I wonder if we knew that someday, we would look back and say “these were the best days of my life.”
I wonder if we ever thought that we would look back at some of the hardest times and regard them as easy or worthwhile.
I think of it this way:
My worst day with you is still better than my best day without you.
This is true. However, I believe it is best for me to take this one step more.
And so, I will.
I agree that life is cyclical. I think that we all have our shares of ups and downs. This is life. As I have always said, no one gets out of this place alive.
No one.
So . . .
It’s time.
Since time is always moving or since there are no do-overs, then I have to say that now is the time to make things work.
“Make it happen!”
The one thing that I overlooked or missed the most about youth is the ability to heal or recover.
My get up and go got up and went much faster.
I used to heal quicker or get back up and dust myself off.
I do not endorse the idea that youth is wasted on the young. I think some young people have their dreams and aspirations intact.
I do not support that age is just a number. Youth is a feeling and age is a reality. Therefore, my reality shows that I have been around the sun a few times.
I have some scars and broken features.
I have gone, moved, lived, seen some things and, of course, I have wagered and gambled. Yes, you win some, and you lose some.
This is absolutely true.
No one can ride high forever. Dare I say this, no one is ever undefeated.
Even the undefeated lose from time to time.
Champions have losses too.
The only difference is that losses are relative and subjective. While some competitors might never experience a loss in their game, no one looks at their sacrifices.
No one sees their loss of blood or sweat or the hours they put in. No one recognizes the drive to perfect what they do. No one sees the endless hours of learning and improving, training, dedication, or the ongoing need to update thinking or shape and reshape their talents.
No, this part is always overlooked.
I admit that I used to look at some of the kids I knew when I was younger.
I would never admit that I saw them with envy above admiration.
I thought how lucky they were or more fortunate.
If I allow myself to be truthful, then I can talk about my lack of ambition or about my laziness.
After all, isn’t this a form of laziness?
Isn’t it lazy to accuse rather than be accountable?
I looked at some of the people I knew with contempt and resentment.
If I go another step further, I can expose the lack of belief in my ability. I can expose my fears of loss or failure.
No one wants to be a joke or laughed at.
No one wants to step up to the plate and swing and miss.
No one wants to strike out. No one plays to lose, — except, of course, those who play the game and believe they’re supposed to lose anyway.
No one wants to be a “LOSER” or be called one.
Trust me. I can say this for sure.
Or even further than I have gone to expose myself, there were kids I knew who dedicated themselves to their dreams. They trained and worked hard. They sacrificed, regardless of the times they missed their chances to be with friends.
No one sees this.
No one knows the lonesomeness that comes with the dedication to succeed and achieve your own best greatness.
No one sees the hours, up late, and overthinking the smallest mistakes.
No one understands the burdens of loss that try and summon the mind towards the depths of failure.
No one regards this or regards the heart it takes to rise up again and take another chance.
I remember the people I knew who would decline the “good times” or decline the parties and chose to stay home and work rather than go out.
I never saw their drive.
I never viewed the one ongoing truth, which is that perfection is never an accident.
Never.
In fact, I often regard an old billboard sign above the 59th Street Bridge which read the exact same way.
“Perfection is not an accident”
Yes, whether I will be regarded as a writer or at least, if I am writer, that is, or if anyone will ever consider me to be a “real writer,” then should my truth exceed my dreams and I find my success — I know that none of this will have been an accidental response to my request.
What were my best days?
There was one, above all.
I gave a presentation to which I assumed no one would like me or want to hear more.
I thought that my words would fall on deaf ears.
But I was wrong.
I held it together. I delivered my craft.
I acted like I was unmoved when I was in front of the crowd.
When everything was done, I went in one of the private rooms . . .
and I cried.
I cried hard!
I did not cry because I was sad or hurt.
But if you don’t know, then I guess you just can’t know how it feels to defy the odds or beat your own lies.
Yes, this was me.
Yes, I did this.
All of this would have been meaningless if I didn’t have you there with me.
I say this, even if you are not with me anymore, nor were you ever really “with me” to begin with.
But in my heart or as I saw it; I knew I had you on my side.
Nothing feels better than reaching your goal and surpassing your limitations.
Except, of course, beating your limits and having someone there to share this with.
I am not alone, per se.
And I am not who or where I want to be, at least not yet.
But I am working.
I have not quit.
I’ve just been delayed.
With, or without you . . .
The Written Addiction 