Remove The “If”

If it were up to me, we would never grow old.
If it were up to me, everything would feel as good as the first time my Grandmother told me a bedtime story or fed me a meal. Nothing else in the world ever feels like grandma’s bedtime stories. Nothing tastes as good as when Grandma makes it.
If it were up to me, everything would be as easy as an afternoon I once spent in the autumn months. The air was neither too warm nor too cold. The sun was on its way down and the world was quiet. I could see the golden hue from the sunset reflecting against the trees in a field as I walked home from a moment that was (shall we say) less than comfortable. But yet, the afternoon was somehow by a beautiful moment before the sun went down. God, that was perfect.

If it was up to me, we would live, love, laugh, and learn from this day forward, without any issue, without any concerns, and without any fears.
If it were up to me, nothing would be complicated.
We would learn to simplify our complicated life by releasing us from the unnecessary contracts that lock us in.
We could take a break from our unrealistic perfections.
There would be no need to argue.
We wouldn’t have to fight or struggle for attention. The word “Sorry” would still have meaning instead of being this repetitive word people throw around like an old sheet of paper.

If it were up to me, we would never lose sight of our dreams. We would always remember. We would never surrender.
If it were up to me, I would never say the wrong thing at the right time or the right thing at the wrong time because if it were up to me, I would never worry about this thing we call “Insecurity,” because this is what causes most of our concerns. Isn’t it?
Jealousy, inadequacy, to believe that something about us is less than or “not enough,” so we speak and we say things to recover a sense of dignity; only to dig ourselves in deeper. Meanwhile, none of this is helpful.

If it were up to me, I would stop fighting against myself. If it were up to me, there would be no such thing as self-harm or self-sabotage. There would be no reason to speak up just so we don’t feel unnoticed.
You would never feel uncomfortable. Neither would I. Neither would anyone, which would help us all get along better because this way, we would be comfortable enough in our own skin that neither of us would ever have the ultimate fear of being alone (or feel unworthy.)

If it were up to me, the people I love would never hurt. The people I love would know me; they would know everything, and I would never lose to my assumptions (and neither would you.)
We would never be swept away by the terms our situations may imply. If I could do this, the people I love would never worry or feel a moment of unsureness because they would know that wherever they are, no matter what time it is, no matter where they are, I am there, always, and that I may not always be smooth; I may struggle from time to time, —I have anxiety and fears, and I have this trick I’ve been working on which can be frustrating at times, and sometimes, life turns me around and I face the wrong way which causes me to see the wrong things, but either way, if it were up to me, nothing would be wrong because there would be no more right or wrong. You would know. And I wouldn’t care so much about my meeting on Thursday at 3:30 or worry about the size of the conference room. And I wouldn’t put so much stock in what people say or think. I could let go of the wasteful ideas and the regrets of my past. I could let go of me ego as well and not worry about saving face (or my ass) and people like us could simply move on without regarding our regrettable yesterdays.

If it were up to me, traffic would be a thing of the past. If it were up to me, I would never sustain a wasted afternoon, sitting in a car, wishing I was someplace else —maybe like a place that I saw before, like say, on the roof where The Riot House was that time on Sunset Boulevard.
I saw this during a colorful sunset at a time when I never thought I would see L.A. again. But I did.

If it were up to me, we would all learn how to enjoy a moment without complicating it.  There would be no more overthinking.
People would have better manners. Common courtesy would not be outdated or antiquated.
People would have table manners as well, —and I laugh about this while I write to you because I am thinking about an anxious moment at a place downtown. I was sitting in a crowded Chinese food place next to a woman that had no table manners nor any social grace whatsoever.  She had dirt beneath her fingernails. She was cursing about a date she went on. And the grease from her food was all over her face. And she ate like a savage, aggressive and mean. I think she might have even burped at one point.

If it were up to me, nobody would ever say another hurtful thing; neither intentional nor unintentional, and neither of us would take these things personally because we would know —we would understand, and things, such as the affairs of the heart would never be confused. We would understand that fate is fate, love is love, and faith is faith.

I want to be this way (You know?)
I don’t want to wish I could rewind back to a moment during a specific time and re-say something I wish I never said.
I don’t want to waste another minute, wishing I could undo something I wish I’d never done, which is why if it were up to me, there would be no reason to feel invalid.
Neither of us would have to fight to be validated. This way we could nurture the moment instead of nurturing the worries we have that are dictated between the ideas of wrong or right.

Another thing is if it were up to me, no one would ever settle. We would never compromise our dreams or negotiate our worth. We would never give us away to something so cheap and fleeting.
We would never give us away so quickly to feel something extraordinary, even if it isn’t real, or redeem our wishes and dreams for something less-than our worth because we’re too afraid we might let ourselves down (again.)

If it were up to me, we would never waste another moment arguing. Not ever.
If it were up to me, you would never worry. You wouldn’t have to because you would know, you would see, and you would understand. And so would I for that matter, which would help us because if it were up to me, we would always understand and we would never be taken in by the undertow of the circumstances which happen beyond our control.

Above all, if it were up to me, food would always be the best thing in the world. We could eat anything and not worry.
And we could share a meal together, you and me, and laugh the whole time about the faces we make, the people we meet, and the things we do because at last, not everything would be so damned serious, and finally we could just kick back and be us—or better yet, be unlimited by the limitations we place upon ourselves.

If it were up to me, today would be the best day ever. And it still can be, if it’s up to me, because what it comes down to is this is all up to me.
It always is and it always will be.

Everything else is just out of my hands


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