We all have our own moments when life is unfair. Then again, there are times when love is unfair. There are times when love is only short-lived, fleeting, or left by the wayside and truth reveals dishonesty.
This is hard but this is true.
Time is often unfair too and still, I admire this world we live in.
I do.
I love every piece of this place.
I love the sunrise and the sunset. I love the sky when the clouds are like feathers or spread out like white skeletons. I love the morning sky when the clouds are otherwise seen as the see-thru bones of angel wings, or like the cotton leaves of palm trees that stem from the branches of some dreamy paradise.
There is much to admire and appreciate. And despite the crazy times, the wars, or the conflicts, the news on television, or the political arguments that go back and forth, I know that there is beauty around me.
I can think of things like the memories we have that bring warmth to the heart.
Take this for example—
Take the honesty and purity of snowfall that fell while we were sitting in the classroom when we were little kids. Remember?
I remember running to the plexiglass windows in the classroom of my school.
I remember this well.
I remember the sight of the snow coming down. The snow was white and pure and falling in huge flakes. I remember the entire class ran to the window to see this.
I could feel the heat from the radiators. I can recall the teacher allowing us to have a few seconds of wonder before calling us all back to our seats.
All the kids let out a woah, or an ah, or an ooh, as if to punctuate the amazement of youthful purity.
I will never be in grade school again.
But this does not mean that the amazement or the purity has to stop.
There are times when life is tight, and the pockets are empty.
There are also times when life is caught in a stage of in-between. Life is not working or being aggregable. The heart is missing something.
There are times when I take walks or long drives in my car because my thoughts have been running around for hours, yet I have gone no place but crazy.
I think I look at things differently now. I think I have learned.
Or at least I hope I have learned something.
I hope the repetition of the past can rest for a while.
Maybe something new can take place.
You know?
I hope that I can stand on my own two feet.
I hope that I can find the dignity to recover or at minimum, I am a fan of the idea that there is still wholesomeness in this world.
Love still exists and conquers far more than we could possibly believe.
Fate is still alive and the heart of destiny beats repeatedly, now, and even after the hours of our death.
(Amen)
I see no point in denying our truths.
Admit to your feelings. I see no helpful outcome when we deny our blockages or the past intrusions which came along and left a scar.
Even in the awakening of truth . . .
Take, say, when we come to the moments of realization of breakups, or fights, or when life gives us separations; the world still is a beautiful place.
The sky at dawn might never take on the same appeal as if did in some of my memories.
The City will go through changes.
Landscapes will change and so will people, places, and things.
But beautiful is beautiful.
And beauty can never die.
I remember a eulogy that I will paraphrase.
May the memories of joy that bring you tears eventually turn and bring you warmth.
I like that idea.
Yes, it is sad to lose a loved one. It is hard to lose your companion or your best friend.
Of course, this is hard.
It is hardest when this person is still alive and only dead to you because life has changed and you have too.
It’s not the loss that hurts so much. It’s the part that this person will never come back or that things will never be the same. This is painful in the most unthinkable way.
I wonder:
Will I be this way for the rest of my life?
Maybe.
I am fine to be this person.
I am fine to be hopeful or a hopeless romantic.
I am fine to feel and think and I am fine to look around and see things to remind me that times were different. Love happened in my heart.
This means I am capable.
I see things . . .
I see the morning sky.
I see my early morning train as it comes from around the bend.
I see the sky when the first light comes on the scene.
I see the rainfall and think of quiet times or romantic times on days like this.
I enjoy the snowfall too.
I enjoy the warmth I could imagine on a cold snowy day, quiet, candles burning in my little apartment. And me, rubbing the legs of the woman I fantasize about.
These are good things.
I saw a sunflower yesterday.
I smiled.
It is not beyond me to be knocked down or humbled or set back to the beginning.
I get it. I have to start over.
I don’t need a million dollars. I don’t need to keep up with the Joneses.
All I need is a moment.
I need someone to look at without the discomfort of comparison to others before me or the worry of whether I am “enough” for her.
I would be fine to stand on the pier, like say, somewhere that people fish without the care of what they catch.
I’d be fine to walk aimless, just to let my feet step down, hard and fast.
I like to walk this way to remove the emotional tension and free myself from the acute bondage of a self-centered turmoil.
It’s not real . . . the deception of our perception.
Or better—
Let me take my keys and get in my car and drive down a long highway.
Music playing.
The road is otherwise empty, and the sun from the east is coming up behind me.
This is beautiful, like the way “her” eyes used look when she’d look back at me.
The world is a beautiful place.
Look for this.
Look for the things that put warmth in your heart.
Hold it
and never let go.
No matter what.
The Written Addiction 