Missing the Phonebooth

I'm smiling and I'm fumbling with the right words with which to start. I tell you not to worry about it, but here I am, doing a similar thing, at 8:50AM on Saturday morning. The sun is already stretching its arms and I'm radiating energy from the center of my chest and I'm thinking about you.

The thought, just the thought, fills me with gentle warmth. You see, I had written about you before, but didn't expect you to arrive quite so early. I'm glad you didn't bother with the formalities this time around. I'm a world of excitement and wonder right now. The only thing you're missing is the 1950's tollbooth. How do I even begin?

Your touch is sunrise and twilight and all of the best parts of every season: the newness of spring, the warmth of summer, the gentle transition of fall, and the silence beauty of winter snow. You do so much without even trying and I will always fail to grasp how on earth I could be allowed to possess a gift so lavish. I just don't know.

It seems like not long ago, we were so peripheral to each other; I imagine that I was to you. Now.... dear God now. Now the sunrise is a text that says "Buenos dias" and the moon and stars make their way to the nighttime sky as you write "Hey you, how was your day?" This is littered with letters and conversations about everything from the mundane to the monumental. I don't know how you exist. You weren't supposed to. I even ranted about your not existing.

Then you walk, just as casually and boldly as you please, onto the canvas of my life with streaks of gold, green, and purple in your wake. You're so gentle. Regal. How do I even go on with these descriptions? Then you speak to me. You're brave, afraid, and so very life-giving. You're so loving and - somehow - you love everything about me. Did I mention that I don't get this?

Then there is the feel of you. The way you lace your fingers with mine. I can still feel them there. They belong here. Maybe I waited this whole time just to hold your hand. I am so okay with that. The way you are so sensitive to everything. You see so much without my saying it. I don't know if I have a person in my life that has your level of insight even when I give them a written guide.

You fill me with so much peace. So much more this than anything. Just peace. You are the least demanding person I know. You want me to be and grow and thrive and you place no demands on what that involves. You make me bolder somehow, braver, more alive. I was doing okay beforehand, but now I don't know how I even functioned. It's so stupid. So very stupid. So beautifully stupid.

The insane thing is, it gets better. It grows longer. I get to keep walking with you. Why on earth did you keep me waiting so long? It was hard waiting, you know. Do you know? I mean really hard. If there is a such thing as a next life or reincarnation, you need to catch me in grade school and make sure I never get out of your sight. Ever.

I'm already thinking about the letters we will write and that I will read while crying, laughing, thoughtfully pondering the response to as I draw on ages-old wisdom to talk to you about the contents. I'm smiling in front of the bedroom window and it is 7:26PM and it was a long day, but there's that envelope with your name on it and I feel energized to read and read and read and read and I forgot that I was supposed to eat dinner and I hug your letter as if somehow, if I wish hard enough, you would appear right then and there and....


...I love you so much.

Appreciated

This weekend was a bit of waking revelation for me. You see, I'd written something on my Facebook wall that read like the pictures below.

Writing these things, I knew they were true and felt them. However, I was given a rare treat in having these things demonstrated to me this weekend.

First, I received a visit from my friends Josh and Christa. After not having seen them for months, we spent hours together laughing and talking and working on projects.

That night, I went to Elaine's house after not being there for months. No loud crowds this night; it was a calm evening. I sat there not wanting to remain there too long, but soon shook that off as person after person asked me, "How and where have you been?"

You know what? They really wanted to know.

It was mind-blowing. I sat there and just took in their genuine appreciation for my being there with them. Not that they were acting as if I were royalty, but they were intent on loving me and I could feel it. I basked in that for hours. Three of them. At the end of it, they asked me to stay just a little longer and when I couldn't, Chris comes to me.

He keeps people at arm's length and has an anxiety disorder and doesn't like being hugged on very much.

This man hugs me and in the most emotional tones I've heard these words, he says "Don't be gone so long."

I don't have words for the high this put me on. I really don't. I also talked to John that night. Today, at work, BJ called to say he loved me and hoped I was having a good day.

This is where I start looking around at my life. The only place this genuine appreciation for my connection to people doesn't exist is my home. The old saying is "Familiarity breeds contempt". That may be true. James, in his grief often... bruises me. I can't even begin to speak of Morgan. He's done more damage than he can fathom and he's unaware of it. Not because I haven't mentioned it but bc he can't understand it; I imagine from his point of view, it's just progress toward other things but he doesn't see just how sharp the pain from this is.

In any case, having tasted this one small sip of being so loved and wanted, I want more. I don't know if I can even stay at my home because I want it so much and I refuse to force it from people; I want it willingly given. If I can't have it that way, I do not wish it at all and bc of this, maybe I should move.

All I know is that I want to be where I'm appreciated and loved as much as I appreciate and love. I, at the very least, want to feel I am worth that effort. When I'm home – especially in certain settings – I feel neither.

This will change. I have spoken.

