It is what it is and that is fine by me

As I scoured the internet for yet another quick fix to my ever increasing sense of incompleteness, I realized that for as long as I can remember, I have been obsessed with thoughts of the unknown, unattainable, and flat out unreasonable. My constant pursuit of change has caused me to flee states, walk away from high paying jobs, switch residences at an alarming rate and disappear from the lives of loved ones. However, until today, I chalked it up to my youthful pursuit of happiness. The problem is, I am no longer young, nor am I seeking happiness as much as planning my next great escape. Truth be told, I am afraid – afraid to wake up thirty years from now and realize that this is all my life has to offer.

Up to this point, I have fought a gallant fight to stay one step ahead of permanence – figuring that if I vanished before it took hold, I would bypass the inevitable realization that I settled. So in an effort to understand this irrational aversion to the known, I spent the evening pondering my life’s decisions, and asking whether the life I have before me is one I am willing to stay with for the long haul. And the answer is, to my great surprise, I am. Now it does not encompass all my unattainable aspirations, but then again, neither have any of the other lives I recreated for myself after yet another attempt at perfection. The bottom line is, for the first time in my life, I do not think I would be able to forgive myself if I were to run from this life – as hard as it is at times – only to realize thirty years from now that my obsession with the other had led me down a path to nothing.

Honesty . . .

It was a suggestion, a passing thought really, "you should talk to someone about that" -- nothing more. Now, after heeding her advice, I realize the gravity of my mistake -- the look on his face is riddled with fear and confusion -- I thought psychiatrists had heard it all -- I was wrong.

Lonely

All I ever wanted was to be left alone. My wish has come true. Now what?

Confessions

To some this will sound weird, to others, it is an accepted part of who we are, but I feel like the world is ready to know -- needs to know really -- and it is better you hear it from me, the source, than a random, so here it goes: my wife and I have adopted three family members consisting of a plastic potato and two stuffed sponges. They are the greatest things to ever happen to us, and I am not embarrassed to admit that. Without their love, support, and constant good cheer (no matter how bad it gets, they always have a smile), my wife and I’s relationship would be an empty shell of its currently splendid self. Further, the boys (as we refer to them), have been embraced by our friends, and accepted into our extended family. They are our children. They make us proud. And we love them.

Self-promotion

It is not much, but if you missed it, here is a link to something I wrote: http://sixsentences.blogspot.com/2008/01/thank-you-all.html. If you decide to visit the 6S site, please look around and read some of the entries by the other authors, they are absolutely incredible, and you will not regret it.

Tuck and roll

I fell down a flight of stairs today. They were marble. I had my hands full. It hurt. The doctor told me I would grow into my body. He was wrong.

Tomorrow is a new day

I see fear in the face staring back at me, and realize that I am solely responsible for the pain, destruction and despair. Through the years, I have stripping him of everything he once held dear, and allowed him to lose his way. Like all great destroyers, I stroked his insecurities, massaged his anger, and goaded him into a sense of inadequacy. It isn’t fair. For as long as I can remember, he has been everything I have ever asked; but I neglect, abuse and take out my daily struggles on his psyche. In this moment, I see him pulling back, becoming more and more hesitant to keep my head above the fray. Twice in the past three days I have been chastised for my treatment of this lonely soul, scolded for bottling him up, and questioned for my refusal to stop this vicious lifelong cycle. I know what I must do, but lack the strength to forge this road alone, and he knows this. “Today will be the last time” I finally say aloud; but he knows me, and sheds one solitary tear as I turn off the light and back, ever so slowly, away from the mirror.

Actions

There is no excuse for not thinking through our actions, and realizing the pain and destruction our selfish decisions can wreck on others lives. It is one thing to sink our own ship, but morally reprehensible to drag the innocent along for the ride.

Who is laughing now?

You stood in the yard, sunbeams bowing at your feet, and I knew I loved you – I was nine. For the better part of ten-years, I struggled to impress upon you the importance of your being, and my desperate need to have you in my life -- you wouldn’t have it. You had your own existence, and kept it safely shielded from me. For all those years, my world was packed into the possibility, the hope, the dream, all to be stripped bare by your heartless selfishness. Had you not ignored me, laughed with the others and ran from my touch, things would have been different. Obviously, that is no longer the case. By the way, for what it is worth, minus the tears, duct tape and your god-damn whimpering, you are still the love of my life.

New Years Resolutions

Now that it is January 6th, and I have had a number of days to chew on my resolutions, and I feel that it is appropriate to put them in writing. As a way of background, I usually pick something asinine, like to be a better person, husband, son, bother, friend, etc. -- but it should not take a new year to do these things; I should be striving for these goals year round, so I will not fall prey to those same traps this year. Instead, I have decided to choose things that are outside of my comfort zone, and will require a concerted effort on my part. So here they are:

1) Run 2000 miles: now I run quite bit, but have never sniffed this number (an average of roughly 5.5 miles a day). In order to accomplish it, I need to make some drastic changes. No more late night beers, followed by countless cigarettes. Days need to end at 10 pm and begin at 5:30 am, no small feat. Further, I must avoid injury, a lifelong battle. Subsumed in this quest, is my goal to run a 50 mile ultra-marathon (which I have already signed up for), and to run a 3 hr. marathon. Here is to pounding some pavement;

2) Write something inspiring: As you can tell, I am not a “positive” writer. In fact, most people who read me worry about my psyche, and are eagerly anticipating my eventual meltdown. However, I am not that person, and want to construct something that bring tears of joy to someone’s eyes, instead of tears of sadness. And finally;

3) Learn to cook: I want to create gastric orgasm -- a meal so good that it makes the eater lightheaded, confused and desperate for more.

So here is to wishing all of your hopes, dreams and desires come to fruition in the New Year. Happy 2008!

Your guess is as good as mine

“I thought we were happy . . .” she sobbed uncontrollably. As I cradled her wilting body, trying desperately to sooth her, it occurred to me that the blood spatter on the wall resembled a doughnut. At this I laugh, and know that hell’s gates have opened a bit wider, eagerly awaiting my arrival. “What the fuck is so funny” she hisses, looking at me angrily, and I have no answer -- how do you tell the woman you love that you find humor in the final remains of her soul mate?