Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Her best intentions were never the best he could hope for.

Sometimes I feel as if the things that I try to do to help people are misinterpreted by others around me. Is it wrong of me to not give a damn how my conversations with an individual person are perceived by outsiders who don't really know what went down or what was said? Or should I care? I've lived my entire life caring entirely too much how the world saw every little thing that I did and every little decision that I made. And I've woken up from that way of life and I've come out of my shell in ways that I did not think were possible. I've become this person that I like. Don't get me wrong, I still think things through. I still play situations within my head before I ever enter in to them. The difference is that instead of just sitting there thinking about a situation, I do actually go through with it, consequences be damned. I am doing my best to be assertive. I dive head first into the lives of my loved ones when I think that it's right, or when I think that I can help them. Should I be judged because of this? Should I have to feel as if I'm doing something wrong every time I try to use what little insight I have from my education to help them? I honestly don't think it is, no matter what past I may have with the person.

I bring this all to your attention as well as my own because today I did what I felt was right to help two of my best friends. I took 45 minutes of my time and tried to help a boy that I used to love, continue to love someone else. I can see why this could be viewed as inappropriate, but who are you or anyone else to judge my intentions? All I wanted was to help him see what he was unconsciously doing. I wanted to open his eyes to the things that he wasn't aware he was putting his girlfriend (another one of my best friends) through. I went out there with no pretenses, no secrets, and no barriers, because I know that he respects that. I was direct and truthful. And I might have even hurt him, but I think I had to simply to help him help himself love completely. He needs my help, or he never would have allowed me to stay in that car. He wants to listen to me; he wants my help because he knows that I'm someone he can trust, someone that is honest, and someone that will lead him down a path that might be a little easier. Hell I might even be able to understand things about him that he so far cannot. And so I took a leap and I helped my friend. And I return to my apartment, to a boyfriend that is looking at me like I've betrayed him, like I've done something wrong. He alludes to the fact that I shouldn't shove my nose where it doesn't belong unless I'm invited. What my boyfriend does not and will never understand is the fact that I have a special friendship with this person. I know where the boundaries are. I know him better than myself, and better than he knows himself. I see through all his bullshit. And I help him, in ways that my boyfriend will never see, nor does he need to see. It's a quiet but immensely deep friendship that we have.

It's one of those friendships that can survive any battle. It can survive almost love, and utter heartbreak. It can survive almost death, and deaths of others. And someday it may be the death of us simply because it is so deep and so meaningful, but we're willing to deal with whatever consequences, because it's something neither of us can or ever will give up. I've tried to walk away. There were days where it hurt to just think about him. But then I'd see him and it'd be like I was going back in time. Everything melts away, and friendship survives all heartaches. I love this boy, but I am no longer in love with him. I'm simply addicted to his friendship. He makes the world stop spinning so quickly and he wipes away all the stupid illusions until I see what's always been sitting in front of me. As much as he needs me right now, I've needed him more in the past and he has always, always been there. No matter what. Our intentions are entirely straightforward.

But even my best intentions may not be enough for him. For either of them. But I will continue on doing what I think is right because it doesn't matter what some outsider thinks. I need to do what makes me sleep sound at night, what keeps that knot out of my throat and keeps my heart from beating straight out of my chest in fear. And if my true love cannot understand this, maybe it isn't what I think it to be.

My best intentions will always be misinterpreted,

My lifelong battles will someday be misread,

And I will probably lose them both in pursuit,

Of quiet within my crowded head.

But I will keep on breathing,

I will keep on trudging on,

Because this all matters,

Until love is completely gone.


11:58 pm

Monday, April 20, 2009

Let the past be the past

My life is by no means an easy one. There are many examples that I can bring to the table to prove to you that this is true, but I'm not sure that I need to justify myself to anyone anymore. But maybe I do need to bring my thoughts out in the open, so that maybe I can come back to this entry, this place, and understand this specific version of me. Because that's what I do, at least 6 times a year, I look back and I revisit that person I used to be. Not because I want to wallow in my regrets or because I wish I would have done this, or that, but because I miss that girl that I used to be. As amazingly confusing as that might be, I do miss the thousand versions of me that exist somewhere in the past, because each version was amazing in a specific, if not outstanding way. So here is my tale, here are the things that make my life what it is today, in no particular order, and with no specific meaning.