Collateral Damage

injury inflicted on something other than an intended target; specifically : civilian casualties of a military operation

Let me tell you a story. In the story is a boy and a girl. It just so happens that this girl is very much into this guy and, as people are wont to do, she told him so. He echoed this feeling back to her, possibly not sure that the feelings were fully his own, but swept into the feelings all the same. At that moment, she looked into his eyes and saw the future full of hope and possibility.

He would one day say that no one knew him better than this one he'd found. He would say she was his salvation from a dark time.

They would say a lot of things, but they would find out later that they didn't mean them equally.

One step at a time, they strode along the path of life. They got matching tattoos, they got married, they had a child; in short, they were joined in the way that only those three particular words can join people. Those three words have caused people more pain than crucifixion.

They continued walking along this path, forged by this thing they labeled as love as far as they could go. Then one day something happened: said the one to the other, "I don't love you, anymore." Shock. Dismay. Confusion. Even more so when it was explained, "Not that, I don't love you, but just not that way."

From there, everything was a haze. What did they mean? Why would they say this? The questions had been asked and the moment had been set in stone as far as the one was concerned. Said the other, "It's not that I lied to you, it's that I didn't know."

"Did you ever love me?"
"I suppose, but it just hasn't been as strong..."

Soon, the story is spun in a way that only one ever seems to have truly loved while the other senses it was just a good idea. Ah, but there is a factor. There is another and to this another is going all the affection of which it was said, "I shall never give to another such as I have given you."

How deep the wound, how sharp the slight when the one sits alone and weeps whether silently or aloud at the loss of something that they believed was not only without chance of loss, but immutable and mutually felt. It suddenly becomes, "Well, you always loved me more, anyway..."

How acute the sting as the other becomes frustrated, confused, angry as the one process feelings they don't even know how to fully deal with; they've been betrayed, hurt, and lied to, but they wish never to give these labels to the other because so great was the love they promised that they could never bring themselves to do so horrible a thing.

The days pass by. The live in the same house, use the same car, share meals; their "love" has spawned tangible symbols into the world... but now these things mean nothing (or less) because in light of another, the other has said, "The one... it wasn't real. Not like this. Not like you..." They continue to trample, both in word and deed, everything that the heart of the one ever rested in. At the same time, says the other to the one, "Please don't be upset. I didn't lie to you, but I didn't know..." "It's not like I really took anything from you; it wasn't quite that serious and... I don't know... I just...."

Eventually there is silence and then a fire. The one plans to leave. Although they will never harm this other that they have loved, the betrayal and subsequent, still-forming scars are too much to bear. They will take their love and all of the symbols of it and bear it elsewhere. Where and to what end is unknown, but wherever it may be, it can't be here.

Not here.
Not that close.
Not now.

Thinks the one to themselves amid the inner turmoil that is now the core characteristic of their soul, "I would say 'not ever', but I cannot bring myself to think like this. I just have to get away somehow. Escape the feelings assaulting me.

Every moment, a reminder that evokes feelings... the feelings that, as recently found out, are a lie and may have always been thus. Worse still is that the thoughts and their poison continue on. How long did they think like this? So much does the thought plague them that they finally get up the gumption to ask; they have to know.

Months. A while. A long time now. Answers that are crippling. How could I have loved someone so long and deeply that never truly cared for me at all? A new wave of pain surfaces and with that, more poison. A wounded heart can only take so much.

There is a new thirst forming. For all the love the one felt, they want to want to inflict pain now. They want someone – anyone – to understand how they feel and have felt, but to this someone would have to see what they've seen...

...and they have seen hell through Satan's own eyes...

So goes the story for a while. They are snappish, short, withdrawn, silent, taciturn, they often stay to themselves. Meanwhile, the other notices none of this; so enamored are they of the new thing they have found that all memories of the one are no more than the most distant of blips on a radar that decreases in sensitivity with every passing moment.

Say the other to the one, after a while of seeing them upset: "Why don't you find another as I have? Then you could be happy..."

In their efforts to make things well, they have deepened the wound by miles; there is nothing worse than being told by the one to whom you have given as much as you could that you should simply forget them and give all you can again to another who may or may not also lie to and betray them. Who is this other to ever attempt to say, "You should give...." to anyone what they themselves by their own admission never truly gave to you? How can one suggest that you give when all they have done is taken?

Shock. Horror. Mortification at the very thought just brings more poison into the system of the one. The only antidote lies within the heart of the one person that will not give theirs. Meanwhile the one revels in their newfound love as if they have never loved before...

...and from what you've gathered, they've never truly have. It wasn't intentional, but the soul of the one is just collateral damage. That's how it is treated, anyways. There's no apology for allowing loveless months to stretch on without a word until something better came along that you could leave for... and who could blame anyone for this? If you had access to someone that poured out their all in every way to make your life better in any way they could, who wouldn't take advantage of that?

"I wouldn't...." thinks the one. "...I would never have done this to another living soul. I don't want to live... if there is even life after this."

