Notes from the Neighborhood – The Never Have I Ever Game

There is a game called Never Have I Ever.
It’s a drinking game which I have never played before. But at the same time, I haven’t played a drinking game since the time I drank a bottle of whiskey in my old friend Pete’s house. At the same time, I haven’t had a drink in over three decades.
So, the chances of me playing Never Have I Ever are not happening.
However, the object of the game is to say something that you haven’t done and anyone who has done this is supposed to drink.

What I am about to reveal is not meant with the intention to make you drink. However, I was thinking about the game itself and how the opportunity for a statement like “Never have I ever,” could lead us to a brand new possibility.

Never have I ever been here before.
Never have I ever been touched so deeply.
Never have I ever experienced true love in such a way that my vulnerability is unafraid and my trust is not in question because trust (or the lack thereof) is not even a question.

I have talked to you about music before. I know there are different songs that I have found to create a deeper connection between myself and my life. There are songs that I have found inspiring or freeing in a sense that the music and the lyrics connect me to an understanding. Better yet, the music and the lyrics allows me to open the so-called floodgates of emotion, whether good or bad, intense, joyous or sad, there are songs which describe me either in symphony or with their lyrics.
For example: I want to see you, walking away from me without the sensation of you leaving me alone.
I love this. . .
I love that I have told you about my fascination with the song, Sweet Thing, and my appreciation for the part where the song says, “And I shall drive my chariot down your streets and cry, hey it’s me I’m dynamite and I don’t know why.”

I want this for myself.
(and for you as well)
Never have I ever been where I am now, as in right here.
Never have I ever been so found and so lost at the same time.

I am alive and well and that’s for sure.
I am moving and trying my best to gain momentum which is the only thing I can do (for now) to get me from where I am and to be where I want to be.

Never have I ever been where I am, which is vulnerable, alone and new to so many unsettling thoughts or ideas of loneliness.
And yes, it’s lonely.
Sure it is.
It’s lonely to wonder about my future or the love of my life. 
Although there is something visionless about her, I can see her clearly and so perfectly defined. However, something blurs the outlines of her perfection, to which I say this is only me. I say this is the means of insecure natures that distract our focus to gain momentum and move ahead.

Sometimes the bravest, strongest and most difficult task is to face the truth.
It’s enough to make a man weep or cry or shake his fists and wonder “Why?”

Sometimes, it’s enough to say at least I got out of bed today.
At least I stood up on my own today.
At least I have air in my lungs today.

Never have I ever compared myself to you or to your life and never have I ever considered the world around me, which takes place beyond the scope of my understanding because, in fairness, I only know what I see. I only know what music sounds like to me or what the sensation of touch feels like to me.
I wish I could feel you though – touch you or hear you breathe . . .

On the day that I decided I wanted to be a writer and to write with the intention of becoming a so-called “real” writer, I came to the decision that I needed to learn ways to explain myself through words. So, if I were going to define something or describe a thought or a feeling or a humbling emotion or attitude, then I would have to write this in a way that I could either be descriptive enough or somewhat picturesque in a sense that you could either see what I am seeing or internally, you could literally feel what I am feeling. 

Never have I ever been able to express myself in such a way before.
Never have I ever been brave enough to be daring enough to face the truth in such an open light.
Until now.
Never have I ever wept for love and felt love the way I do now and never have I ever been this open and never have I ever seen the doorway, which leads me to you – is it here?
Is it in your heart?
Where’s the key?
Is this the only way to unlock your door?

Never have I ever experienced a moment of perfect ease when the sun comes up and the ocean is calm, moving across the shores of some place in Europe.
Never have I ever been exposed in such a way that while the light is across my body, there is no worry or fear nor anything but the sanctuary of amazement because you are there too, naked as I am, connected by the stings of fate which has brought us together.

There is this misconception of life which we all have. There are times when we misconceive others or their intentions. At the same time, I have no right to judge nor do I have the right to assume.
Yet, we still do. Assume, I mean.

Never have I ever thought this way – until now.
Never have I ever felt this way – until now.
Never have I ever seen the sunrise from where I am – until now.

See?
I suppose this is how the game is supposed to work.
I don’t need to drink to enjoy this game.

I have been through hell and back. Yet, I am no different from anyone else who lives in this world.
We all live through hard times. We all bleed. We all hurt. We all wake in the morning.
The real challenge is this: What are we going to do now?

Never have I ever been this honest or this open.
But alas, is this too late?
Either way – never have I ever been in the position to allow myself this freedom – to go, to try, to open up and be this humble or modest. Let’s face it, to be this vulnerable (I grant you) it’s a trip to say the least.

However, where I am now is new to me.
The sunset looks different from my window.
So does my drive into New York City.
So does everything now . . .
Including you

As for this “Never have I ever,” business . . .
I plan to check each box.
I plan to make a list of things that I have never done and one by one, systematically, I plan to strike a line through each and every item.

I suppose I will close today’s entry with this:
The biggest crime in our life is theft of services.
And worse, the biggest theft of all is the theft of ourselves.
The worst crime is the crime we commit against ourselves. And yes, I believe that I have robbed myself of decades which if I am to recover or to regain at least a tiny amount or a semblance of my true self, then I will have to take it from here regardless of my fears or my worries that I will be “Alone.”

I can’t say “Never have I ever been alone before.”
I can’t say that and neither can you.

This entry is gearing me up to reach a new or heightened level of awareness.
I want to improve. I want to be better.
I have chosen to section myself away, at least, in some regard.

But reasons for this are simple –
Sometimes, life’s a bitch.
I see no reason to pretend that everything is fine.

Sometimes, it’s fine not to be fine and it’s okay not to be okay.

Am I okay?
Well, I know that I am alive.
I can breathe (but my nose is stuffed).
I can feel.
I can think.
I can bitch and complain (if I want to).
Or I can get back to my game of Never Have I Ever and one by one, systematically, I can accomplish my feat and strike a line through the things I have never did before which, consistently, I think this is my only way to achieve paradise.

Never have I ever heard the sound of the ocean from the shores of Havana
But someday though . . .
I hope.