I believe that one reason that my life is so complicated is that I grew up most of my life, or at least the important years, without a father. I say that and I'm sure that you assume that my father is some kind of deadbeat ignoring child support requests or maybe even my existence. That is not what I had to endure. I had a father, an amazing father actually. He loved me, and he told me that, and he showed me that every single day of his life. He and my mom did not get along for most of the years I remember, but you know that's okay. I know he wasn't perfect. He was an alcoholic, and he was strong enough to give that up. And it actually saved my childhood. I have memories with my father. I have great memories swimming in lakes, and playing in playgrounds. I have so many memories, and not one contains a taint of alcoholism. He was first and foremost a father. And then he got sick, and I watched my father whither away. This is most of what complicates my existence still. It's one thing to lose someone close to you, but it's entirely different to watch them fade away. It's heartbreaking to watch someone that you thought was invincible literally fall apart, and become a whole new person, physically and mentally. To be honest, I lost my father a long time before he ever passed away. But I loved him until the end. I still love him, and a part of me still expects that one day someone will just say "oh ya, by the way that was all just a joke", and we can move on and be a happy family again. I still imagine and wish and wait for the day that he shows up at my doorstep with that grin on his face. It will not happen, and I am well aware of that, but the childish hope still thrives. My days will always be plagued with a darkness of his last few months. I will always be tainted by the fact that I had no positive male influence in my life after I turned the age of 12. I will never understand men. And I will always miss one man until the day I join him in the clouds.

I think another reason my life will never be easy, is because my first love was not really love at all by the social definition. I've swayed between calling it love and adolescent lust for what I didn't really know, but I think if I'm honest and I forget all the people that I could hurt by admitting the truth, that it really was love. I fell in love with a boy when I was a freshman in high school. This seems like a broken record to me, but I'm going to imagine it's a broken record you haven't yet heard. I fell in love with a boy that was broken beyond repair. He was everything that I was told was wrong for me. He liked rock music, he had tattoos, he was a loner, he hung out with people that I was kind of scared of if I'm honest, and he was a skinny scrawny non-muscley type. Those are all the social labels that kept me forever a step away from him. What drew me in and made me become best friends with this boy was his amazing honesty, his blue eyes that surrendered his every thought, and the fact that he wasn't scared to be who he was in a world that told him he wasn't allowed to be that. He listened to me, and as I found out years after the fact, and way too late, he loved me too. It was an amazingly complicated semi-relationship that never had the timing it needed to become what we wanted it to. He was in a relationship. I was scared to begin something I knew nothing about. It was my fear, that sealed the deal and kept me those final inches away, forever and always, it was my fear that kept us apart. He is my what-if, my shoulda coulda woulda, but never will be. And I stress never here. Because even though I still think about, even though I wish that back then I would have had some confidence, or maybe that he would have had less reserve, the time has passed. And I have moved on, I've fallen in love again, and for real this time. But the fact remains that I do have that long lost love, and he just so happens to live with me. He's one of my best friends. He's around me more than any of my other friends, and I find that some days I'm transported back in time. Whenever it rains and he gets upset and his eyes just glow the way they do in the grayness… it takes my breath away because I remember days when I couldn't stop trying to draw his eyes. He is one part of my past that I cannot get away from, he does not fade. And no matter how in love I am, how much of myself I've given to another man… I sometimes still feel the compulsion to throw it all away. I know the truth though, I am smarter than my desires. The love that I had with him is nothing that can ever thrive. It is and will always be that love that just never had exactly what it needed. It didn't have the timing, or the confidence, or the life that it needed. It was always always missing something crucial. It died a long fucking time ago. It was one of those love stories that needs to be told to completely go away though. And so this pen, and this person will one day bring it to life, so it can be granted real death. Our love will exist on paper if nothing else. But my heartbreak, and the wounds that he inflicted on me will forever live on within me. Back then, I was just a girl that had never even kissed a boy. I was the inexperienced girl that didn't quite know how to go about telling a boy how she felt. And so I kept most of what I felt inside. He knew me though, he knew me better than anyone in the world. So he made me tell him the truth. And one day I broke down and I told this boy that I loved him, that I wanted to be with him, that I'd give anything if he just felt the same way for me. And he said nothing. I almost would have preferred a rejection, but I got nothing. And so I went on with my life still fighting for him, even if it was only for a friendship with him. I went on broken, missing a very important piece of my heart. I deemed myself unlovable, inexperienced and stupid. I never wanted to ever tell a boy that I loved him again because I was so scared to feel that again. I still feel ugly most of the time. I've been with a man for 4 years, that has told me how beautiful I am from day one, and I still do not believe it. And it took me a long time to say I loved him, because it just hurt too much. My first love ruined love for me, because it could have been perfect.