The future is a void and dark place, full of and meaning nothing for the one as their heart continues to tumble downward and inward in a blur of times, dates, images, and places where all of the words were said on which they built their faith in the love of the other. Just as the point of total collapse, there is a moment of suspension.

What happens now? They realize there is a place to go.

Where is it? Where does this path lead? It is unknown, but there is one and they must walk it if for no other reason than the only alternative is dying. When they attempt to acquiesce to their wish to disappear, there is a light. It is a small mote.

One point that violently refuses to be crushed or swallowed or even diminished. This – rather than your passions or your heart – takes over dominion now and guides by instincts long forgotten. To protect yourself and forget others. The other goes from being a distant, faraway and pain-causing "friend" to simply being a threat to your life that you fight with every fiber in you to keep at bay and in its place.

The one gets up and starts making plans for a future without the other. The tears are less as is the hatred, but there is a fire alight now and it will not be extinguished until the other ceases to exist.

The other notices a change, but knows not what. They ask why you are distant and what is wrong. Incredulous is the one; how do you trample upon my heart and then ask so foolish a question as why I withhold it? Why do you care? Or are you pretending this, too? Are you just trying to get close enough to me to hold my heart so you can make sure to finish the work you started? Why do you now pretend to care when you know you lie at the center of all of the pain and anguish internal I currently bear?

Whatever trust there is there is now less and rightly. It feels so strange; the one to whom you would have given your life now barely gets your eye contact.

So comes the morning and the one gets up and goes to do their things. Lives their life. Tries simply not to be overwhelmed; nevermind forgetting. That could never be. They simply want to not hurt. They fear they will forget how to love after this, but the feeling of having a direction and the drive to accomplish is a powerful contrast to the pale, grey lack of any desire to so much as breathe before.

Finally, says the one to the other: I loved you. You said you loved me, then changed your mind. You should have told me. You shouldn't have lied. You shouldn't have betrayed me by saying things you didn't mean. However, that is past and can never be changed. What has been and what now is is. Here is what is: our bond is broken by you and broken shall it remain until you repair it. It is not in me to wish you harm and I will not, but you will be without me. You don't need to care and, though it pains me, I don't need you to. Goodbye.

So walked away the one with a larger light, a hotter fire, and a burnished soul. What becomes of the other? Who knows? Maybe this time, they told the truth when they spoke of love to another. That is not for the one to know now. There is simply glorious life to be lived. This day. The next day. The day after.

And this precious one will live it. All of it.

The Struggle

It was just a comment, but it's something I've given subtle warning to in one way or another all week: I'm on edge. I don't think people understand just what this means. Yes, I can laugh. Yes, I can smile. Yes, I can have civil conversation. At the same time, I just shouldn't be pushed.

In particular this week, I've been especially edgy about the way people say things whether to or even around me. Maybe it's just me and I need to not be around a lot of people. I don't know anymore. It's going to eventually cause problems and I'm going to have to be a bit of an ass in order to have peace of mind. Not that I want that -- I don't -- but I'm running out of options.

So, last night, we were sitting at the desk. Polli playing MTG, I doing a prelim sketch for a design thing I'll be working on later. Phillip was in the room with me. I heard a tone go off. This is the same tone I've been exposed to for the last five days: a quick, short whistle. Only Polli's phone has this as Phillip has opted for normal tones on his iPhone. That whistle is familiar to me as is every other tone and even the caller at this point, on Polli's phone.

When I hear the tone, I comment to Polli that he has a text and that, from the sound, it's in Phillip's room. He replies in a way that set my nerves on edge. The statement was a simple, "That's not my phone. My phone's not even in Phillip's room." The words aren't the problem here. The problem was the terseness in which it was said. Maybe I should just avoid speaking to people while they are in the middle of playing games. Maybe I'm oversensitive, but it seemed very harsh to me. As if I couldn't have been saying anything more ridiculous in the world at the time. How could his phone be anywhere but in his possession and least of all in Phillip's room? I was clearly in error. Severe error. I should stop talking immediately or say something that made sense. No effort was made to even attempt to humor me by checking; it was that ridiculous a thought.

I sighed and said nothing.

Shortly before bed, Polli looks for his phone to check something and notices that his phone isn't nearby. Not in, on, around, or under the chair. Not in his pocket. Not under or on the desk. Nowhere to be found at all. I immediately remember my last observation and walk into Phillip's room, asking if the phone on his desk was his phone. He says no, it's his phone. I ask him to check, so he does and finds that it is, in fact, Polli's phone on his desk.

By this point, Polli has walked up behind me and I hand him the phone. He says nothing at all to address the earlier point of "That wasn't my phone..." or "My phone isn't in Phillip's room" or even "Oh, my bad. Sorry about what I said earlier..." or anything. He goes his way. I swallow every urge to say, "I told you so. I told you it was in there and you responded to me like I was retarded, but here it is. Lying on his desk. Just sitting there. Now what are you going to say? Nothing? Just walk off like you didn't say what you said earlier? Right..." and just sit back down at the desk. I wander into some nearby space and just fall asleep there shortly after and this and other thoughts continue to torment me until I fall into fitful sleep for a few hours.

