Wishes and Wants: A Frank Letter

I'm not even going to preface it: I wish you hadn't.

I wish you had never said that you loved me. Not even once. It would have been better to not have heard that, than to have had you say it and then take it back.

I asked you – and multiple times – if you meant that. I asked you to tell me if you ever changed your mind; I can't chase you every day wondering if you would be brave enough to stick around or not. I simply couldn't.

Not even three months into it all, you said, "Oh, well I haven't thought that in a while now...." when I reached out for a connection from which you had long since receded. Now, here we stand, months later, and you try to play the song on strings that have worn thin and snapped.

How dare you?

To text me, to hug me, to tell me you want to visit me and even be bold enough to do so. Then, to disappear as quickly as you attempted to reappear. It is almost laughable when you look at me, startled that I don't believe in what you are offering.

Yes, I did outright ask you to think about the relationship/friendship/whatevership we have and to get back to me if you ever made up your mind. I'll be surprised if I hear so much as the wind in reply.

Not that it makes it any easier when I have to deal with the leftovers. Devotion I could have given to an amazing friend, only for you to take as large a sip as you can and then move to another flower.

I wish you had never said it, but more than that, I wish there wasn't a part of me that still believed you. I'm clearly out of my mind to do so when you continue to not just fail, but to take what I've given you and wound me with it.

Only a person like you could attempt to wound me with my own heart.

So yes, I'm closed. Yes, you will have to earn every bit you get from me. I feel deeply for the ones that come after you, but maybe you've done them a service because at least if there is someone that comes after you, I won't have to waste my love on you anymore.

A Little Hope

I've been reading articles at Julien's site for a few months now. In fact, it prompted me to start my journey into being a minimalist. Recently, he decided to start posting Homework assignments. If you want, you can read through all of them here, but the one that got me was Assignment VIII. The assignment was this:

This week’s homework is a part of a practice of detachment. Throw out or give away the most important item you can stand to get rid of. To tell you the truth, I’m not even sure what I’m going to be doing this with. It’s a threatening thing to even think about– to get rid of something you actually like but don’t need– but in some cases, it’s necessary. You’ll flinch when you’re about to throw it out. So it may be easier to just choose someone to give something away to. But even that, in a way, is copping out. Whichever way you choose to do this, get rid of something significant.

I chuckled at the thought of getting rid of things that are nice, but not needed; I'm a minimalist. I'm always cycling through the things I own or have and asking "Do I need this?" "Do I really want this?" and handling them accordingly. It's been my thing now for a long time and I don't see myself going back anytime soon.

Fast forward a few weeks and a few experiences later and I dig up this thought: what if I deleted this journal? My heart skipped beats. Not just one or two, but five. My breath caught. I became teary-eyed. It's not just history, although I'm sure that's the reason most people would be upset about losing their journal, I have another thing. A deeper thing.

It started in fifth grade. I picked up a few pieces of paper and I stapled them together and that was the beginning of two decades of journaling and writing down my feelings. There are many reasons that I've gathered over the years as to why I journaled, but there are three things at the core of my reasons and they hit hard that day:

1. I wanted to be remembered.
2. I wanted to be respected and understood.
3. I wanted to be accepted as-is.

That started my path. I tried to find these things in people -- family and friends alike -- and realized at an early age that, because I'm a guy, I'll just have to settle for a piece of paper for the things I wish. I had emotional awareness and sensitivity that was considered to be abnormal for a male in general and definitely for one of my age; I'm still considered abnormal by a large margin in those respects.

As I grew up, I made friends. I continue to make friends; I'm a likable guy. The thing is, even among my closest friends, there are limits. Things that can't be said. I'm so analytical and so emotional at the same time it can be a bit daunting. I think and feel in ways other people don't. I've had people straight up walk away from me when I told them how I feel about something that makes me sad. I won't even begin to think about the things that people think when I'm angry or depressed. In short, I learned that I have to hide a bit of myself away in order to have anyone decide to stick around.

Because of this, I find myself hanging on to a journal some twenty years later. I truly feel that I need it.

I suppose you thought that would be the end of things, but it isn't. My heart yearns for more. I want a relationship where I can be all of myself without fear with another human being. I talked to someone about this a bit yesterday. 

We talked about the truth and I said that all truth hurts. I repeat: all truth hurts. I remember being in the car with Daniel, John and Sven as we rode home from John's home in Virginia in fall of 2005. About a quarter of the way through the trip, someone said that they loved me. The thing is, I could feel that they meant it. That hurt a lot. It takes a special kind of person to be able to understand that pain. To have years upon years of doubt in the ability for someone to see you and truly love you as you are without modification and then to have someone start to peel up the smallest bit of it... It is very hard to describe to anyone and harder to understand if you haven't felt it before. I sobbed until my head hurt and, thankfully, everyone in the car was able to understand that feeling that day.

Why do I say truth hurts? Because exposure to truth most times requires restructuring in our hearts and minds. If you know anything about restructuring, then you know that there is a destruction process and a creation process. Destruction is painful because you have to step out and dissemble a structure that you've depended on for one thing or another for a long time. Creation requires you to take out a hammer and nails and beat things into place until they stick. Those processes hurt.

I had to pause during this conversation just like I've had to pause during this writing because, in sum, this is hard stuff to write. Hard.

