Broken, shattered, destroyed...

What does it mean to truly be broken?  Can a person really be shattered?  Is the spirit of a man (or woman) truly able to be destroyed?

I never used to believe in love.  Sure, I've used the word before, I'm sure that everyone else has too but I never really knew what it meant until now.

If you truly love someone, they have the ability to make you feel whole or to break your heart into a million tiny pieces.  If you really do care about someone, they can lift your spirit higher than an eagle flies or bury you so deep that you suffocate under the weight of the pain.

I didn't know that love had such power; I didn't know that a simple emotion could leave such a lasting effect, but then, love never is truly simple, is it?

I know now that I have truly loved someone, though I always suspected it to be the case.  The evidence is not, however, in the joy that I feel from being with this person; instead, the proof lies in the pain I feel now that I want to enjoy the company of someone new.  That's the inherent problem, you see:  we don't know what we have until it is taken away from us and we don't know how deep the wounds are until someone sticks their finger in.

I have tried to move on, tried to grow, and tried to change.  I have made a concerted effort to go on with my life and live for myself, but to no avail.  I have met someone that I truly care about; someone whose time I enjoy and who can actually bring the light of joy to my jaded spirit.  That's the worst part, I think; because I now know again a spark of happiness, I realize the void left behind that can never be lit again.

I think that I'm broken, shattered beyond repair.  I hate that I loved someone once and now I'm ruined, like the dress that you spilled red wine on the first time that you wore it.  I'm going to have to tell the new person in my life, but I don't want to give up on the last strand of hope.  Sometimes it's necessary though.  Sometimes we need to know that there is no hope so that we can just settle into the painful rut of existence.

It's just not fair that mistakes that seemed so small, so innocent, can still haunt me to this day.  It's not right that, because of a simple decision, the rest of my life is ruined.  I hate that something that I did so very long ago can condemn me to a life alone.  It's just the way of the world.

I'm broken; I'm shattered; I'm destroyed.  I loved once, and was loved, and will never be the same again.  Anything else is just a dull glow to a heart that has once seen - and been burned by - the light.  Never again will my heart be warm in the cold still of night.

The deck is stacked against us...

I was in love once...

It was a love that, by all of the rules of society, should never have been...

It was a love that, for all intents and purposes, was wrong...

I was STILL in love once...

I truly still love him to this day...

I truly still think about him constantly...

I truly can't get him out of my head...

"It was in that moment that I knew that I loved him with every ounce of my being; it was also in that moment that I knew that I never cared if I ever saw him again..." (Another Roadside Attraction -Tom Robbins)

Just what does this mean for me?  It means that I love someone and can never let him go.  It means that, no matter what happens in my life, he will always be in the back of my mind.  It means that for the rest of my existence, I will (unwillingly and unconsciously) compare everyone that ever dares to care for me or for whom I even chance to care to HIM.

Why must I suffer so?  Truly, this is a deficiency that is inherent in all of humanity.  As one of the few species capable of real love, we suffer from all of its flaws.  If you truly love someone, then they are always in your heart.  You may no longer be IN love with them; you may no longer want to be with them; and still, they are always there, buried deep beneath the screens and shields that you put up in your everyday life.

I do still love him.  That is a true statement.  I dream about him nightly.  It almost hurts when I awaken and realize that the dreams aren't real.  I often wish that I could stay asleep and live in that dream world forever.  Dreams can be so cruel.

We often dream of our lives in such a candy-coated fashion.  It is in our nature to imagine things the way that we think they should be.  Still, nothing is as it should be and nothing is predictable; but what do we do when life stacks all the cards against us?  Why must the house always win?

Even those couples who are lucky enough to find that special someone who is the love of their life (I know it sounds horrible but watch The Notebook (New Line Platinum Series)) are still punished for their good fortune.  Though I can't get "the one" out of my mind, I stopped hoping to spend my life with him long ago.

If there is one thing that is true about life, it is that we grow and change.  We are constantly changing and using our experiences to modify both our personalities and our outlook on life.  The problem arises when we try to commit to a lifetime with a person who is equally mutable.