The final blow that I suffered from my first love was only about a year ago now. I had continued being friends with this boy for years after he broke my heart. I always harbored scars from it, ones he saw and knew, and some he didn't. We met after a long week because I needed a friend, and I got more truth from him than I ever had. He told me that he loved me back then too. This shattered my world. Not only did it make me question my current relationship, but it made me question how he could hurt me, and how I could continue being friends with him. He stole my new love, and my old love, and my friendship with him, and my perfectly nice reality. He stole all the illusions that I had created to make everything make sense. And then he hacked them to pieces with the look he pierced me with. This was something that needed to happen, and I realize that. Truth needs to be revealed, and relationships need to be tested in order to see how strong they really are. It turns out that my relationship with my boyfriend, and my friendship with my first love were both stronger than I had ever imagined, as was I myself stronger. He threw me for a loop in this rollercoaster of life, and I survived. I strived. And I moved on. But he left scars, some that still rip open and some that continue to bleed. The truth is that he will always hold a piece of my heart. He will always know that version of me better than anyone else. And he will always be in my life, because I need him to keep me sane. He makes my life hard just by being in it, but I wouldn't give him up for anything. Is that selfish of me? Yes. Do I regret it? No. He needs me and I need him and that's all that matters. Sometimes we have to open the wounds all the way, dig around and get all the truth out before we can ever move on. I found my truth that I always yearned for when I was younger, and it was too much, too late. I love him. But our love will never be today, what it could have definitely been back then.

So here I sit, seeing how these things of my past shape the person I am today. I am an amazing girlfriend. I am an amazing friend. I will one day be an amazing mother, and grandmother, and aunt, and whatever else comes my way. And I will be all those things because of what the men in my life have put me through. The older versions of myself had a rough ride. They lost things that meant so much to them. They lost a father, and a lover, and a best friend, and a perfect reality. But I have gained insight. I have gained knowledge of my world, and I have grown immensely. I can live a door down from the person that I used to love and not think twice. My relationship today means more to me than anything in the world, and nothing to break that, not even confessions from a past that I wish I could change. There are a lot of shoulda woulda couldas out there, and not one can break what I've built. Because in reality those woulda shoulda couldas are the building blocks that have built this structure. I never could have become this me, if I wasn't all those versions first. So here's to the past, being the past, and building this future. And here's to hope that love and friendship can life in harmony and in truth for the rest of time.

And if this perfect life shall fail, I only have one hope inside, may all these people know I love them, may I never have anything to hide. And may his soul just rest in peace, for at least just another day, and may my first love find his own, so his wounds too can melt mostly away.



Tuesday, April 7, 2009

A new beginning, an old goodbye

The way time passes amazes me. Things can change so rapidly, and so immensely that we don't even realize that we've become this entirely new person. We don't realize that we've left the person we were behind, and have grown into a new one, until we look back randomly one day and realize how different we have become. I know this because it's happened to me quite a few times over the years. Looking back it seems as if I must have gradually progressed into the young woman I now am, but I'm not sure that the change was really so gradual. I think it all happened at once, and I was completely unaware of the changes because I had other things to focus on… other things to be happy about for once. I've grown into this person that is able to love with all her heart. I've grown to forgive the people around me for the mistakes they've made, as well as to forgive myself for taking so many wrong paths. I have fallen in love, given my heart away, and I can't imagine that a day will come when I will regret that decision. Good, bad, happy, sad, or pathetic this is what my life is. And it's invigorating.

This is not to say that life is all sunshine and rainbows. It's more like fire and ice. My world has been set ablaze, and I love it. Every single thing in my life seems somehow amplified in the light of first love. I can find reason in the world, where reason used to escape me. I can find sadness too, though. There are shadows, and there are dark corners that I still fear, but I also relish in the adventure that they bring to the table. I love the rainstorms because I get to run through them with him. I love the snow because it means we get to cuddle to keep warm. And even the bad things in life don't seem so bad when you realize that you don't have to battle it alone.

Maybe that's the change that ensued. My I, became a we, and the world just seems more bearable somehow. And so I want to welcome this new way of life, that I hadn't until now realized I was already starting to live. And I want to say farewell to my newest version of my old self. She wasn't so bad, she was just broken, in need of repair. And somehow I think that he healed her. He created this new me from the ashes of the old me. He brought me back to life. And I love him for realizing that she wasn't the me I was supposed to be.


11:43 PM