WARNING!!! This post is incredibly raw and honest. Please do not read if you do not wish to know. Just listen to “These Arms of Mine” by Otis Redding, and you’ll get the gist.
You have been warned.
Ever since starting this blog, I have been “safe” with my posts. I realized early on that if anyone was going to actually read it, it would be people who knew me – therefore, I had to go easy with my topics and the body of my text.
This way of thinking is not me.
The real reason I started this was to be able to write, pure and simple. No fear, no editor, no rules or regulations. Just me in type, sharing my thoughts – be they ugly or beautiful or both. The unfortunate thing about loving Dr. Hunter S. Thompson is that he becomes an inspiration and influence. And, in all honesty, I have let him down.
There are three posts in my drafts folder that I have written since starting this blog that I haven’t had the guts to post. There are even a few that I just straight up deleted, never to be read. Why? Because I was afraid. Afraid of what you might think of me if I told the truth. Afraid of alienating myself. Finally putting that nail in the coffin of my social life – proving once and for all that I am a total wreck incapable of true human interaction. Well, no more.
Why on Earth should I be afraid? What do I have to lose, really? Anyone who would deny me for being honest about my thoughts and hopes, fears and regrets, dreams and nightmares is not really someone I want to know. Then again, my being honest may show you that I am not someone you wish to know. And, that’s okay. I understand that sometimes someone who just throws it out there can be scary. Can seem crazy or selfish or… whatever. I don’t mind if this wigs you out, and you feel like you just don’t want to get involved. That really is okay, and I do not blame you one bit.
However, it’s the truth of me. Naked, at last.
Doctor, this is for you.
I have loved many times in my life, but I have only been in love once – and I am the reason she left me. I will have to spend the rest of my days living like someone under a curse; forever loving a person who will never love me again, while never being able to love another – for the rest of my life. And, even if I were able to reach a point where I could let someone in? There will always, ALWAYS, be that part of me that will wonder “what if”. It may not be wise, or right, but it’s the truth – right now. I am haunted, and I have only myself to blame. And, that is the most difficult thing of all.
I have tried, for over a year and a half now, to move on – let go – find peace – whatever. Reached out to friends, and kept a lot inside. Nothing has helped. I feel like if I could just have one really honest conversation with her it would help, but that will never happen. She has shut down big time, and will not even entertain the notion of a conversation.
Therein lies the problem. I can list the things that should have me moved on and flying by now. Bullet-ed with pie charts and graphs. Reasons why she probably isn’t the one for me. But, none of that matters. When I see her, I break. When I think of her, I break. When I remember her I smile and glow – then I break. It is the wound from Weathertop that will not heal.
In all honesty, I am tired of it. Al of this pining and dreaming. Waiting and hoping. I know – KNOW – it will never ever happen. I know she will never take me back. One of her greatest gifts is the age old art of the grudge – and she will not be moved, no matter what happens. She clings to it as if it gives her life. I cannot take that from her, as we all have our way of dealing. Our ways of keeping ourselves safe from harm, or those who would do us harm. And, I have earned it. I cannot tell you how horrible it feels to have gone from best friend to big bad wolf. Even holy water cannot wash that away.
I miss her every day. Even now, all this time later, songs remind me of her. She is in my dreams. I see pictures of us madly in love and I cannot escape the pain I feel once the joy of remembering washes in.
Perhaps that is the key. Remembering us well. Instead of bathing in the guilt and regret and shame – soak in the loving remembrances of the time we loved one another. She was, and still is, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Magical. Truly, magical. And, I miss her so very much.
The only thing I hope is, that I did not hurt her so badly that she is now afraid to let herself be loved. I wish her that, with all my heart. That she will, one day, allow someone to love her – no matter who that may be. I mean it. And, yeah, I know I could and should feel the same way about myself – but, I don’t. I don’t feel like I deserve it. Not trying to be dramatic or fishing for sympathy – that’s just the truth of how I feel. I have had my chance, and I blew it. Over and over again. Enough.
What matters to me now is the choices I make from here on out. What matters is the present, and how I choose to respond to it. I will make mistakes, for sure. But, I will never make the same mistakes again. The gangrenous limb has been severed, and the wound is clean and healing. With a little love, and a lot of hugs and laughs it ought to heal nicely. And, though there will always be a scar, it’ll be a good scar. One to compare with the other guys on the boat as we hunt the great white shark terrorizing our little island community.
It’s okay if you have made it this far and don’t know what to say. It’s okay if you say nothing, and never even admit to me that you read it. I can only hope you understand that I needed to say it. To get it out. To finally let loose all the songs and the letters and the drawings and the… all of it, that I have kept inside unsure of how to release it. Tomorrow truly will be a new day.
I am, ultimately, just a person. A person like everyone else. I have my thoughts and hopes, fears and regrets, dreams and nightmares. I’m just too stupid to know you shouldn’t talk about them on the damn internet. (grin)
Okay, off to watch some Adult Swim and hopefully sleep.
Stay classy San Diego. And, thank you for listening.
P.S. In a perfect word I would have been able to post some Otis Redding for you to listen to while you read that. Alas, alas, alas…
P.P.S. I still feel like I played it safe.