Forgive and forget?

I spent so many years being the forgotten one that I am having a hard time adjusting to the fact that family is now actively seeking out my company, advice and support. I excel at sitting on the outside, silently criticizing those around me. The recent barrage of phone calls, emails and social gatherings is making it hard for me to maintain that position. The problem is, I don’t know how to be a good, supportive, and loving family member. I was written off at such a young age, that I never learned to "play well with others", and show the love and kindness that so many now need. For every phone call or email I receive, I can think of ten of mine that went unanswered. They may have forgotten, or maybe never understood, the destruction their distanced caused me, but I, realizing the power I now hold, am finding it hard to forgive.

Is it necessary?

Today you expressed a desire to change, shift the way you view your surroundings, and while I agreed with you at the time, I am now having second thoughts. It is true, you are not the most positive person I have ever met, but you are, to a friend, one of the most sincere people I know, even if that means expressing yourself through tireless bitch sessions, and strategically placed barbs. Good or bad, we know where we stand with you. Each and every one of us loves you, the you that complains, gets angry, and thinks the world is conspiring against her. Without your cloudy personality, I am afraid you would loss your identity. Now I may be wrong, so change if that is what you desire, but please, I beg you, do not do it because someone on a mountain selfishly told you to be more positive.

Almost forgotten

I no longer anticipate your touch, words of encouragement, or blazing smile. In fact, your infectiously positive personality barely registers in my increasingly dreary days. Except for my waking hours, and occasionally during dreams, I don’t even think about you anymore. Watching you walk away was easier than you thought, and to think, you were going to “teach me a lesson”. If you want to know how damn simple this all has been, give me a call to talk about it, any time, night or day, please. . . .

I am a lucky man

While this day was spent apart, I want you to know that I long for nothing more than to spend an evening in your arms, and to return the undying love you have given me throughout the years. You make me proud of myself, for no matter what else I fuck up in my life, I will always know I did one thing right, and that was bringing your into my everyday. Happy Valentines day my love, I miss you.

Work and nothing but

For years I have blamed my jobs, bosses and surroundings for the incredible number of hours I worked. Regardless of how it started, it always ended with me angrily walking away from each position, promising that I would never let “that” happen again. In search of a final fix, I was lured to this island with promises of a nine-to-six workday; but, as I find myself leaving the office progressively later each evening, I am starting to think that it is not the employers or locales that are to blame, but the employee.

There is a great project going on called the six-word memoir (http://www.smithmag.net/sixwords/). If you haven't already, and you have a minute, visit the site and submit something. Speaking for myself, attempting to sum up ones life in six words is an incredible, and eye opening, experience. With that, I will leave you with mine:

Loved more than I ever deserved

Hello?

It appears that my absence no longer commands the same sense of longing that it once did. Instead, I have become a roadblock in the busyness of the everyday. This is a drastic shift. When I first left, there were a lot of sweet gestures, greedy to talk phone calls, and loving emails. Now, without my occasional attention grabbing outbursts, I fade into insignificancy, left to hang my heart on a few meaningless, end-of-the-night phone calls. I need something to save me here. I live a life of nothingness. Wake-up, eat, work, run, repeat – do you think that this is fun? I know you are busy, but I am tired, sober and lonely and I may be asking a lot, but please. . . .

Just another Sunday on the island

While running an "organized" road race yesterday, a spectator pointed at me, slashed his finger across his throat and angrily yelled at me in a language I don’t understand. I was propositioned twice. Another man was shot to death while his wife stood nearby. I thought the run would be a good chance to get out and see the island. I am starting to think there are some things in life better left unseen and unexplored.