There is no "one" right person for anyone.  I realized years ago that there is a right person for right now.  The reason is that, at this point in my life, I have a specific set of goals, a specific group of ideals, and a specific way of behaving.  Someone in this world of billions matches me perfectly.  In a decade, however, who can say that the changes in who I am will match the changes in my so-called soul-mate?  Who can say what hand they will be dealt and how life will ultimately change them?
There is no one right person for anyone at all, though the image of the one I loved is always with me.  He is the ideal that I shall always strive for and he is the failure I will always cry over.  There is nothing that can break that cycle.  Nothing hurts more than realizing that I lost him, especially since I know that I have only myself to blame.

I truly loved him and, though I now realize that our time was limited, I still can't help but wonder:  did we have that once-in-a-lifetime connection?  Did we have what it took to be together always?  If so, then I really fucked shit up.  It's my fault that we are over and, now that we have both grown up a little and changed a lot, there is no going back... it hurts more than you can guess and more than even I will ever know.

Logic tells me that I will find another love, but I don't want to.  Evolution tells me that we grow and change and that I am not even the same person that I was then, but I don't care.  My heart tells me that I love him and my dreams tell me that he still matters and I feel sad for the hand that we were dealt because, no matter how much I try to move on, I think that the deck was stacked against us...

Is the movie over already...?

So it's been an incredibly long time since I've actually had the opportunity to post anything. I am going to try and remedy that. I find that I miss being able to sign in here and say whatever the hell I want. It's a great way to relieve stress and work through problems because I can write whatever I feel like and no one can do a damn thing about it! I have decided that blogging is quite therapeutic and considerably cheaper than actually going to therapy.

Side note: don't judge me. There are lots of people who are in therapy and, if you want the honest truth, the ones who don't go are really the ones that seem to need it the most.

Alright, so I'm not going to spend my first blog in forever ranting and raving about politics or religion or some existential sense of human nature. Instead, I'm going to talk about the crap that's going on quite close to home, right here in my very own life.

At 29 years old, I have finally decided that it is time to grow up. I realized a long time ago that this horrible west Texas town in which I live is really nothing more than a black hole that sucks you in and clamps down on your very soul to keep you here in what is commonly called the "buckle of the Bible belt." Funny thing about belt buckles: they tend to be gaudy, bulky, and worth less than the hunk of metal they are made from, though they are generally priced at about ten times what they are actually worth. Come to think of it, that really does describe Abilene, but I digress.

I made the firm decision that it was time for a change. I am working on getting the license necessary to have a career - that's right, I said it. Doesn't that sound grown up? I even took a bit of my own advice and made the decision that in order to save money before I start my program next January, I should just get out of this ridiculous town while the getting is good and stay with my grandmother. It would be cheaper, there are more job opportunities in the Houston area (and of course the pay is better) and that's where I need to be for school anyway. I know it sounds silly to move in with granny but sometimes in life you have to take a step backward in order to move forward.

I even went so far as to set a date for this change. I have been doing everything that I can to prepare myself for the worst part of any move: the actual moving itself. I would rather have a frontal lobotomy than have to move, but unfortunately, it's a necessary evil.

A strange thing has happened though. As much as I am thrilled to be leaving this horrible desert town full of hypocritical heathens and moving back home to family and old friends and heathens who don't try to hide it, I have started to have second thoughts about leaving. At first I was sure that it was just the soul-sucking power of Abilene that was creating my doubts but then I realized that as much as I don't want to be here and even with all of the reasons I have to go, there are some good things about my time in Abilene (score one point for my therapist). One of those redeeming factors is the fact that I have made quite a few friends in my time here. There are many people that I will miss and I am extremely close to some of them.

The realization that I was soon to be separated from people about which I care so dearly was like a ton of bricks. Of course I have responded in the only natural way and am trying to spend as much time with those people as I can, between work and class and preparing to move into the next phase of my life.

Lately, though, I feel like I've just seen a thrilling, edge of your seat wonder of cinematography, only to be confused at the conclusion because it builds and builds on itself until it just simply ends. What I mean to say is I feel like a disappointed moviegoer. Where is the resolution phase of the story development? Why does this part of my life suddenly seem that it is just going to stop at the end of the chapter with no transition into the future.