What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to handle these situations? Why do people seem to be so unaware of the way they say things to people and how they come across? Do I (and should I) choose to believe the best and think, "Maybe he didn't mean for it to come out the way it did?" or should I lean toward my more "realistic" thought of, "He meant it the way it came out and he's a jerk for that even if only for that moment?" In the end, I suppose I would rather just talk to him calmly about it when my feelings aren't on edge so I can address things calmly, establish understanding, and repair things with a hug or a laugh or a cartoon or something.

I don't want to feel as I do now even though it is a far cry better than last night. I really don't want to feel like I should just walk away from everything and everyone but my job and my training.

I Think It's Disappointment

I suppose that, simply put, I expected better. I should have known that the PBR on the desk was the sign of problems to come, but it's whatever because you're an adult.

Then the games. They are, in fact, games. Even if we lost five of them in a row, they are games. I reminded you of this in the midst of your frustration, yet again thinking, "you're an adult. It's whatever."

After this, the banging on things. I'm not one for temper tantrums, but you're an adult. Acting foolishly, yes, but an adult. I should not have to look after you.

There is now a hole in the wall. A hole in the wall because of a computerized, online game that we were playing against other people. I would like to add that we won this particular game. If that's the price of winning a game, I don't want to play anymore.

After you take your time to cool off, you ask me how much it is to patch the hole. You just want a figure so you can pay for the damage you did. Now we have a problem because I have never paid to patch a hole in the wall. I have put one hole in the wall from playing and there was another hole put in a wall by drunk people and yet another from a temper tantrum someone else had. The landlord, out of kindness, patched all of those holes for me without charging me anything; no, I cannot tell you what the monetary value is for the damage you did.

I still can't tell you after several explanations and your two moments that you decided to try to talk your feelings out and hug me.

I'm disappointed. More than angry. More than annoyed. More than inconvenienced. Disappointed because you expect me to believe in you and this is how I am repaid. Disappointed because you don't know when not to drink. Disappointed because the reason for the hole being in my wall isn't significant. It's not even because of a bad breakup. Just a game that you don't even have to play. This is beyond ridiculous.

I don't know what to think right now and I've spoken as much as I am going to in a calm manner about my feelings. I think I am going to work out, order a pizza and go to bed before I say anything mean to you.

Wedding Day

They got married. It was beautiful and I did what I set out to do; I was the most pleasant person you could have hoped to meet (and that on two hours' sleep).

After a while of being there, I congratulated the both of them and gave them a hug. Individually and at different times.

The ceremony was outdoors. Beautiful weather. Rebecca sang [God bless the broken road] to Josh and then the wedding vows following (not to mention the preceding song) set a highly emotional atmosphere. It was pretty intense.

After that, there was this chatter and that. Some of it I had to politely curb just out of respect. I was called both an unofficial fiancé and a son-in-law among other things.

Well, let's talk about those things, I guess.

Loss. Yeah, it strokes my ego, but I'll not have that on someone's joyous day. It's flattering, but inappropriate and I'll not curse the happiness God has blessed.

Ex-fiancé. Do you really introduce someone that way? Smh.

All that aside, good to see people in love and loving. God bless their journey together.

Pathway

It was standing there and just taking in the moment, that I remembered so much.

We're walking this together. I had forgotten I think; it had been so long since then. Since that.

Standing there at that time, I thought about the path I had been on walking with you -- sometimes ahead, sometimes behind. At some point, I thought I was alone.

Again.
As always.

Then I see your love for me that remains, faithful as ever it has been and possibly more meaningful.

I just wrapped my arms around it and held on as long as I dared while the whispers of love floated around my ears.

"I love you."
"Funny; I was thinking the same thing..."

It was an instant in time, but just taking it all in was delightfully overwhelming. I was happy and being there with you made me that way. For a time, I closed myself off to surrendering myself to that; so often do people leave that I often forget that not all do or will.

For that moment, I forgot that and just allowed myself to be loved and love without thinking it through. It was good. Wanted. Needed. And just when I had thought to let you go and settle for that moment, you hold on a little tighter and a little longer; no, this is better. This is permanent. This is real. Stay here. Live here.

I think I could get used to that again. I really could.

Prayerfully

There is a lot to be accomplished through prayer. I've been praying about some things for a while.

The thing about praying is that it has an action component most people don't give proper place to; prayer is recognition that your life is a (hopefully) cooperative effort to live life together in the will of God.

That said, what I see today is that prayer is not meant to keep you still; quite the contrary. Prayer gets us moving.

Whatever you have been praying about this week, month or year, move on it. Praying for a job doesn't help if you don't apply nor does praying that God "sends you to the nations" if you don't acquire a passport. In fact, you could be right in the way of what you're praying for.

Let me suggest moving from simple prayer to living prayerfully. Be aware of His breathing and leading as you move and live. Our lives in Him aren't sedentary. Start making a step and see what He blesses, then adjust accordingly.