I thought about the times I've written in this journal that I find myself wishing for the relationships I see in so many cartoons. The friend I was speaking with said that it's a fantasy thing and that's the curse that any fantasy fan bears; we want something that isn't real. My problem is that the thing I want is both real and possible and there is no reason that I cannot have that thing. When I watch a movie with people with superpowers, I enjoy them, but I do not yearn for them. My heart doesn't ache to be a wizard or a telekinetic, but give me an episode where one friend sacrifices for another or where you just see two people being loyal to each other in the small details of life or two people that are able to be real and honest and open with each other no matter what and they know that, whether it's bad or good, their friend will always be there for them, no matter what... Give me that and I tear up every single time. I even become jealous of those characters. Not in a way that makes me hate them, but in a way that makes me question, "Where is my part?"

I started to tear up thinking about how many "I love you"s I have to ignore. It doesn't mean a lot coming from most people, especially when I know that the phrase these days usually means:

• I like you a great deal
• I find you entertaining at the moment
• The idea of having sex with you -- once or multiple times -- is a pleasing one
• I'm happy that you do things that I want you to do
• I enjoy the benefits that your talent/knowledge brings to me
• Thanks for being an open ear
• Thanks for relieving my boredom and/or loneliness
• I want you to do things for me in the future, so I'll make this emotional comment here as a deposit

I want that person that enjoys my being as it is. I don't want to need this journal all of my life. I want to be able to speak my feelings without fear of people disappearing or condemnation. I know it's hard. I know it's rare. I also know that rare and hard means that it is possible. Having something of that quality in reach is hard to bear when all you are really asking for is for someone to really love you back. I don't want to be jealous of cartoon characters...

At the same time, the alternatives are frightening. I could take a step out and choose to trust and believe. To jump from the height of Angel Falls and believe that the wings of love and friendship will sweep me up. To fight through the process of digging and developing that friendship, but...

What if this person that I seek really doesn't exist? What if I never find someone that understands me, respects me, and accepts all that I am without conditions other than God and these digital pieces of paper that I write on?

You think these feelings and fears go away, but they never do. They just grow inside of you. We're grown-ups, though. We have work to do and bills to pay and lives to lead and I get all of that, but my heart needs tending, too. This is just the result of one person dealing with this two decades later (and every year before this one) and finally willing to climb this mountain again just to see what happens.

I want to tell you that I cried last night at this thought for a while. I haven't shed tears in a long time, but even at 30, this gets to me. I'm not even asking for a lover right now. That would be nice, but I'm fine without that type of relationship. I'm just looking for that particular friend everyone seems to have but me. They may be lurking around the bend waiting for me to ask the best of them to show itself forth. This is that moment. I want the rarest of things and I can't be sated with other things. That could be rough on one hand, but on the other, it might be nice to not feel like I have to write here when my feelings are the darkest. How much better would it be if I had arms to hold me and a shoulder to cry on or an ear to yell in and know that those same arms and ears will be there after the storm ends to watch the sun rise with me?

A lot better, if you ask me.

Bereavement

It started with waking up. Or rather, before then.

It was an idyllic moment. I held you in my arms and I took you in as fully as I could. It was a late afternoon. The scene was beautiful and breathtaking and endless. I drank in every detail; your smile, the wind playing about in your hair, we laughed and tumbled a little in a patch of grass near a tree. It felt like hours. I could feel the warmth of the day -- of you -- on my skin. I couldn't have imagined a happier moment if I tried. The one I wanted most to be with was with me and we were enjoying each other. Not doing any particular thing, but just being present in that moment together. It was perfect.

Then I woke up.

It is dark and rather early -- right at about 6:30 am -- and, most importantly, not there. Not with you. It wouldn't be so bad except for the fact that this thing I saw is outside of my grasp and it could never be inside of that grasp no matter how far out I attempt to reach. In some ways, I'm almost sure it would be forbidden me even if it weren't.

The hard part of it all is having to relive all of those feelings as if it were the first time.

All of them.

It drains all of my strength. It's so random a turn and only hours before work with no other thing to occupy me so early in the morning. Why did this even happen? I'll spare myself digging through the related questions tonight; this, as it is, is almost the limit of what I can handle in that respect.


I spent the day doing everything I could think of in order to just focus through the feeling; I don't want to fight or ignore it, but I have to function. I have to work. QA has to get done, I have projects that have tasks that have deadlines that have paperwork. I play a song or two and there you are again. That same idyllic figure. Gosh this hurts. I don't want to deal with this right now, but what other time is there. So I try to manage.

I got a lot of things done while fighting wave after wave of desire to collapse into a sobbing heap at my desk and this goes on for seven or so hours. I finish two QA projects and a book I started yesterday; it took me over three weeks to finish this book and it had less pages.

I play the games. I try not to be angry even though people are working my nerves and things around me seem to be all manner of madness.

I'm still at the edge of the urge to weep. I feel bereaved, but it's something I never had. What do I do with feelings like this.

Avoiding Girls

It never gets easier for me to deal with things like this. The fact is, my guy friends and girls will always make me nervous. It will never be comfortable for me. I have been more open to this sort of thing at one point, but I think that openness and calm is pretty much a dead thing now and that because.... well, things like this never go well. Not for me, anyway. I could rehash the whole thing as if it were happening in front of me right now because that's how vivid the memory is, but I don't because I'm not one to ruin the potential happiness of someone else and I won't because I'm sure the people involved feel badly enough that those things ever happened to begin with and that should be enough.

