And then one day becomes two and two becomes four. And deep down, I know this. I suppose we all do.
We know that the past has a way of slipping behind us, if we allow it. Or the past can kill us alive, if we let it. So . . .
There is something to be said about the sunrise. There’s something to be said about the east and how the sky changes over my little suburban town. There’s something to be said about the promise of tomorrow, and yes, there is something to be said about the forgetfulness of the clouds.
I know that life changes. As a matter of fact, I know that I’ve changed too.
I know that we all change, and everything changes, and people move on, or go their separate ways. This is fine. No, really. This is okay.
I know that the landscapes change and the old places are not around anymore. Therefore, their memories can fade into the background of some new evolution of life as it unfolds.
Strange can become familiar, and on the other end, familiar can become strange and people can become strangers.
I remember listening to a man stand and give a eulogy. Perhaps I paraphrase when I say this, at least partially. However, the meaning behind his offer carried enough weight that I regard this when thinking about my past. The goodness behind his sentiment was enough that I could settle the unfixable moments of an unchangeable past, which are all behind us now and at last, this is in our rearview.
The man offered the following: may the memories that bring you tears now become the memories that bring you smiles and comfort in your future.
I like this idea.
I like the idea that even pain can heal and bring comfort.
I like to think that I can find resolve and let go of the blaming statements or the need to find fault.
I like the idea that suggests healing takes place and that even in real-life settings, or when regarding our older memories, we can look back and the laced edges of resentment can release their grips—and we can smile enough and say, “yeah, those were some crazy times.” Then we can move forward without the need to overthink the symptoms of “What went wrong?”
It is good to realize that time is our friend. And it is better to realize that time is always moving. Therefore, we can heal, and we can grow. We can move on. We can start a new life at any given moment, we can learn and we can recognize our faults and where we need to improve.
We can relieve ourselves and forgive the debt of trying to figure out who was at fault. Also, we can realize that perhaps there is fault or blame; however, the best part of moving forward is we can reach an understanding that it doesn’t matter anyway.
We can understand that since there is no way to re-litigate the past and since there is no way to change “What was,” then we can adjust our sights.
We can focus on “what is”. Hence, we can adapt and improve. We can change our minds and change our direction.
We can apologize; however, it is important to remember that a heartfelt apology is enough.
I say this because the repetition of an apology is not so much of an apology at all. But more, this is a selfish regard to absolve someone from their own guilt, because they know that they did you wrong. To be more direct, the more we repeat an apology, the more we look to remove the guilt from something we did, which we know was either selfish or unfair—yet, we still did it, nonetheless.
What does this say about a person?
I can’t apologize for my past again, nor can I live in the thoughts of what happened or live my life according to what took place. I cannot be concerned with who approves of me or who likes me, who loves me, or who doesn’t.
I know there is true love for me in this world.
I know this is wholesome and I know this is real.
I know this is out there for me, as in right now.
So, I cannot live my life in accordance with the ideas of rejection or if I was good enough or not.
And last, I cannot live my life in the eyes of someone else or worry about their wrongs or their insults. I can’t worry about what they say or think about me, or how they regard me—whether this is good or bad, because either way, none of this matters. Unless I allow this to matter.
What now?
I suppose the hardest part of choosing to walk away or understanding that there is no other choice is to act—and this is a hard pill to swallow; however, the realization of walking away and not being followed or regarded or chased or asked to come back is painful.
I have heard it said that the hardest part of walking away, regardless of how slow you move is that whenever you look back, you notice that no one is coming after you.
I know that the hardest thing to avoid are the thoughts, to which we overthink or over-analyze and then, of course, we drive ourselves crazy.
It is hard to avoid the normal paths or to change the places where you used to find or to change your rhythm. It is hard to put the phone down and not reach out. More importantly, it’s hard to be the one who always reaches out and realize that no one would call, if you didn’t call them first.
This is a lonely feeling. However, the redemption comes when I realize, “ya know what? I don’t have to be that person anymore.”
It is also hard when this is pointed out, like, as if to say, “haven’t you noticed?”
This is hard when you hear someone tell you this, and deep down, you really knew this, but you held on so tightly that you didn’t want to believe it. . .
It is hard to learn that you can put yourself out there and show your soul and be vulnerable and literally uncovered, without protection, as if to be raw to the air and naked in the sense that you are absent of disguise, and then you realize—you sold yourself to the wrong bidder. Or you sold yourself short because no one even made a bid. You only assumed or hoped.
But hopes change too.
I admit the world is not an honest place and people are not an honest species.
I understand this.
Lies happen. I know this because I’ve lied too.
I’ve lied to gain an edge. I’ve lied to protect my interests or myself. And I’ve said that I’ve lied to protect others from seeing the truth—but that’s not true.
No, I kept my secrets to keep my comforts. And so have other people.
But now that I am free from this, I will never return to it. Thus, I will never live another double-life or speak from two faces or degrade myself by being dishonest.
I say this to be clear because I realize that who I am to condemn?
How can I point fingers of direct blame when I’ve been guilty too?
I can be the pot or I can be the kettle.
And sure, this is the case of the pot calling the kettle black.
However, I must clean up my side of the street.
I have to do this first which means the other side is none of my business.
What now?
Well, today will become tomorrow and then the next day will eventually become last week and then last month and eventually, today will be last year—and one year later, I can look at where I am now and where I’ve been.
I look around and come to an honest question, which is more than “what now?”
But, what have I done?
Have I grown?
Have I learned?
Have I beat my head against the same wall or tried to fix the unfixable patterns that needed to be left alone or behind me?
What have I done?
The great part about this is when I realize the answer, and when I come to my next, “what now?” moments, I can decide what to do.
I can change my mind. I can change my direction.
I can walk away, freely, and never look back at a past that never needed to happen in the first place. Better yet, I can walk away and stop regarding the people who never came after me to begin with.
Today will become tomorrow. This will happen soon enough.
I am certain that this year will eventually become last year or two years ago, and so on.
Therefore, my goal is to be better and to move on and find a more suitable life.
I don’t need to reconsider what happened or look to re-litigate what took place.
I don’t have to care about who said what or who lied.
The great thing about being free is I don’t have to explain anymore. I don’t have to complain anymore. I don’t have to be angry. I don’t have to waste another breath on unneeded words or think unneeded thoughts.
I can be free.
I can be welcomed somewhere that I am wanted.
I can be loved – and I mean truly.
I can be valued and appreciated and more, I can find the place and be with the people (or person) who, in my case, I can be “me” with them, and not have to worry about being judged.
I was thinking about the years I spent trying to be someone else.
None of this worked out for me.
I was thinking about the interactions which either hurt or crippled me.
And again, none of this helped me.
However, in the face of today’s “what now?” question, I can answer this by saying today will become yesterday and tomorrow will eventually become last week.
I don’t have to look back with anger. Like the man said in that eulogy, I can say to myself, may the memories that bring discomfort become memories that bring a smile to me later in my life.
I think this is the best way to handle the “what now?” questions.
At least, for today.
Tomorrow comes with its own scene.
And me, well?
I just want to make that scene become the best one possible.
Maybe under the new morning sun, both high and hot, and feel the warmth on my skin.
Ya know?
The Written Addiction 