Maybe that's our problem; we want this perfect plan that never has to be adjusted. If that is your prayer today, let me deter you from that foolishnes: a faith-filled life is very minimal when it comes to planning because it is sensitivity-dependent.

Ponder this.
Comment if you want.

Redeeming the Time

Whenever an opportunity to do a kindness presents itself, take advantage.

That would be the ideal, but I can't do that all the time. However, today I took advantage of the one opportunity I got.

Today, I walked into Starbucks for a cup of coffee. The usual suspects were there. Among them, my coffee ninja.

He looked particularly disturbed by something, so I listened. He commented on feeling terrible and wishing for DayQuil as his allergies were going insane. I joked with him outwardly, but inwardly, I thought about it and decided that I would do what I could for this guy. Asking him to guard the cookies I just bought, I left.

I decided not to get the DayQuil and got him allergy meds instead; DayQuil doesn't handle allergies.

Returning to the store, I sipped the coffee (not as chocolatey as I wanted, but good) and nodded my approval, then smiled at him and handed him the bag. I bought him two types as I wasn't sure which one would help him most.

"What's this?"
"It's a bag."
"Don't tell me.... You didn't..."
[I conveniently have coffee in my mouth. Of course, there are customers here]
"Dude, you didn't... I mean... This had to be like thirty dollars..."
[It was, but who cares?]
"Nah...."
[I wave and leave before he can attempt to return the meds]

You know, it's things like this that remind me that God loves me more than anything. Just the chance to help another person. It's a good thing -- a very, very good thing -- that God gives us opportunities to reach out to someone outside of ourselves and help them. It makes us good and feel good and that is freakin' fantastic.

No Regret Weekend

As you may know, I have a standing, lifelong commitment to lead a life that has no regret in it. The result of this decision is this campfire. Many times, I write about the things in my life that really irk me about people, but my life isn't about that; those moments are actually a lot smaller than the small positives I experience everyday and I write about those on twitter and the like. I appreciate them, but rarely do I reflect on them as deeply as I have on the events of this weekend.

THURSDAY
I decided to miss work at job #2 since it's not even official yet, and help Alessio with packing after a training meeting with HQ at job #1. I bought him boxes and helped him pack a bit. He was so frazzled, so I tried to keep him in only one place at a time. Bouncing back and forth kept him going wild, but not as wild.

After this, I met up with the crew for the Dalton and Tiffany's wedding rehearsal. That was joy and laughter and apparently a great relief for many people. Afterward, we ate at Chik-Fil-A and went home. I even made a few new friends that night. It was nice.

I played a round or two of LOL, then went to bed.


FRIDAY
Back to other things I needed to do, so more things in the morning I needed to sort out with HQ, then to downtown to meet Alessio. After I met up with him, I helped him pack some more. I had some things coming up for the weekend for which I needed a car, but couldn't find one. Things would be troublesome if I didn't find one.

After helping Alessio pack, I went with him to move things out and get coffee. I had double-booked myself this weekend; there was a camping trip and one other event. I decided to pass up the camping trip, but I met with the guys going to give them money so they could take another person in my place. The meeting was pleasant and full of laughter. Things were said and I'll leave it at that.

After this, I scurried on to job #2. There, I had a couple of meetings and I got a bit of good news. I discussed current project status and plans, then went back to Alessio's where I got his car and went with him to Office Max for more boxes, then to Avis to try to rent a car. I couldn't rent the car because I didn't have a credit card. Totally rental cost with deposit was about $400. I had about $850. I have to be amused at a system that does not allow people with sufficient cash to buy or rent something because they don't have a credit card. Ah well. We went back to Alessio's to finish packing.

I thought and plotted, then called Enterprise. They were an hour from closing, but very helpful and within the hour, I had a car rented and on my way to Alessio's to help him move some things. After this, I went home thinking.

Earlier, Alessio had sent a text asking if I'd drop in for a dinner around 8:30PM. It would be his last dinner with everyone. I had other things planned, but I delayed them because I knew I would regret not having seen him on his last day hanging out with everyone. The fact is, I never know when I'd have that chance again and if that were my last, I would have never forgiven myself for it, so I made the adjustments needed and I spent that time with him.

I tried to workout a bit before dinner, but there just wasn't time. Oh well. The smile on his face and the cheers in the background were more than enough confirmation that the dinner was where I should have been. The food at A Tavola was fantastic; I tried a calamari pizza. The waitress was fantastic, too. Alessio looked like he was going to burst at the seams loving people. He sang songs that he knew on the radio and kept making hugging motions and pointing at me. I smiled and pretended not to notice. A glass of white wine and dinner done, we headed downtown for an hour or two where I ran into all sorts of people that blended the meetings of almost three years into one room; old friends, new co-workers all met together to love one person and it was magic. Alessio hugged me some more and I laughed with everyone, then made my way out into the night, leaving love and blessing with my old boss and telling my new one we would talk again soon.