It's just that, at those moments, I would rather be elsewhere than be hurt in that particular way. Even if I am a superhero to some, every one of them has pain thresholds and limits to what they can bear. It's something that, after a few rough experiences with it, I've chosen to walk away from and avoid.

I want to say I'm sorry for feeling that way and reacting as I do, but it makes too much good sense to apologize for walking away when unspeakable pain is my only other option.

Gets You Every Time

It never fails that, every single time I watch that sailor moon fight with Beryl, it moves me to tears. Of course, every time I watch, I end up watching another two or three times.

The climax is always at the same part and the line there is simple, "I do need all of you; please, help me..." After this statement, the heroine gathers the strength to defeat the bad guy (or evil queen in this case).

It's always that line: I do need all of you; please, help me.

I want that life and there are so many moments that I feel that this one thing -- this bond they have -- is so unattainable. It's just out of my grasp. In the wavering to and for amid so much, well, falsehood, I want to believe I have friend that I could count on to lend me strength like that. People that, no sooner do I say, "...please, help me..." I see hands reaching.

I've tried to be that and, while I'm not perfect or even near it, I've been the guy whom everyone feels they can borrow from when they need it most whether money, a listening ear, an open hand... anything. I don't mind that; in fact, it is a joy to me.

The thing I want and can't seem to get is what I give. I suppose most people don't think I need it; I seem well so I must be well. That couldn't be further from the truth and it seems to be a general trend that this is something about which it is better to remain blissfully unaware.

I want the magic that I know friendship is. In a sense, I want the bond I see between these anime people. Some of my getting choked up is seeing the scenes but a lot of it is also being saddened with the reality that this is something I'm unlikely to experience in the way they do. It seems so much fuller. So much more whole. It would never cross their minds to wonder if the people around them will be anything less than loyal and loving. I want that assurance. That lack of doubt. Even a little less.

The good thing is that, long ago, I learned that faith -- and not sight -- is the thing I must live by. That said, a man has only so much faith to his measure. How long do I walk with a surety of what I don't see before it clearly appears to me. At the same time, faith demands that I never get more than a glimpse of the object of my faith.

Is that my doom? Will I never know any more of friendship than the moments I wish for you to never part from me? The parts where we laugh and have fun and entertain and have the deep meaningful conversation? Is there more somewhere? Can I have that bond for which my heart beats? That I crave? It seems that I must not. Can not. Will not. Not in full. Not completely. Not now.

So where does that leave me? Probably with sappy cartoon clips and a longing for bonds that only fantasy has the power to create. A picture. A form to hold in mind, but never the concrete reality of those imaginings.

Even so, I dream that I will enjoy that fellowship one day even if that day isn't during my earthly lifetime.

Seeking Balance

The last few weeks have been very trying in almost every sense of the word from professional life to personal matters. This weekend in particular was rough in dealing with it. I'm trying to get balanced in some ways. I'm just... tired. Annoyed with so many things...

Little things.
Big things.
Everything.

So now I'm stuck in this place where I simply must tell people that I don't want to be bothered with them about anything. I don't want to be nice, or helpful, or thoughtful, or kind at all. I need to be left alone. Probably for a long while, but I'm not sure yet.

I'm pretty sure it's a clear sign that I need to be more in balance when I am irritated by every little thing and nothing gets resolved. Maybe I'm neglecting my need for solitude (and as I type this, I have a friend in my room which means I'm not alone right now either). I don't know what the reasons are and I'm close to the point of not caring at all, but not quite there yet. That brings me to this post. Yesterday, I was walking with a friend and talking and in the middle of that, some things came up.

• i can't be a superhero because superheroes never take a thought for themselves. at all. no selfishness is allowed.
• i don't have to be a superhero to be kind or helpful
• i care too much about everything that happens around me

While I was shopping for jeans and other things in the mall, I thought about these ideas and their applications and I decided that maybe I should forget kindness for a while. It didn't sit well. Then I thought again about what's bothering me and decided to allow myself even the more childish end of my thoughts and here's what I came up with:

• i'm angry. very angry.
• i'm angry because i listen to people and their issues constantly and i'm not often listened to when i need someone to listen.
• i'm angry because the things i am concerned about are not a priority to people that are supposed to be my friends.
• i'm angry because the house is messy and my protests are being ignored or neglected at best.
• i'm angry because i always find myself having to walk alone when i need someone to walk with me most.
• i'm not angry at all, i'm just hurt and that's a lot worse than being angry. angry goes away after a while. hurt lingers and gets rooted and has to be extricated in a particular way that is usually very uncomfortable.
• no matter how i try to communicate with people about my feelings, i can't make them understand. i either say too little or too much and either way, i'm always asked to explain myself multiple times. context doesn't matter because people don't pay attention to it or most things going on around them as much as i do and even if they do, they don't recall it as well as i do.

All of this is going somewhere, but I don't know where that is, but I do know that it needs to be balanced when I get there. I don't need to have even amounts of everything, but I need to have just the right amount of things to keep me upright and that's very hard right now. I always feel on edge these days. Always like I'm standing at the end of a cliff. Always one moment away from breaking in a way that I feel won't be reparable.

I just hope that things don't become as bad as I've dreamt if it happens.