I think that part of the reason that I feel so dejected is that, though I truly want to spend time with my friends, it almost seems that they have already written me off. It's like they have chosen to go ahead and cut their losses and just kill me off so that I no longer have a part in the storyline. I'm sure that's not how they mean to make me feel - or is it?

I'm so confused. I really don't want to leave my friends behind but I know that what I am doing is the best thing for me and, for once in my life, I am going to be a selfish bastard and do just that. I just don't want them to forget about me so soon. Dammit, I'm not even fucking gone yet.

Maybe I'm overreacting and things aren't really as bad as they seem. All I know is that I'm going to take charge with the little time that I have left. I'm going to write myself into the end of this chapter one way or another. If I get to spend time with my friends before I go then I will be happy as can be; but if they really do write me off too soon, then that's just more incentive to get the hell out of here because obviously the friendships that I value so dearly don't really mean as much as I think that they do. Either way I come out on top and since I've always been the guy who bends over backwards for other people I am going to make damn sure that I take care of me first for a change!

Finding Your Fear

Everything we do, every day of our lives, stems from our natural (and sometimes unnatural) fears. Fear is the basis of functionality for life. How we deal with our fears is what separates man from beast and mature men from the unenlightened.

Suppose that you are out for a night on the town. You've got your best girl (or guy) on your arm and someone starts to show some over-the-top (and probably unwanted) attention to your mate. Jealousy often rears its ugly head and we blame the green-eyed monster for our possessive reaction but we should delve a little deeper into the cause of our anger and unease at the situation. Why do we get jealous? A secondary emotion, jealousy is triggered by a more sinister master - fear. The fear of losing something (or someone) precious to us against our will causes the reaction when someone else shows too much attention to our loved ones. Without that seed of fear, jealousy would never spring into the picture.

Imagine that you are crossing the street at a busy intersection. Caution, which we attribute to our intelligence and our ability to reason, prohibits most of us from just bolting into traffic, dodging one car after another. Once again, we are placing too much credit on the wrong instinct. What makes us cautious? Why do we look both ways before crossing the street or check the water depth in the pool before diving in head first? Our ability to reason isn't at the core of our desire to show caution. Once again, the culprit is fear; a deep-seated fear of injury to ourselves spawns our careful actions. Without the dark touch of fear, caution often goes to the wind.

Fear does so much for us. It helps to remind us to think before we act. It sparks a whole serious of emotions and instigates trains of rational thought that, we hope, keep us safe from harm and far from trouble. Horror movies and thrillers take full advantage of the power of fear. The adrenaline rush brought on by fear is big business in Hollywood and even this use of the most primal of emotions for profit has something to teach us. As time goes on and the terror genre gets deeper and darker, we learn that the more realistic the situation, the more intense the reaction of our fear. No longer are the movie monsters of our pasts sufficient to draw out the response of fear. Michael Myers may still elicit a shock when he pops up alive for the thousandth time but the fear reaction is subdued - there is no danger there. Now we reach to new heights to activate our response and intensify our experience. The movie monsters of today are serial killers and sadistic murderers and pictures of men and societies gone horribly wrong. Will these, too, one day lose their power over us?

Why is fear such a driving force in our lives? Why does it have so much power over us? Why is one simple primal instinct at the heart of everything we do? Think back on human history, long before the advent of advanced cultures. Mankind has three basic needs (simplified from earlier versions): food, shelter (the need for clothing is often included in the need for shelter), and companionship (including both the social and sex instincts of man). Yet even at the deepest roots of these most simple of necessities is the heavy hand of our fear. It is the fear of suffering in the elements that makes us seek shelter; the fear of starvation that sends us searching for food; the fear of loneliness and the end of our species that causes us to seek out others like us. Everything that we do, as individuals and as societies, can be traced back to the guiding force of our ever-present fears.

The trick is not to let our fears overwhelm us. Of course our fear is essential to our lives, if not it wouldn't have such power over us. We just have to remember that, though our baser fears sow the seeds for our thoughts, reactions, and emotions, they are not meant to control us. They serve their purpose most effectively if we let them ignite the flame of reason but not overpower it. Otherwise, we would be no better than the lower mammals, living on pure instinct and falling victim to the power of our fears.