Two hours later, I got to my destination and went to bed with these thoughts, thankful that I delayed my own personal plans to be with someone else and enjoy the life of their moment.

SATURDAY
I have a backlog on work such that it is ridiculous. I decided to postpone that and simply enjoy the moment I was in. The place I'm in has no insulation, so I was loathe to get out of bed. To my surprise, when I finally mustered up the courage to do this, it was warmer out than my sleeping area, so I went out and enjoyed a sandwich with Korri. We talked about all manner of things and I asked him what there was to do on the mountains; I didn't want to miss an opportunity to see or do something beautiful. It seems he was used to people complaining about the walk to a nearby waterfall, so I asked him to lead me.

The pictures, the sight, the smell, the beauty.... all of it was worthwhile. Every single moment of it. My phone died, so I planned to take more tomorrow morning. Returning home, I talked to Korri some more about a few things. There were pockets of silence here and there, but instead of bothering them, I let them be and eventually, convo flowed again; silence is just as important to convo as sound I think.

I entertained a short business call as well.

I also talked to Joe a bit and that was pleasant. I've missed him greatly. He's doing well and it would be no small thing to say that it makes my heart happy to know this. I think of him often, but that is its own tale.

I laid down in a nearby hammock and enjoyed the sun. Soon, I was asleep. When I woke up, I moved inside where I lay under a blanket while Korri and I spoke some more about this thing or that. I took another short nap and Korri woke me up and asked me outside. Following him, there was a campfire and there I learned to cook hotdogs on it. I took out my iPhone, took pictures and played bluegrass. It was perfect. He brought out some yeungling as well and I drank it. Not good, but not terrible. I finished the bottle, at least. Those hours had to be the manliest hours I've had and I spent it with someone who, being gay, complemented that moment more than some "more manly" guys I know. I am amused.

Korri tried to break apart some wood for the fire, but was having a hard time of it, so I helped him; my training has been handy :D

Moving back to the fire, we continued to talk and enjoy and plan for the day tomorrow. I had a couple of chats with online friends and I've made plans to go to Blairsville; it's nearby and I have friends there. Why not? It seems that I have made a correct decision here as well; it is Josh's birthday today so seeing him while he's near is totally more than appropriate!

TODAY
Today I wanted to write and reflect in thanks. It is 9:30 now. Soon, I will try to begin the day and to the lower falls again and take photos. We will see Blairsville. I will drive home and let my normal life surround me again, but I live this moment now thankful to God for this weekend.

It's A Good Morning

I woke up and saw this as I walked to the bus stop. Just before this, I washed a dish that had been left on the table the night before and took a pizza box out that was left on the stove.

I think about so many things and I write about all of those thoughts, but let me tell you a truth: today is a good day. I am a blessed man to see this one.

It's freaking beautiful today. Just gorgeous. Even if it rains ten minutes from this moment and I don't see this view when I come home tonight, this is enough.

I repeat: this is enough.

In life, in the middle of our everyday, mundane things and our pain, we so easily forget or sometimes forget to celebrate the fact that life is statically beautiful and that fact, for all of our brokenness and the brokenness we suffer interacting with others, that life is absolutely beautiful and it should be treasured and celebrated.

Play a song and dance to it. I did.

The fact is that, sometimes there's just storms in life and we don't always get shelter from those. We're not promised now, or ever, to be shielded from hurt or from pain. We aren't promised many things, actually, but the promises we do carry are precious things and one of those things is to be strengthened; things I was so upset about only days ago are like fleeting memories that -- get this -- I'm laughing at.

I believe it is the gift of God to be able to laugh at people and things that attempt to cause you pain and I had that thought today. In many ways, I'm invincible and where I am not, it will hurt someone more to hurt me than it would ever hurt me in a million lifetimes.

Life is good. Today is good. Your experience can follow that. Take a moment today to celebrate life. All of it.

Including your own.

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.

For Granted

The other day, a roommate of mine asked me about what the words "for granted" meant. Breaking it down into it's most basic components and said, "It means to behave as if a certain situation is a given and will always continue to be without changing."

Let me tell you, the change is here.
It started with this: 

A roll of toilet paper. What was so special about this? Well, a couple of weeks ago, Polli came by for a few days. During that time, Rickey came by to tell me that he had family coming by. I said that things needed to be cleaned. This process was sped up significantly and so we cleaned furiously (which means I did most of it) for a while to get the downstairs in order. Later, we found out the fam wasn't coming. That's fine. We needed to clean anyway. I will reference this bit later, though.

So hours later, Polli comes to me and asks for toilet paper. I do a quick mental inventory; I should have four  rolls of toilet paper as that was how many there were a couple of days ago when I last checked. I needed to visit the store and get some soon, but we were okay for the time being.

Rather, should have been.
"I don't see any..."