Walking Wounded

Maybe I'm a superhuman. Maybe I can fly. Maybe I will rise above all of the petty annoyances surrounding me, but more likely, I'm going to just punch a hole in it.

It's always the little things that get to me and it's always the little things that say so much about who and what and how people really are. I'll just start from today and go backward a while and see where I end up.


This morning, after I decided that I was going to work today at 10AM and not 9, I have a knock at the door. Phillip just wanted to sit and talk. I really didn't want to, but I opened my door and let him talk. The first thing he does is apologize about the clippers. Let me give you a side story about the clippers.

ABOUT THE CLIPPERSYesterday, as I get off the bus from work, I see Phillip leaving. He flags me down and I walk over (I really did just want to ignore him, but then again, when it comes to it, I can't be the ass I want to be at times) and asks me if I have a screw for a pair of clippers as he has dropped a screw down the drain. I look at the passenger's seat and I notice the clippers I had purchased only two weeks ago in the seat. I asked him if those were the clippers I had purchased and he confirmed they were. I walked away without another word.

He continues on with this thought and that he's had about everything under the sun, most of which is centered on himself... as it always is..., and then he lets me know he's finished speaking at which point, I ask him to take me to work. Mind you, I tried to ask Rickey, but I knocked and he didn't respond although he was changing music every few minutes. I assumed he wanted to be left alone. He texted me later asking why I didn't just open the door and walk in and I explained that I get mad when people do it to me, so I avoid doing it to other people.

What a novel fucking concept.

I get to work and I meet up with my boss and we chat. While I'm thinking about all the new data and writing emails and things, I process what's happening everywhere else. Honestly, I just see what's in front of me and it would crush a normal soul. I guess I don't have a normal one.

I'm watching people disappear and, for the most part, I'm letting it happen. The (very) small surprise is that it is happening almost effortlessly and a lot of it doesn't even require action on my part. It's not even because I'm ignoring or neglecting as much as I am who I am and that pushes as many people away as it draws in. In some cases, it's the very same thing that drew people in to begin with.

I'm thankful for the experience of others and having been as open as I have been and I keep moving forward unafraid of being alone and knowing that I find myself open to being accompanied. It feels neither good nor bad. It simply is.

I find myself more angry with every time I walk into the kitchen lately as well. I discussed this last week. The week before. A few nights ago. Last month. Last year. Two years ago. Different people, different scenes, one message: if you mess that up, please clean it. I like the house being clean. It upsets me when it is messy. I don't like seeing the sink full of dishes when everyone in here is legal drinking age. Please clean your dishes. Don't keep them in your room. I understand that you're tired, but if you put forth the energy to cook, you can clean the mess you made. Clean your mess.

Am I being unclear? Unfair? Unreasonable? I don't think so. On any level. I don't understand why this continues. Maybe it's because I haven't punched anyone in the face. Maybe because I haven't run about roaring angrily that things need to be done. I don't understand what needs to happen. I want to say that it doesn't matter or shouldn't, but the fact is that it does. My lease is up in March, but I shouldn't have to deal with nonsense until then. It's not that hard to just do the effing dishes. Of course, if I walk into the kitchen and start cleaning, I make people nervous and then there's all the "are you okay" questions as if they can't make a clear line from what's going on to my feelings about it. Just an aside: people that feign ignorance about why I'm upset or angry when they are clearly the cause piss me off. The only thing that makes me more annoyed is when people are genuinely clueless and thoughtless about how their actions affect other people. So do I wait until the lease is up? Hell no, but what to do in the meantime? It's a mixed bag. Most times, I just do what needs to be done and stay in my room, but lately I feel like doing more than that and it will not be pretty when it happens.

Most days, I'm annoyed no matter how the day goes because there's the underlying set of things that never seem to change in spite of my best efforts and I refuse to accept them as they are, so things are about to get heated. I'm more than okay with this because at the end of the day, I have all that I need to be okay on earth and that does not include people that are about bullshit and nonsense.


I talked to Men about being taken for granted. Seems to be happening a lot around here. After that discussion, I made a decision. I went around the house and boxed up all the tupperware excepting a few pieces and donated all of the dishes to the Goodwill. Yes. The. Fucking. Goodwill. I want someone to complain so I can just flip the fuck out. I don't care at this point. If I didn't run into a sink full of dishes every day, I wouldn't have donated them, but then when I know dishes aren't being done and you try to dip into the extra dishes instead of cleaning your mess? Hell no. Hell. To. The. No.


There's a fight. A rebellion on the outskirts of my city.

Bring it the fuck on.

Modified

Every now and then, things connected to us are modified. That can be difficult to navigate. Today is one of those days for me. Not knowing how else to feel, yet being requested not to fall into this puddle of emotion or that, I can only come to the conclusion that I should continue to feel as I did about this before and monitor how those feelings evolve with that modification in place. There's the normal steps I suppose; compression, expansion, evolution, conclusion, and forward motion. I'm thankful for the love and that dash of honesty, hard as it may have been to give or take. There's more to the story and there always is. In the end, I got what I prayed for in a way and on a similar vein, I spoke truth into the world not knowing the effect of doing so. Truth is a chaotic force; you never quite know the full result of speaking it when you do, but speak you must. In the end, tomorrow will come and I will love just as much as I did before; not good at loving less. On the other hand, it will be an interesting adventure to monitor the evolution of expression. I am who I am and I've never been anything less or false. Such is my nature and that part I am content with.

