i'm happy.
Revelation of sorts.
I've come to this realization after several conversations and incidents set me into deep thought. People seldom forgive, and they never forget. And that's fine. I don't begrudge anyone their hangups as long as i'm allowed mine. That being said, how long am i supposed to let the mistakes of my past label who i am now as a person? Granted, there are a lot of things i wish i could take back, but doesn't everybody? I've done everything i could think of to show people the light, but they believe what they wanna believe. I've finally decided to leave them to their delusions and fabrications. So for everyone in the past that i've hurt, i am truly sorry. Really i am. I wish i could repair the damage done, but if you won't let me, it can never happen. So i do apologize, but if that isn't enough, then fuck it. I'm too emotionally exhausted to give a shit anymore.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)