Say what?

I long to say something profound, to impress you with my mastery of the English language, but it never comes. I think, formulate, open my mouth and fuck it up. Your constant look of confusion would be comical it were not directed at me. I promise, I am deeper than I appear, have more to offer than a stupid grin and a canned joke; if given the chance, you may one day see past my ineptness, and appreciate me for what I am not – articulate.

I am sorry...

I know that you do not blame me, but I can not help but to blame myself. I have a sinking suspicion that if I had given your very rational fears even the slightest credence, you would have listened to the voice that created your initial wave of concern, and things might have turned out differently. I should have protected you. I failed at that and I am extremely sorry—I will never let it happen again.

**Head bobbing off beat**

Every person I know longs to be somewhere else, doing something different. I am no exception. If I am honest, and I rarely am when it comes to these type of things, I want to be a member of a dance troupe. I can see it now, me and my crew gyrating down the street guided by our freedom and the smooth beats of [name your favorite artist here]. I figure all I need is style, rhythm, dedication, years of professional coaching, and six lucky individual to believe in the dream. . . .

Growing pains

He attempted independence at twenty-one, but could not rid himself of his overbearing family and their ever present fears about his health. At twenty-two, he received both a gift – the long awaited transplant – and a curse – the added fear of a full body revolt. Now, however, a year later, at the age of twenty-three, he felt himself breaking free from his caged-self. For the first time, he was strong, capable, and free from the daily regiment of drugs that had kept his body viable since birth. As he giddily spoke to them about his revised hopes and dreams, he felt a shift in the family dynamic – he was no longer only resented by his siblings for receiving all the attention, but also by his parents for not giving it back. They had dedicated their lives to making his last, and he wanted nothing more than to experience everything they had foregone to care for him. And on what should have been the happiest of days, he learned his cruelest lesson, no love is selfless.

Scared into hiding

I tell people I am neurotic about my personal information because I do not want to be found. The truth is, I long to be discovered by those I abandoned. To be told that my absence is noticed, that my sins can be forgiven. At this point, even a scathing email would be a welcome relief, as it would confirm that my presence meant something. Putting the excuses aside, the fear that no one is looking is the real reason I mask my identity. For the thought that I have been erased—by my own doing—sickens me to no end.

You are the light at the end of my dark tunnel

I fear that my overbearing presence has trampled your dreams; that you will one day look back on your life with regret because I dominated it. I have never had anybody be dependent on my existence, and that intimidates me. What happens if it doesn’t work out; if I choose a path that leads to a life of unfullfillment? I worry that you were meant for something more than this……than me. The thought of clipping your wings and making you less of an asset to this world than you are meant to be paralyzes me.

I want nothing more than for you to tell me that this will all work out, that we will continue to be as happy tomorrow as I perceive us to be today; but again, that would be me laying the weight of my selfish single-mindedness on your shoulders. It is not your job to placate my demons, you are more important than that. I fell in love with you because of your passion for life, and want nothing more than to continue to see that fire rage. So, as we reach our next cross-road, please be honest with me—and regardless of how I react, I want you to stand by your desires, for, at the end of the day, it is more important for me to have you shine that it is for me to get what is easy.

Thirty-two years and counting

I have thought about this post for weeks now, trying relentlessly to compose the perfect piece to honor this occasion—but, as I have come to accept, there is no combination of words that I can put together that do this day, or you for that matter, justice. Thus, you are stuck with my tired, oft stated, and dull birthday wish.

S, you are the best person I, or anyone who knows you, has ever met. Everyday of your thirty-two years have been a blessing, and we all long to spend the next sixty plus in your presence. While others struggle to leave their mark on the world, yours is already firmly entrenched. I hope you take this one day to realize just how amazing you are, and understand that each and everyone of us are is complete and total awe of you on a daily basis. Your kind heart, gentle smile, and constantly outstretched hand makes us better, even if we grumble at yet another one of your “good person” ideas. Nobody is perfect, but you are damn close. It is both and honor and a pleasure to be able to spend this day—even if it is 1500 miles away—with you. We love you, and wish you the happiest of birthdays.

Titles

I could not think of anything to write about, so I decided to take the fist few songs that came onto my ipod and use their titles in a story. They appear in the order in which they played.

Everybody knows that there is so much more to this seemingly two-headed boy than meets the eye. While he appears to be stuck up the spout of life, dreaming of a wild world, he is bound to become more, a man of conviction. Amongst his future accomplishments, he will build Havana, under the cover of darkness, in his small section of the world; artfully recreating the place his parents once called home. But in this moment, there is no rush, for he knows that all in good time, perfection will come. And while waiting on the night, he will slip between the bars of society, pucker his loose lips and kiss the gentle moon.

Songs: (1) Everybody Knows by Gougers; (2) There Is So Much More by Brett Dennen; (3) Two-Headed Boy by Neutral Milk Hotel; (4) Up the Spout by Mateo Messina; (5) Wild World by Cat Stevens; (6) Man of Conviction by Brandon Rhyder; (7) Build Havana by Future Clouds & Radar; (8) All In Good Time by Ron Sexsmith; (9) Waiting on the Night by The Greencards; (10) Between the Bars by Elliott Smith; (11) Loose Lips by Kimya Dawson; (12) Gentle Moon by Sun Kil Moon.