Sigh...

Why is it that I can never hold back the tears whenever I watch this?

Every single time I get to about 0:58, tears start forming. What is the power this video contains? What part of my heart does it speak to? I don't understand and I never have, but my heart knows. My spirit knows. The parts of me that cannot speak out know and know well and they react every time.

I wish someone could understand how I feel so I could share it with them. I hate feeling so alone sometimes. Some people prefer that loneliness, but it is not my way to prefer being alone as to live in the reality that, in a lot of ways, my uniqueness causes a peculiar kind of loneliness. I am always surrounded, but not a part. My apartment dynamics show me that much...

I need a break, but on days like today, all I have are my thoughts.

The sad part is that none of these thoughts would last in the face of a single hug -- just as fog dissipates in the sun. That said, I have no access to one right now.

Some Times, Some Things

"Don't tempt me..."
Moments later
"Okay, tempt me."
Nope



Last night was interesting as I have a bunch of newness coming in the form of roommates and such. I helped move things for hours.

I've noticed that, when people come into my life and mention people, those people are drawn exactly to where I am. When those people mention people, they are drawn to where I am. I could list a pretty specific example, but I won't. Just know that my soul has a Siren's call built into it.

Star Children.
Indigo Children.
Rainbow Children.


Names are interesting things and so is most of life when I take it into account. My first name, where I was born,   the nature I contain. It's all a song still being sung, most of which people came in for at the end of the fifth chorus.


There's fewer things that are as hurtful as dishonesty. Today, I talked to a friend about something. They said they were fine the day before, but today I find out that it was because of fear that this was even said. I was as forthright as I could be about it all (which meant I was totally forthright) because I believe speaking the truth allows grace and healing to enter and fix situations. The situation was resolved in no time at all by just speaking the truth.

What hurts me, however, is that the dishonesty happened in the first place. No matter what the reason, the fact is that I could have really hurt this person without knowing or meaning to because they were too afraid to simply say, "That really isn't okay with me, don't do that please."

Just speak the truth. There's little, if any, reason not to. Ever.

Now, I'm upset. Yes, they know I'm upset because I told them. I told them exactly how I felt and then I came here to write it all down to process. When you have friends or lovers and anyone that wants to love you well, can I please just ask you for their sake and mind not to lie to them ever?! It's easier to love people and be there for them when they are honest with the people around them.

Honestly, I don't care how dark the feeling is or how well-founded the fear. I'm a being of warmth, light, and fire, but I've been in the dark too. I'm not afraid of your darkness no matter what can/can't describe it as. I will shine like gold on the sea of that darkness and love you in the middle of that shit because I'm built to endure and outlast darkness for eternity and eternity and eternity to come.


Finally, I'm feeling very feral today. Sharply so. I need my commune time. I miss people big time. I haven't even seen my sunrise today yet. I feel like half my day is missing. I'm hungry.


blagrrrrawrdammit.

About Brevity

This trip -- and most things I experience -- have taught me about loving.

This week has been one of deep appreciation and warning. I was doing high school, then college, then stabilizing my financial life, then finding a home and maintaining it and work and just growing up and just like that 14 years went by.

My uncle was happy to see me and after we talked about why I had my iPhone in hand at all times -- which took me a minute to explain and I wish he would have asked last night -- we talked about the next visit.

He said it is important that I come back and visit more often because I have ties here and it is my home. It would be rough going if I came up and wished I had been here to see my grandparents again.

He's right. Love is such a beautiful thing but our time to share it -- to burn our brightest light to those we love -- is brief at best and there is never a guarantee that I will have that person or people to love again if I don't give it all I have right now.

This is why I'm big on going hard if you're going to love someone. Never never never ration out your affections to people that are clearly worth it in your life. Some people do that. I know people that love me, but hold back from giving me their all and I can understand that, but we do not have any guarantee that I will always have you or that you will have me.

For my part, I'm making plans for a return trip, but I have much to ponder still about loving.

I suppose I will do as I have done and love hard even when it hurts, but the transience of us all cannot be overstated; our time left to love each other is completely unknown and I will always give my utmost and last to love you and let you know I do.

I hope you think enough of me to reach into the deepest parts of your love and give me the unbridled, unfiltered kind of love that (1) I crave and (2) I deserve to see if you think I'm worth loving at all.

If not, I'll give you this chance to back out. I'll let it be. I won't even bother you with it again.

On the other hand, if your love were a fire, I want you to burn white hot and if it consumes me, then let not even the ashes remain.

Languish

Sometimes, I will you were here to imprint on me what you may never communicate otherwise.

It consumes my late night thoughts. Like last night. I just sit awake. I ache to know and experience for myself, even for a moment, the full breadth of how you feel and sometimes I panic that it might be nothing at all.

I take a moment recollect it all from the starting line until now, but it just wasn't enough last night and now other slivers of unrepeatable thoughts have appeared to wage their own assault on my mind.

Even as I think this, I laugh at the irony: you will never suffer this torment. Never.

I wonder if, experiencing the depth of the water, you've decided to return to the shore. If this journey has lost value, power, interest.

I remember the talks, thoughts, logs, words and feelings spilled over miles of time and yet now, after many a wordless day, I crave knowing.

I do not know where this will take me, but I'll commit to it. Stay the course. Fight it out.

