And Oh, About That Thing

Today is a new day and yes, we made it this far.
Sometimes, I’m not sure how we made it like we did, and other times, I often wonder how much further until we reach our goal.
But then, I must ask, what is the goal?
A big house?
A nice car?

I listened to an interview of a man who lived to be 101 years old. I listened to him say how his dreams have changed. He doesn’t want the same things anymore.
And I get that.
No, I really do.

I don’t need to be cool or tough anymore. I don’t need the attention or the accolades. I don’t need the bright lights or to be on stage, as in “dead-center,” and I certainly have no desire to run around, crazy as ever.
Then again, I believe that same as my goals have changed, so has my version of going crazy. For example, when I was a younger man, and if you had asked me about the perfect night, I would assume that nothing good happens before midnight.
If you ask me now, staying out until midnight sounds crazy to me, at least not without a good reason. And to add more, if you would have asked me about being alone on a Friday night to stay home and rest on the couch, that idea would have been crazy to me.

Then again –
I never did well in the stir of absolute silence. I never did well on my own and I certainly never did well without the distraction of other people, places, and things.

I was a runner, to say the least.
I ran from me. And I ran from you.
I ran from the truth, and I ran from the silence because one can hear nothing else but their true thoughts—and I was always too afraid to address these things.

I was afraid to learn that my insecurities were all true. I was afraid to find out that my biggest fears were true, as well, and that somehow, I was always going to be on the outside looking in.
I was afraid that I would be unmatchable, and that somehow, I was off-center or off-key.
I worried that I had a challenged way of thinking, and like a mind delayed with emotional handicaps, I was afraid that I was weak and incapable of living a real life. Therefore, no one would love me, fully, nor would anyone accept me, completely. And you?
Someone like you, as beautiful and as sweet, and someone as amazing and life altering would eventually see my truths, and just like that, you would be gone too.

I never saw myself as hideous nor handsome. I never believed that I could be extraordinary, nor did I ever assume that there was anything extraordinary about me.

I saw myself as mute, or in the middle, as if to be painfully average and regular, which meant that nothing about me could ever stand out or be spectacular.
And then what?
What would happen to us if you found out that I was only weak or boring?
What would happen to my life when you realized that there was someone else out there, far better and far more attractive than me?

I assume this is why I settled as often as I did. I assume this is why I ran away as much as I have.
I assume this is why I would settle on treatment that was less than I deserved. And more, I assumed this is why I tolerated the jabs or abuse. I assume this is why I would allow myself to follow the leader or go with the flow.
This is why I never argued when people assumed I was stupid, or called me a loser, or worse, this is why I never battled back or stuck up for myself—because in all sincerity, I was who I believed I was.
This is why nothing hurts worse than being called ugly by someone who you consider to be more beautiful than the sun.
Nothing hurts worse than being called stupid or a loser by the only person who you thought believed in you.

There is a greatness, however, which comes in the likeness of certain people. Like angels sent directly to us, to show us that we are more than we assume. Then we use the words ‘soul mate,’ and these are the people who are delivered to us, to prove that we are capable and, of course, when the light is lost and the world is dim, angels like you can shed light on the unbelievable truth that yes, we are beautiful. Even more, we are far more beautiful than our understanding can comprehend.
Only one person can deliver this message.
Your soul mate, that’s who.
But still, we spoil this and we argue, we fight, and we destroy something that was beautiful and Heaven-sent.

Today is a new day. The clouds have lifted, and the week-long rain is behind us.
At least the rain is gone, and the sky is clear today.
And that’s all we have, for now.

I am delayed because I am not well. I am physically sick, which is fine and part of life. I am tired, and unlike my usual self who can survive (somehow) on only a few hours of sleep, I am tired and weak.

I am uncomfortable when my routine is interrupted. Or, more, I am uncomfortable when life changes and the changes are still unfolding, in which case I have no idea about what’s on the way.
I often think about the days when I was young and still in school. I think about how the teachers used to send letters home to my parents — I always knew that something was in the mail.
Sometimes, life can be this way. Something is in the mail and sooner or later, life leaves you no choice but to deal with that we have in front of you.
Good or bad, like it or not, life is not waiting for us.
Life is happening and the sands of time are flowing quicker than we think.
I just don’t want to be late again or have the school send another note home, if you catch my drift.

My achiness makes it hard to sleep and the emptiness in my stomach makes me uncomfortable. I don’t know if I can eat and hold my food down, or should I eat something bland and see what happens?
I guess we’ll see.

I come to you, once more, humbled by life and humbled by my choices.
I come here with my hat in my hand and the other hand on my chest.

I have no idea why we fight or why people say mean things to the person they love.
I have no idea why people who want to be so close can drive a wedge between them and push each other further away.

I have heard that fear is the culprit.
But, do you know what?
And I apologize for the language, but fuck fear.
Am I afraid?
Yes. I am.

But what has this done for me?

Has my fear helped me to find love? Or has being afraid taught me that love is dangerous?
And yes, while the heights are high, the lows are unthinkable and bottomless, like a pathway to hell with no chances of escape or redemption. Love is the bravest emotion of all.

Why do we fight?
Why do we degrade ourselves or say things out of anger?
In all fairness, the fact of the matter is our ego is the problem.
Our addiction to our past and our cognitive distortions are afraid that, somehow, we are going to be hurt again, or be the fool, or that our biggest fears are true. In my case, I resort back to the angriest conclusions which are that I am nothing more than unlovable or wrong.
Ego kills . . .
I know this firsthand.

To be clear, I don’t want to fight. But I have old fears and old tendencies that tend to blow up my spot. This happens and next, I drown in the fears that you are going to unlove me and walk away —so, in the quest to be invulnerable, I find that people look to dominate the conversations with insults to keep on top or stay in a better position.

Why do we fight when fighting is the last thing we want to do?
Do you know how many times I have argued and a voice in my head wanted to scream out and say stop this . . . kiss her and say you’re sorry.
Tell her you’re afraid.
Fuck your ego and confidence.
Try honesty because if she is the other half of your heart, she will make the sparks fly and you will see the light again.

I suppose that we are not living in a perfect world because in a perfect world, we can express our feelings without fear. And we can talk, like two adults and acknowledge each other, and we can console each other, and more, we can forgive one another.

Fuck you, ego.
You do nothing for me but keep me in the swamps and drown me in the emotional quicksand of fear and insecurity.

Let me take off the mask.
Let me remove the disguise and let me be clear as an open sky.

I’ve said some things.
And I apologize for every unhealthy thing that I have said.
I am sorry for all that I have done and for anything else that may have hurt you or opened an old wound.

And yes, I mean this with all my heart.

A word can be more destructive than a blade and cut twice as deep.
Some words can never be taken back and while an apology can be heartfelt, pain still hurts.
I understand this.
I am still healing too.

It hurts when someone you love and when someone who knows you, inside and out, uses your fears against you, just to hurt you back or win an argument.

I have done this.
I have no defense.
While I can say that I am not alone, this is not about anyone else or you or your apologies. This is about me facing the truth, which is that I have made mistakes, and I can say that I will make more mistakes.
I am human, so it would be a lie to promise something that I cannot do.

I don’t want to lie.

I just want to feel better.
And currently, I really need to feel better.

I hate being sick.
But more, I hate being sick without you.

My love.