If you remember what people tell you almost verbatim, you realize who is full of shit. I don’t think my memory is exceptional. Just I try to listen to what everyone tells me. Not everyone is bad actor. Some just tell a few lies and contradict themselves not realizing you’re fully aware. Can’t everyone keep it 100? Keep it real? Sincerity is paramount and I have a hard time putting my trust in someone if they can’t tell it to me like it is.
I honestly could not give a shit if what someone tells me makes them look bad. I had a co-worker who routinely overshared and told me far too much. Everything from how he cheated on his wife, past drug abuse, and his plans for walking away from it all if it was convenient for him — that’s a lot to digest. At least I knew he was honest. I probably trusted him more than anyone else in the office until he left for another position.
I don’t believe everyone is a saint who does no wrong. It’s foolish to think anyone can be like that. All I want is the truth and the satisfaction you are who you say you are. Trust isn’t easy.
You fear less about wanting to do something when you remind yourself of your morality. A drink here. A line here. A pill or two there. It’s easy to swallow for the bliss all the vices the world brings. It’s a battle against yourself, your mind, and the feelings of temptation.
Life’s not all pleasure seeking. Some days you fall. The false invincibility substances and sweet lady courage brings is met with danger. You tend to get lucky. Like most addictions, it’s fun in the beginning. Slowly, the light begins to fade. You’re met at the abyss. Look into the mirror and you may see someone unfamiliar. It’s interesting how you can lose control of your own body.
The mercy of the world is right in front of you. Somehow, telling yourself no is one of the hardest decisions there is to make.
Being told you’re missed is one the best feelings there is. To be remembered by someone you care about brings back a lot of memories. Some call it a flashback. I call it yearning for the past. I don’t usually forget friends, but have a tendency to believe they’ve forgotten about me. I’m usually wrong.
My roommate from college told me a lot of sweet things recently. We keep in touch and I often wish there wasn’t some 10+ hours of driving separating us. She’s a peach.
What is life? To be loved. To be missed. To wish today was yesterday.
Time stood still and the world frozen,
A cold breeze of winter,
And eyes that were open,
I saw you from afar and the lights turned off,
Terror in my heart,
And silence from my mouth,
You retuned again,
But without a word,
Exactly 5 years ago, I boarded a plane to Japan to see a friend — a lady. I traveled halfway around the world to see one person. Some may find this incredible — indeed it is. We were close. I knew all her deepest darkest secrets and she knew all of mine — or at least what she asked of me. When we met, I was one person. When she saw me again, I was someone else. Two different people who shared the same name and face.
People change. Life is dynamic and you can’t expect everyone you know to be the same year after year. I think many people don’t realize that. Everyone has different chapters and some aren’t the most poetic. I didn’t know what to tell her. I was different and not all of it good.
Like all women men are close to, they soon uncover the truth one way or another. The person she thought she knew was off at night on alcohol fueled benders. The feelings were nice. The lifestyle was chaotic. My body felt numb, but it’s to be expected. Alcohol and a few other illicit substances are a match made in heaven. I was still reeling over the feelings that come from newly being single and having to adjust to life in a new city. It was the perfect storm. For a while, our constant texts, phone calls, and Skype chats were keeping me in line. She was my safety net — unknowingly to her.
The armor I had began to develop cracks. When you become accustom to a lifestyle of drugs and drinking, talking about it is like second nature. You tend to not realize how wrong what you’re saying is to the other person. I remember she became startled at my comments, my praise for the fun it brings, the power that rushed through me in the night, but she stood by me. Well, at least in the beginning.
My world came crashing down. She finally left me after one last fight. It was the end, but I knew it was coming. I expected it, but it still hurt nonetheless. I use to feel guilty for how it ended, but after some time, I realized it wasn’t ever meant to be. It’s not to say I wasn’t at fault. I was and I admit it.
The past has a way of coming back to bite you. You run as fast as you can from it, but its’ grasp is all reaching. It’s no wonder some people are stuck in the past. It haunts you like the ghost of every winter. Think of all the actions and events you wish you could undo. I have several. Don’t get into that car, don’t make that turn, don’t jump, etc. Actions have consequences and you can’t take it back.