You know exactly why.

But for a moment last night, I didn't want to remember. The pain was nearly overwhelming. Do not read into that more than there is.

....

You have no idea how hard it is to be here without you today.

I want you to be here and near me.

Badly.

Trust & Anger

My spirit is angry and I can't even speak to my journal about the reason, but I want it to be known that he does not like what he sees.

Recently, things between Joe, Heather and I are becoming a lot closer. It hasn't been too long since the first time we all met face-to-face, but they're already kinda knit to me. It's nice. They're good for me. Joe in his silence, Heather in her speech and both in their love for me which has grown even more than I thought in so short a time. We're sharing depth and it's so early. I can't even imagine what the future will look like.

This is so common. People trust me almost completely for no reason. Maybe it's the gentleness of my soul (or it's ferocity at times). Maybe it's just my smile or my tendency to hug people at random. Kindness. I don't know, but people just seem to know that they can leave anything at all in my hands and it will be fine. I have never made full sense of this and I still fail to. It's my gift and I get it. I really do. At the same time, I'm floored every time someone gives their secrets, pains, joys, and dreams to me. I'm never worthy of it and I will never feel that I am, but they honor me in giving it anyway and I make sure to be the person they can continue to love and share that with as long as they wish to do so.

Gah. It's so beautiful, but so scary to be trusted. I'm scared because I know I am not perfect. Because I know I am only human. Neverminding my track record (no one who has told me a secret has ever had it repeated by me again. Ever. Not even in my journal. The only other person that knows all the secrets I know is God.), I always treat every ounce of trust as if I could break it at any time. I'm careful to a fault. Maybe two.

I guess what I'm saying is that, if you're reading this journal, it's because you trust me and I have given you access to this as trust in return. As you tell me the things that in the hands of another could be used to destroy or harm, I reaffirm my vow never to betray that which you give me and to treat it as the treasure it is.

That's right: your trust is my treasure and not even a black dragon compares to my ferocity in protecting it.

That said, pardon my absolutely self-effacing attitude as I continue to say/think/believe that I am not worth your trust and at the same time, I'm thankful that you continue to give it in abundance. I will do everything I can to protect the gift given me.


I'm thankful that Miranda and Polli texted me for a bit last night. I think I'm going to write something very specific for Polli. You know what? Things were rough, but I don't want you to regret that forever. I don't want you to even remember it forever. It is enough that I do to the degree of detail that I do, but that had it's time and place and we are closer now and that's all that matters right now. It's clear to me that you've learned much from that moment. I'm content. You be, too.


Finally, in the short exchange of about three sentences, I've managed to run Joe offline for an indefinite period of time. I don't think I even need to describe how I'm going to feel about that for the rest of the day until that gets talked out. Even more intensely so considering the love I've grown into for him lately. This day is not going well.

Today I Cried

We try to hard to be grown-ups. Bury the emotions, do our work, pay our bills, have a social life. None of this emotional nonsense. Especially the men. We have things to do. We need to have our heads on straight. Being a sobbing mess on your desk is not called for, helpful or needed. Neither are your stupid giddy bits of laughter over this and that. You should have some sense. It's just life. Things happen. You get hurt. Get over it already and stop crying about it. Dust it off. It doesn't matter. Move on already...

It was coming, though. I just sat at the desk and I cried for a while. Because things were lost. Because things were gained. Because I'm not alone. Because I'm discovering new and beautiful things and people and it isn't fair to them if I hide all of who I am because I got hurt showing it to someone else before. It's the beginning. The first tears of a man that has seen sunlight for the first time in many years. The releasing of an emotional creature that I have long kept locked up.

I felt all of my feelings today. All of them. Welling up and rolling like so many waves. I felt them and then I looked around for someone to hold, to hug, to just understand. I battled with the old lie that continues to plague me: you're alone. No one cares.

At that time, I saw your face. I felt your arms around me. You whispered and the tears came harder. I have the strength to fight the lie and I gain it from just loving you and learning to let you love me back. I'm thankful for you and I want to express that with my words, but tears come instead. I hope that you can understand my tears.

I'm trying to go back. To remember when it was okay for me to be openly emotional without a moment's hesitation or fear. You help me more than you know.

I reached out a bit, but no responses really. Miranda sent me a message, though. That was good. I think I'm done crying for now. I wish it were for a while, but I think this is the beginning of many days of this...

...and hopefully, that's ok. I need it to be.

Survey The Field

Talking to a friend of mine on Skype today brought some thoughts into sharp focus.

This is the aftermath of a battle and I am bleeding from everywhere. Still standing, yes, but bleeding. My work life is perfect; I walk in, I do what's in front of me. People know that if they ask me something, it's as good as done and if they ask me to pick up responsibility, it's done without a complaint. My rep is sterling there.

Home? Personal stuff? Akimbo is hardly the word for it. I just stopped caring about a lot of things and people for that matter because I started to get angry to the point of hating a few people. I cut myself off from my own emotions for a bit and just let life wash past me giving nothing and expecting nothing and that was fine, but that left the kitchen in disrepair and lightbulbs blown and my room a mess and book pages unread and so on.

Thinking about it, there's much that I need to eliminate, but I feel stuck and unmotivated with everything right now outside of work and the efforts I do make aren't as rewarding. It makes me wonder what the point is a lot of times and the events of just today remind me of what I spent so much time cutting my emotions off for. Truth be known, that cutoff was addictive and I'll miss it, but I have to get things in order and tend to these wounds.

