This one . . .
, , , this one right here
comes from the deepest place in my heart
and as for you,
this one is for you,
and me too.
I go back to a morning after a long night,
which took place at a time
when everything in my life
was in the midst of a great change — or,
if not a great change itself,
perhaps it would be better to call this
an understanding of a new chapter.
Ah, life in my early 20’s . . .
I wish I knew you then.
Or, maybe I did,
and I didn’t even know it.
I was dressed in a tux from the night before.
I young then or at least young enough
to not understand
that life was about to unfold
and that as much as I thought I knew it all,
life was about to teach me
that I didn’t know a thing.
I wonder what my life would have been like,
if you met me then
or if I knew that you “liked” me
or if I knew this deep down
that I had a chance
or that someone like you
would love someone like me . . .
But, I digress.
I had just finished a great night
of wildness and equal confusion.
I was at my first real wedding,
which means that I was part of the wedding party,
which is part of life
and in both ways
this was also time and age appropriate.
Everyone was about to move on.
One of my best friends
was just married to his high school sweetheart,
which we knew was destined for failure
for countless reasons,
but those reasons are not for this entry
nor are they anyone else’s business.
But me?
I was aware that life was about to change.
i knew that there would be more weddings
like this one where
two people move on to the next level.
I knew that nothing
was ever going to be the same again,
but now that I know differently,
or now that age has stepped in,
I realize that nothing is ever the same,
including the same things we see on a daily basis.
Life changes. The world changes.
And so do we.
I understand this.
I understand the basis of my plea
and I understand the depths of my truth
because although my life has changed,
my dream is still the same.
So is my desire; only,
my desire now is greater than
my desire when I was young
and experiencing my first touch
beyond the bra or beneath the pants
with a hand in the treasure
and hoping to lose my virginity.
I go back to the time when
I had just arrived home.
The wedding was picture perfect.
(At least something was)
The hour was about to meet daybreak
and the sky
was starting to show the signs of first light.
I had decided that I wanted to see this.
But not from where I was.
I decided that I wanted to see
this someplace special. The beach.
I have been aching for this, for years now,
to show you this place—the beach at Point Lookout.
I say this because
while I have sworn off
the different versions of organized religion,
which is not to say
that I have sworn off my belief
nor have I sworn off my belief system; still,
I have sworn off and moved away
from the typical churches
or manmade places of usual worship.
However, if there is to be a holy place to me
or a place with a spiritual or holy atmosphere,
Godlike or inspiring me to gain
some kind of holiness or holier attitude;
it would be here, the beach at Point Lookout.
I have always wanted to take you here — yet,
we never went, which is a shame.
I do not assign any fault or blame,
at least not now.
But . . .
I have always wanted to show you this place
because I grew up here, essentially speaking,
and I was raised here.
I saw moments here
that I will never see again,
and I had times here, and memories
that date back to my earliest of all memories
with my Father, The Old Man,
and times like this one
when I was alone
in every sense of the word.
I have always wanted to take you here
because, for me, this would be the only way
I could introduce you to my Father
or show you my truest self.
There is something to this place for me,
which, I suppose, is the reason
why I decided to come here
after that wedding
to watch the sun come up from this spot.
I drove from my place of living
to my place of worship, so-to-speak,
and as I made my way to the beach,
the sunrise was with me.
I passed over the Loop Parkway Bridge
and noticed the outgoing boats.
The traffic light was kind enough to wait for me,
so that as I crossed over the bridge
I could make my way
across and into the parking lot
of Point Lookout.
Mine was the only car there.
The parking lot was empty.
I parked up front
and I opened the door
to exit my beat-up, blue four-door Chevy,
which was loud and rumbling
or unattractive at best
it might not have been pretty,
but then again, the car ran well enough
and maybe I wasn’t pretty either
but that is neither here nor there.
I walked over towards the beach
and heard the sound of the waves
echoing across the shoreline.
I could hear the sound of the gulls
as they cried to each other
and flew overhead.
The summer had just begun
and the air was warm.
My hair was long at the time
blondish and brown
and flowing in the wind.
I had two silver hoop earrings
in my left ear.
I had a pack of Camels in my suit coat pocket
and a lighter as well.
The sun was showing itself
and me, I was in the middle
of viewing the sunlight, as if to see this in a new light,
or, as if to say goodbye
to an old light or, more accurately,
perhaps this was me
saying goodbye to an old life
at a young age.