Hindsight is everyone’s ghost when the unspeakable happens. My thoughts dwell on past-present. It’s the only two points of time anyone cam be sure of. It’s not some hopeful thought for what tomorrow brings. You can’t see the future, but you’ve already experienced the past and the present state.
What is tomorrow without letting go of yesterday?
Yesterday was Saint Patricks Day. While many would opt for the usual drunken shenanigans that comes with diving into your inner Irish, I went and paid respects to my Grandpa and Great Grandma. It’s been ten years since he left this world and into the pearly gates above. We were all powerless to pull him down as he was lifted into the sky.
My beloved Grandpa Bing loved everyone with compassion and unwavering commitment. Even as I was falling from grace and getting closer to the dark side, he did not once give up on me. It’s incredible considering the things I was up to at the time. My behavior was inexcusable.
I felt a lot of guilt the months and years after he was gone. I set myself up for it in many ways. Here I was, left alone in the world without the one person I held to the highest regard. It was a rude awakening for just how unfair life can be. How the very people you hold closest to you can be taken from you in an instant. It stung, it hurt, I cried, and the feelings linger even now. My world came crashing down as the facade I built up around myself crumbled.
This tragic and heartbreaking time for me was the catalyst that would set into motion for the new me everyone has been accustomed to. I began to care more about the people around me. Often going out of my way for them by any means necessary.
I soon gained an awareness for genuine people who cared about me. Telling friend from foe wasn’t easy. Some fake sincerity with ease. Cut those people out of the boat and hope everyone left is still here for the voyage. I gave no time for fakeness and bullshit. We have clocks and I felt mine was running faster.
My Grandpa always told me two things: work hard and save money. I can admit there were several missteps along the way in fulfilling those two requirements. Ten years later, I feel like I finally made it. I’m not done just yet. There’s always room for improvement. It’s incredible. The ones who make the biggest impact don’t have to be around with you.
All I’m left with are my thoughts. They dwell on past-present. I hope I never forget him and what he’s done for me. I miss him everyday and more than anything in the world.
I’ve waited an eternity,
A year or two more,
Several seasons ago,
And all of the moons before,
What is love my dear?
Longing for you and us,
How can’t you see it all along,
The desire for us to belong,
We call it names and puzzles too,
How we can dodge the feelings of true,
Help me love and to know,
How we can go on without us to hold,
To love is to long for what you can’t have. Hope she reciprocates. The best ones are the ones only in dreams. How tragic.
All I wanted was love,
But we were too blind,
The lights are in our eyes,
And I’m just here for the ride,
You said three words,
But I believed it not,
Call it a lie for the heart,
A knot for the soul,
You told me it before,
And I’m here to let you go,
I’m surprised you ever loved me
I find the concept of love impossible to describe and put into words unless it’s the cliche Hollywood romanticized version. How a four lettered word can be so misused is beyond me.
I don’t go looking for love. No Tinder. No Plenty of Fish. No OK Cupid. None of that shit. It makes little sense to use dating apps considering they likely attract a different crowd — the one I’m not interested in. College years were more about hooking up and not so much about meaningful relationships. I hope anyone can see the difference or at least grow out of the hook up culture. What guys talk about behind close doors is a whole separate issue all together. I think what my co-worker in Texas said to his wife sums it up best, “Men are dogs. Just look for a good dog.” How moving.
Everyone I’ve dated or have been with were chance encounters. Looking back, all my relationships weren’t from any mutual friends. It’s interesting to think about. One day, we met randomly, started talking, and then a relationship happened — just like that. I hear a lot of people get introduced to their future love interest, but that seems so awkward to think about.
I’ve been told, “Daniel, you need to put yourself out there!” And then there’s, “How is it you’re single?!” All of which was from co-workers. My usual response is that I’m not really trying. I can’t fathom being in a relationship when I’m not done working on myself. It jeopardizes my own self-development. Odds are, you get too comfortable once you’re with someone and run the risk of being stagnant. I’m not looking to be a serial dater or go out of my way to find “the one”. Life isn’t some Hollywood romance with happily ever after the end. I’ll let love find me — naturally.