Apathy that I exercised saps my motivation for doing almost anything when I'm not at work now. I can't do anything on my "Must-List". I dread getting out of bed every morning... This can't continue like this. Back to caring.

Depression

First: I like the new interface a lot.

Next: I'm tired of feeling alone.

I talked to Polli today, because I'm tired of bottling it all up and trying to just deal with everything. I was going to decide today whether or not we were going to be friends after today and it led to one of the longest talks we've had in a month.

It's in the back of my mind at all times. I'm surrounded by people, but no one is here. I have some relief at work and then I come home, I work on a few projects and then once those are done, I'm alone again. Just me, a book, some music, social media and the moments that move me toward bedtime.

It's not even that I don't want to be alone. I'm just tired of the outside not matching the inside. If I'm not surrounded by people, I can understand being alone; no one is here. On the other hand, having a home with people all over the place only a few feet away and still feeling the way I do makes no sense. I either want to be a part or be away or have them away. There's always the "here/there" dichotomy. It just makes me want to retreat to my room and avoid anything and you know what? I usually do.

One day, I'll reconcile this or it will be the end of me. At this point, I don't mind either way.

Sanquan walks up, asks me to open the door. Why when he could just ask me what he needs to ask? No reason. I oblige.

"Going to Kroger. Want stuff?"
"No..."
"Going to a movie later. You wanna go?"
"....*sigh* okay."
"You okay?"
"I don't know how to answer that."
"It's simple..."
Yes, because you have no problem with telling me how you feel even though you've neglected to talk to me about some of the most painful moments in your last week and usually avoid talking openly about your feelings on a regular basis...
"What you've just asked me is about as simple as writing the full theory of relativity on the end of a pencil."
"You're complicating it though, you could just..."
"I'll pass on this one."
"... okay, then.... Later."
"Later."
*closes door*

If I'm lucky, maybe I'll fall asleep before this movie. I don't think I'll deal well with going to the movies with people I've not heard a word from in weeks and then have to go with them somewhere and pretend to be social when I'm dying on the inside.

I'm going to go read this book now.

Fuming and Planning

Today I'm going to let you in on a secret. Something that is relatively well-known to people that know me well. Here's the secret: I plan.

That may not seem like a big deal to you, but my guess is that you underestimate that fact and that's is why you will end up being involved without being aware and that's fine. You don't need to be. That's fine.

For those that have experienced it, my plans can be very frustrating. Especially if I become angry. In the surface, I seem very erratic; my behavior seems erratic. I behave very different with no apparent reason and -- this is the important part -- no visible warning. This can be hard to deal with as my behaviors may include sudden, purposeful, intense silence. Withdrawal. Avoidance of topics. Total passivity on a subject I am normally passionate about. Abnormal levels of apathy toward a particular person/group of people's actions or life choices.

The offending person may have a clear sense of what is going on. Spiritually sensitive people may have dreams related to the offense.

I say all of that to say this: I am at the end of my rope right now and I am currently in the middle of some plans. Some of them are ridiculous, but this that aren't may be everyone's reality in a month.

That is all.

BTW: spare yourself some hurt feelings and avoid asking me about any of this if you read it. I've used this journal to talk about the things I'm mad over many tike and still I find myself dealing with them. Considering how many times I have spoken on the subjects in just the last 30 days, if you want to know, backtrack and guess. I'm done with repeating myself.

Access

I find myself becoming more frustrated at the amount of access I give people to my life in relation to how little I received reciprocally.

This journal is being followed and maybe read by 20. Two if them are anonymous and of the other 18 that aren't, there is so little access we might as well not even talk.

It bothers me because the information here us freely given and it is about the deepest parts of me. Things I don't say anywhere else to anyone else and people can just put this in a feed reader and have it as their side companion. That's how easy it is to know the inner workings of my mind.

Then there's you - the readers. What do I know about the parts of you that I write about me? Maybe the upper flake of ice on a ten-mile iceberg. Why am I doing this to myself? Eventually I'll remember that I wanted to share and help people and I still do but I'm one with giving myself to people that don't/wont/can't give themselves to me.

I don't know what that will look like or what form it will take except for one word loudly echoing in my mind...

Less.

Stress

This is Monday.
Monday.
I do not need this stress today.

In the last 24 hours, pending the normal sleep issues I had, I've had a full day with dealing with seemingly unending waves of nonsense. I don't know where all of this is coming from, but I'm kinda fed up with it now. I don't even know where to start.

Maybe it was the conference call at 9PM that started as a meeting at the library at 6PM and that the people that called the meeting ended up attending... 30 minutes later that scheduled.

Maybe it was the blowup over a status that I posted which was not related to the person that blew up at me. Are you serious? I wrote a very clear email to which they apologized, but couldn't we have avoided this in the first place by simply asking if the thing I had written was, in fact, referencing whatever they thought it referenced? What is this madness?

Maybe it was the constant editing of this contract all day. I mean, thank God I'm being paid more than I planned, but the site was due to launch today and to that end I have completed my part of the project and have tried to keep everyone on task and motivated as well as I could while making sure to tend to my own tasks in the project.