Man . . .
I was young. I was unsure.
I was afraid of the next chapter
and afraid to find out
that perhaps I was either faulty or flawed
or too defective
or in my own worst fear, I was afraid to find
that I was otherwise unmatchable or unlovable
or unworthy
of such a lifelong connection
which I choose to call love.
No, I would not use the words
“hope” or “hopeful” while I stood in the sands.
My tie was undone, collar loose,
and my white shirt was untucked
as if to visually describe me as young man
right after the party had ended.
I stood there in disbelief.
I stood there, trying hard to stand in my
“look at me” pose
or trying to pull off my best looking posture
and wishing I was cool
or beautiful.
I remember this:
the sun shone down to expose me as I was,
which was young and partially defiant,
and partially wishing and partially praying,
and partially hoping that perhaps one day,
I would find love too, and I mean
“real love”
and when I did, or perhaps I should say
now that I have, or now that I know
what my love looks like
or who she is — I want to go back
to revisit this spot, as if to say
“thanks for hearing my plea.”
This place of mine, and the beach,
and the memories I have
and the moments of travesty which also
range from times and moments of justice
and victory –
these are all pieces of my true self—or, perhaps
I should say this is symbolic to me,
the beach and the location.
This is someplace that stands out
like an emblem on my soul,
or maybe I could call this place
an illustrative representation of my life,
which developed in stages
and stems from long ago
and leads me up to here
or to where I am now.
I want to go here . . .
I want to show you.
I want you to know
where I would go on New Year’s Day,
at sunrise as a child.
I would come here with him, my Father,
The Old Man.
We would walk here for hours
and allow ourselves a moment together
and a truce,
which was harder when I grew older;
but ah, when I was younger,
this was my identification
of a time
when I was able to walk
with my very first hero.
I used to always make sure
that I stepped at least one step
in his footprints
which he left behind in the sand
so that maybe one day
I could follow his footsteps
and be heroic too
(just like Him).
No one else would understand this.
No one else would care enough
or know enough about me
to understand the depth of this place.
No one else would “feel” this . . .
. . . at least not the way I can or hopefully,
no one else would understand
the value of this introduction—
except for you.
Hopefully
I have to say,
it is not easy to have emotion, or to feel,
or to have a cognitive connection
to thoughts which trigger memories,
which unlock old remnants of my past, or older fears,
which is how I lived my entire life.
If not my entire life,
I can say that I lived this way
for most of my life
which has to change
if I am to make my way.
As for hope
or as this pertains to this
The Book of Hope,
I have hope that somehow,
I can still pull off my trick.
I have hope that somehow,
I will be seen and felt
and heard and worthy
or at least worth the risk.
I have hope that I will stand here in the sands,
and you will see, and you will know,
and feel the deepest part of me,
which is the root of who I am and thus,
these are the details
of my deepest truths.
Ah, Point Lookout.
You have been my lifelong sanctuary.
I hope you can hear me.
I hope you can see this.
I hope that you will allow my this wish.
To The Beach:
You have been a place of reprieve
and a location of solace and, to me,
you have become a place
where I can report my life.
I can tell my secrets and confess my sins
to the outgoing tides.
I can imagine The Old Man is out there,
running a ship somewhere,
fishing the depths of the bluest ocean,
or happily steering at the helm
of some great vessel,
at peace, and free from our earthly hang-ups.
I was a little boy here.
Then a young man
and now, approaching my 52nd year
around the sun, I am realizing
that another change has to take place.
I have never gone and read to you, out here.
But I should.
I should read some of my notes
and let my words take to the winds
with hopes that
“Whomever,” and to “Whichever” Gods that be
or the powers above
would allow my voice to be heard
beyond the breakers and the waves,
and as I posture up
and as I stand tall, and ready
to confess
regardless of whether I am loved or accepted
or beautiful or wanted
and despite whether I am deemed worthy
in my own head or able
or capable of building, growing,
or superseding my own limitations
and allowing myself the rites of passage
or the right to continue and to improve;
I want to come here.
I want to show you this.
I want to come to my most humbling place,
vulnerable as can be, and truthfully,
without pride
or without the need for a defense
or without the need to explain myself
or to rationalize or justify my life,
I want to come here
and show you the only place
where I can breathe and be felt
and speak and be heard and yes,
I want to show you this place
because I have nothing else
that is this valuable.