I suppose he didn't see any of the four rolls that were clearly in the closet, so I got up to help him look. They should be right here on the bottom shelf... Wait... Where is my toilet paper? Are you serious right now? My mental processes went into hyperdrive and here's what came out:

• I bought 24 rolls of toilet paper. 
• I've used six for myself. That means there should be 18.
• There are five people in the house.
• There are four other people using the toilet paper.
• There are four people that would have known sooner than I did that we were out of paper.
• There are four people that used the last of the toilet paper and did not think to tell me.
• None of these people want to/are in a position to replace this toilet paper.
• There were people that might have been here -- nine of them (Rickey has a large family and all of them were coming here and four of them are girls) -- that would have had no toilet paper because no one thought to just go, "Hey, could you get some toilet paper? We're out."
• These thoughtless fucks are going down. DFS mode: Activate.

That's been that since then. I'm still mad about it. What's funny is that it's coming to light now. People are going to be mad as fuck because I bought a new 12-pack of paper. I lend the toilet paper roll out and then I ask for it back immediately after use if I lend it at all. Randy asked the other day. Phillip asked today. When I asked for it back, he made a snide comment, "So are we going to have to ask you for toilet paper now?" to which I replied, "Nah. You could always go to the store and buy it if you want." and snapped the picture above.

It's not just this, but that was the last straw for me. I'm tired of doing for people that don't give a fuck at all right now. I might get back to the whole "being unconditionally, overflowing kind" thing, but right now, people need to realize that kindness is not something to be taken for granted. I can redirect that energy to other ends and I will. I let the laundry detergent run out. Paper towels are coming in short order. In the meantime, I'm stacking things in my room because I refuse to have either myself or my guests run out of toilet paper because people want to be thoughtless.

On the same vein, yesterday, I spent five hours cleaning. The first thing on that list was my bathroom. Phillip saw me cleaning downstairs a day or two after christmas and asked if he could help. I told him to clean the bathroom. Just the bathroom. We have three. I wanted him to clean the one upstairs since we use that bathroom and I cleaned it the last time.

"Fair enough. Okay then."

I cleaned the bathroom yesterday. Yesterday. If you're keeping count, that's a week and some change. Almost two. I can't think of one discernible reason for him not to have taken an hour to clean the bathroom. It only took one. I thought about this as I cleaned the sink and toilet and tub. I thought about how many times The same messes has been walked by as I swept the stairs. I marvelled as I looked at the stairs and thought, "These stairs look practically new from sweeping... This is bullshit...." I continued into the kitchen. Phillip woke up and asked if he could help.

"I remember the last time you asked me that..."

"Ah yeah, the bathroom. I forgot about that. Sorry."

"You know what, it's fine. I got this..."

He took the kitty litter box out, then he swept up a few things. I want to note this so that it doesn't seem like he didn't try to make amends. I'm sure he did. I just don't care about that one act in the face of the other 200 before that. I did thank him. I continued to clean and clean and vacuum. I became angry with every passing moment. I wanted to move out. I thought about my lease. I thought about the toilet paper. I thought about it all and was like, "I'm cleaning because I want this house clean and I really want to blow up right now, but what the fuck? Seriously: what the fuck? You are a grown-ass man. I'm not even asking you to wash all the dishes, just wash your dishes when you fucking finish using them? Is that really hard? I mean, you're already in the kitchen at the sink when you leave the dishes in the sink, so just turn the water on. Seriously...

まった-fuckin-く

So when this whole thing starts playing out and I start being a bitch about things, you'll get all the journal entries on it because I'm about to piss everyone off in here and I don't care.

Salt and Water

The one said:

If my love for you were an ocean, I'm lost at sea without a lifesaver, raft, or signal flare in tropical waters and a thousand miles from the shore.

The other said:

If your love for me were an ocean, I would be salt.

The one thought:

If you are the salt, I will become one with these waters.

Hearts beat harder, but as one.

... and so continued the flow... 

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.

Turnaround Magic

I love these kinds of moments. I was so irritated and just went to talk to Jill. I didn't even state what was wrong, but just taking out a little frustration to someone that I knew would care helped me so much.

After that, a song came on. Jill commented that the crowd was dead, so I suggested we go liven things up. She was down and soon we were clapping and moving. It spread a little by a little and got people near us moving.

We came back and shared pictures and laughed and my irritation melted away. I wasn't on the phone much still but it was my choice this time. I swayed and enjoyed the music.

I had one song I wanted to hear very much, so i asked for it after being encouraged by Jill (dude, you're you, of course he'd play it).

His eyebrows jumped a bit, but he smiled and said sure. It was a really old song he hadn't had requested in forever. What he doesn't know it that that song is deep in my soul. I remember where and when I was, crying because I missed the very person playing the song which was on a cassette tape. Beautiful, but painful memory.

I stood for most of that song, silently thanking them for playing it and enjoying the expressions of everyone around. Especially Tomo who has the most soul-soothing, peaceful expression while playing.

I thanked them all and Jerry gave me a CD to take home. I'm rather excited about this since it has newer things on it. I don't think he understood that I wanted all of the music he's ever made.

He does now.