This particular thing, the project itself wasn't that hard, but getting all the parts in that I wanted was. The site can go live now and should be in full production in 9 days. During that time, I assigned AB and Polli some work. Some of that work is done, part of it is not done. Polli needed help on a part that he was working on which took him a while to finally ask me for help on.

Okay, fine.

I hadn't heard a word from him about where he was or what was going on with what he was doing. Communication is kind of important since we're not in the same place and, of course, deadlines have to be met since we are being paid to do this work. I try to understand that he's not necessarily in the best of working conditions and while I do, I can't imagine how that prevents the use of a mobile phone. Maybe he's busy and he'll get to me when he can.

Okay, fine.

I write him earlier today because today is the day the core of the whole project is due which includes a live site. I explain that communication is necessary, even if he doesn't have anything to report at the moment, because other things are happening that he needs to know about. We exchange a few other items. He explains that he would be over at the house a bit after work and we can work through his questions then.

Okay, fine.

Hours pass. I hear nothing. I see nothing. I look for emails, text messages. I see things that make me smile or over which I become upset, but nothing about anyone coming to my house, on the way to my house, or even not coming for some particular reason. I am still working through something to put on a page for this website I'm making. Finally, I text them to find out they:

1. had been off work for two hours
2. just arrived home
3. were taking a shower and would be over shortly after that

Sigh. Okay, it's not going to leave us a lot of time to work with, but I'll go with it. I'll just stay awake a little later. It's important enough that we get this thing done as soon as possible since it is now overdue, but it's whatever. We can work it in pretty quickly as long as we focus. So I'll wait.

Okay, fine.

Another two hours go by. It is getting late. I should sleep. I am hungry and frustrated that I could not freely order chinese food today since I bought everyone 40 acres and a mule last week.

[pause to call my younger sister as I was reminded via text that today was her birthday and that, although I thought she wasn't feeling well, she was and had commented that 'Marquis hasn't called me to tell me happy birthday..." She seems happy to hear from me and is talking my ear off about everything that's happened in the last week and the latest about the movies she wants to watch and all the other things girls her age like to talk about...]

I am equally frustrated that I have to figure out how to manage having ~$30 until the next time I get paid which, inadvertently, is also the day that rent is due. I wonder what the point of having anyone here is when I spend so much money keeping everyone here anyway (or at least I did this month). I think about the project, about our company site, about my job and the way things are so up-in-the-air all the time lately. I think about the silence. The vacation I can't take to see one of my closest friends and my dad and my grandparents. I think about how much exercise I've missed because I don't have the energy to workout as hard as I would like because I don't have the money to buy the food I need because I....

Still nothing. Not one word. Not a text. Nothing at all. I don't understand why I haven't heard anything at all after I've been typing away for hours and scanned like a million forms and had to deal with this annoying conference call. I send a message and I receive a response that they were detained. I don't mind that they were detained. I don't like that it happened because there is work to be done, but that doesn't get to me. What does get to me was that I have had the same conversation all day. Communicate with me please and let me know what's going on or ask me if things are going on. Is there any reason that I did not get a text saying "Oh, I'm not going to be able to make it because [...], but we can [...] instead if that's ok"? I can't think of one, but you know what?

Okay, fine.

Then I ask if they would bring their computer here since I believe it would serve them better as they would not have to contend with another person for net access as they attempt to complete the work that is several hours overdue to which they choose not to respond. I don't know what the reasons were and frustration, then anger started to flow in waves. There are many details that I am omitting because they are sensitive and I was trying not to use unfair means to gain leverage, but this is not ok and needs to not be ignored as an issue, but discussed so that resolution and understanding occur; it's not enough to know what happened and how to fix it if someone's feelings got hurt. However, if you fix the pain, a lot of times, the timeline for fixing things can be negotiated later. I attempt to calm down, but I am both angry and hurt at being so disrespected (that's how I feel as I remember this). I will try not to pass it on in the same way it was given to me. That said, I find myself at a deep loss as to how to form a proper response to this. That is to say, there are ways that I could respond, but I don't feel I are open to me yet; I try to be patient as great patience has been shown to me. I try to be kind as great kindness has been shown to me.

At the same time, I do not wish on any level to have that kindness taken advantage of.

Now I have a text on my phone asking Polli even came by yesterday. How much of this exchange do I communicate? I don't know. I don't even know how to respond. Maybe the day was overwhelming for him and he simply did not want to respond because he was stressed. Maybe he felt backed into a corner with everything. However, I have no way of knowing that because I'm not being communicated with or talked to. I have to fight between two sides now: (1) the friend and (2) the project manager. Each is clear about what they should do right now and I have to keep my balance and remember to remove emotion for all options for response.

This is so tiring.

Maybe, it's just being burned by one person after another only for it to get me nowhere. Where I am, there seems to be nothing but stress and headache and people demanding things of me at all times whether directly or indirectly, without a single sign of any form of appreciation or even understanding of what's going on. My family and they requests for money, some of my friends and their testing of my emotional and mental stamina, varying organizations and their constant requests and fluctuations as I try to process change orders and requests and projects plus...

When I get into modes like this, I suddenly desire great oversimplification of things; I want to drop FB completely and move to Google+, Twitter, and email among other things. I might even drop Google+ and Twitter and just go pure email and text, then drop my phone, too and go pure email. I just get tired of interacting with people and all their nonsense and having to deal with all of my issues, too, and mostly alone.