I want to be beautiful.
I don’t ever want to feel that “feeling” again,
which is the way it felt all those years ago,
standing in the sands, missing in my own world
and thinking that I was flawed
and empty
after a long night and party,
which took place after the other party
of an old friend’s wedding.
I don’t want to be that unsure
or be that unsafe again.
Worried,
alone
and doubtful.
I don’t ever want to fear the unknown
or the next page; and more,
while I grant that this note is mixed
with a trillion capsules of different emotions
and while I am far too deep now to turn back
especially after exposing my weakness to you—
so, then, I might as well go on and continue.
I might as well show you everything
since you’ve already seen it all
and should you reject me or reject my offer
or should this not be enough
or should life have its own way of saying
this is simply too little, and too late,
then please, before anything else,
allow me the favor to reveal
this one more truth.
Whether I am stained or riddled with marks
that cannot be removed
from the reasons behind my past,
or whether I am too unsure
or unsafe in my own skin, let alone
to allow myself to propose my life
and offer my love to another,
both fully and wholeheartedly,
then before I declare anything
or before I deepen myself in a modest pose
which I take before you — I would like
to offer you this.
This is my heart.
Do with it as you will.
Take it or leave it. Either way,
I understand now.
I see what so many people miss in their lives.
I see why people live an unhappy
or an unfulfilled life—and the reason
is the life they took is not the life they hoped for,
and due to a fear that perhaps
they might get nothing,
they chose something
over nothing,
and they gained
nothing close to what they wanted.
People are quick to choose something over nothing,
and now
I see what happens
when people allow themselves to settle
or take a settlement, and realize that hell,
this is not the life I wanted.
Dammit-to-hell, this is not the love I wanted,
and dammit all!
This was a bad deal
which I took because
I never realized that I deserve the dream
and that I deserve the life I want.
And now, as I stand before you — I recognize
that if I allow myself
to do anything other
than what my heart truly desires,
then anything I received
would only be a far and distant second
to the life I have always wanted.
I don’t want to place second
or third
or fourth in my own life.
No, that’s why I am here.
I don’t care if you like me
or love me back.
I don’t care if I am alone
or if I have to come back to this place,
the beach,
with my head hung down
and there I am again,
standing in the sands to report another loss.
I say this because at least now,
I can say that for the first time in my life,
I put it out there.
I am crying bleeding
and speaking from my heart
and if this is not enough,
then fine
at least I did this . . .
vulnerable or not.
There is no one in the world
who can love you more than me.
And should that not be enough, then fine.
Or should I not be “the one”
then fine.
But I put it out there.
I told the universe who I am.
I told the sky why I chose to show up.
And I told you that I love you
with all of my heart.
I say it like this
because if I am to grab the biggest prize of my life,
which is not just “you” per se,
but also the gift of true love,
or the gift of hope, or the gift of happily ever after,
and for me to ask for the gift
that maybe only a small few can receive,
which is the connection between two soulmates,
then if I am to ask for such a great honor,
like your hand in marriage,
or to be your best friend
for the rest of my life, or to be your confidant,
or to be your person in the world,
like no one else or like none other,
never to share this with anyone else
other than you;
then I will have to give everything I have
because you cannot have everything you want
if you are not willing to risk everything to get it.
That’s what I’m doing.
I am risking it all, right here.
This is me –
small
a child
a man
growing
and learning
living
and watching
and someday, with all of my heart,
I will show you this place.
We will be here
on a morning
when no one else is around
and I will show you where I stood
in fear that life would leave me unlovable;
and lastly, I will show you all that I went through
just to get me to this point,
which is not a place of bravery;
but instead, this is me, realizing and understanding
that I have allowed so much time to go away
and I have never dared
as much as I am about to dare now,
with you.
I am only a man.
Sometimes silly
Oftentimes funny
Often alone and frightened
but regardless of my flaws or downfalls
and no matter how bad things have been
or become, I still came back
and I’m still here
pain or not, and I never left
but instead,
I came back for more.
Therefore,
I refuse to lose again
or to settle
or to allow myself to
become lower than primary.
This is not a goal of mine anymore.
This is my priority
And so are you . . .
Always~
The Written Addiction 