We hugged, I hugged Jill, I shook hands with the band, and so ends my final night here. It was so good to be here and I'm
Thankful for the little things that can change a night from frustrating into magical.

This night was definitely that and tomorrow I head home. There is a lot I will miss here. Especially the musical tastes. I actually like listening to the radio. Everyone here knows good music.

That said, my love waits for me in Georgia and I really want to be there right now. I come back to them, happy but longing.

I'm glad I came here. I really am.

My Father's Son

This visit has been so many things leading to today. Eye-opening and funny.

I've lived with my mom most of my life and I take many a trait from there, but today I observed that so many things within me that are emerging are from my father's line.

Alton is a ninja. Grandma is elegant, graceful and warm with a sharp edge. Grandpa is straight gangsta. Jerry is curious and funny. Brandon is observant and painfully honest. Tarina is quiet joy. All of the men share my bodily features; height, hairline, skin textures... all of it.

It caused so much unexpected, unbridled joy for everyone to see me there. 14 years stored up with love were spilled out so much. I took a lot of pictures.

People were married. People existed that did not exist when I was there last. Everyone that met me for the first time liked me. I also liked them. Laughter flowed through. Old wounds were opened here and there and we're just as quickly closed.

Jill was glad to finally meet me in person. Every embrace was met with laughter by me and each person that hugged me. Contact info was exchanged. It was so much but yet not enough. There were the questions of course; where had I been? Why so silent for so long? Not a touch of hurt, though. Pure curiosity on where life's roads had led me in love and adulthood. All met with nods and understanding.

With that, the night ended and we were all pretty tired.

Now home, thoughts and feelings from many corners are filling my mind, but of them all, as much as I love my mom, I am clearly my father's son.

With the Fam

I love you and I'm missing you terribly but even in that, my hours have laughter in their wake. Being with my family inspires so much joy in just their being.




My uncle laughing and saying, "Yes and thank you" when the TV announces that shopping at Sacs 5th Avenue is not black Friday shopping.

The guys watching varying sports and joking while the girls busy themselves making this and that. It's just how they are.

We're listening and talking about iPhones and Droids and putting more sugar in the fruit punch.

It's these people that I inherit so much of who I am from. Even in our deepest seriousness, there's a bit of mirth and faith that things will be as they should be.

We love hard here and everyone is welcome. I'll miss this when I return home but for now, I enjoy every moment of it even as I sit here and write.




Oh, and I kinda look cute. ♥

Conqueror of New York

It started yesterday at 10:40am.

Things went well and I caught all of my buses without incident... until I was in New York. There was a 2:15 layover, so I waited.

Without hearing an announcement, the bus was gone. The next one wouldn't be there until 1:30pm. Mind you, those two hours were spent without signal so I decided to tour the building for a while to move and keep myself hard to recognize.

I went upstairs to see what was there and, after a moment, I got messages as I had signal.

Phone calls and texts poured in. My uncle suggested I take the train to Parsons Blvd. he would text directions later. I get no signal on trains, so I read signs and maps and made my best guesses.

I arrived only a block away from where my uncle suggested since I read maps well. After that, rather than catch the bus immediately, I walked for a couple of miles. The weather is very mild. Not the biting cold I expected and no snow. The weather also held up so there was no rain.

I am now at my grandmother's house and thinking many things. Things like, "if you don't protect yourself, no one will. You must protect yourself."

It's disheartening and encouraging all at once. If I ever doubted my instinct to survive, I can definitely stop now.

Need to figure out what to do with these feelings.

On the other hand, I managed to use the train and bus in New York. Didn't do that when I lived here. I'm beastly.

How Strange the Feeling: Part 2

It's not that I think you are weak. It's that I am strong, too. I don't think you see this. I don't think you comprehend this. I can understand that. It's not something I show to many people. It's nice to be mentally strong. It's nice to be emotionally strong. It's nice to be spiritually strong and of the types of strength, strength of spirit is most important, but I am a physical being on a material plane and there is strength there.

For the longest time, it's strength that I develop in a sort of fear. I don't know what I would do with a great deal of strength if I ever had to wield it, but things are different now. Now, I have a desire for that strength to be tangible. Felt. Expressed. I suppose I always have, but now the desire, having been so long ignored in my pursuits for milder, softer expressions has become a beast I can no longer contain... nor do I wish to. Such is the power of one conversation I suppose.

I will be seen for the warrior I am inside by whatever means. I don't know what that will cost me yet. I have my safeguards in place and I've made my plans and I've already taken steps that way.

The sad part, as I sit here in this office chair, is that I realize as I type that, even if no one helps me, I'm doing this anyway. In the quiet and in the shadow and I will simply use everything in my world to help me without telling them what they are feeding until this beast is fully grown.

Just thinking about this brings a flood of emotions, but mostly, it leaves all emotions feeling flat except for an express few. Now, I really want to fight someone. I need to focus on paperwork, but I'd rather wield a spear.


Polli, I made you make a promise. I really hope that you'll honor that. Things are a little bit worse in some ways than I originally thought.