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?

Observations

My parents are capable of having a Christmas that does not involve tears, and, like so many other important events in my family’s existence, I missed it. I am resentful of God, and find prayer an exercise in futility. Singing in the car drives me crazy. My parents-in-law are better people than I give them credit for. Anthropologists scare me. The holidays bring out the worst in me. I miss my brother. My sister needs to speak to someone who knows what they are talking about, and my family and I are not the answer. I am overly argumentative. Sister-in-laws boyfriend is a solid man and would be a fantastic addition to the family. A sense of family pride is invaluable, and too often overlooked. I can go months without drinking, unless told I am not allowed to do so. I lack control around food. Regardless of how we feel about the war, the men and women spending these days overseas deserve our utmost respect. And last, but not least, this Country is ready for either a President of color, or of a different gender. Happy holidays!

Sad. . .

How do you tell your little ones that mom and dad aren’t going to live together anymore? I was younger than he is now, about his sister’s age, so I don’t remember what my mom told me. Luckily, their mom was. Maybe she recalls the conversation and knows exactly what to say. Perhaps she comforts herself with the knowledge that we turned out okay, so they will do the same. I can only hope that she knows what she is doing, and that those children have the constitution to fight through this, and understand, without hatred, frustration and regret, that sometimes, life is just destined to repeat itself.

Relationships

“Relationships either work or they don’t”

I cannot accept this as a general proposition, can you? Are relationship just supposed to work? If so, please let me know – kill the skeptic in me. Let me know that it isn’t work, a struggle.

My feeling is that the constant back and forth – the grind if you will – is what makes it worth while. Without the pain, doubt and worry, relationships fade, get taken for granted, and eventually, forgotten. Don’t get me wrong, I do not think cycles of misery necessarily lead to lasting and fulfilling bonds . . . but they can aid in that process.

There is a reason that humans, as a default, look for excuses to create conflict; we need to know that the time is worth it, that there is something worth a struggle. Anything easy is just that, easy, and we all know how that turns out (or am I wrong?).

Every great relationship I have ever had was worth fighting for, and it took just that.

My Wife: She is everything I have ever wanted. I loved her the moment I saw her, I knew that she was it – and we had never spoken. After months of perpetual flirting, she informed me, with some trepidation, that she would never date a man who was not of her race (and, preferably, religion) – a challenge. She faltered, I fought, and, to the best of my recollection, her parents cried. Upon meeting them, I knew what she was fighting against, and it was for me. Since that time, we have battled, screamed, and doubted, but we have persevered – seven years on, and our heads are still above water. During that time, we have come to understand that we are different people, with separate passions, goals and desires. She is religious; I question the existence of a G*d who subjects so many to so much. She believes; I am a skeptic. She is honest; I have more secrets than I can admit to myself. She loves to talk; I prefer silence. I drink; she lacks the desire to mask pain. I am angry; she is happiness in the human form. In sum, we are different people, and that causes tension, confusion and questions. Out of that, we probe and attempt to understand. In sum, we don’t always see eye to eye, but we understand that the fight is worth the end game. It could be easier – she, with someone of like color and beliefs; me, with someone lacking good judgment and morals; but why, where is the fun in that?

Partner in Crime (a/k/a Best Friend): I hated him at first glance, and wished him ill will, and he to me. How we worked past that, I don’t recall – but he is the only person I have ever been honest with. He knows my pains, thoughts and understands the deviousness of my soul. When my brother passed, many disappeared, never to be heard from again. He forced me to face reality. Instead of heeding my call to back off, he talked with his parents, paid for a counselor and demanded that I deal. He may have saved my life. For that, he will always be worth the fight – I would walk away from life as I know it if asked. But, as easy as that sounds, we differ. I walked away, left him to fend for himself. Eventually, he moved on, out, and is experiencing a life you only read about. Through it all, we fought to make it work, maintained contact, and refused to give up. It would have been easy. I hate the phone, he has an active social calendar. Yet, never lost contact. He is my support system. My brother. My best friend.

There are others: my Twin – getting past your tough exterior was not easy, but one of my greatest joys, a life without your companionship would be a life lacking. My Sparring Partner, a difficult wall to climb (and I am not sure I have scaled it). You keep me on my toes, and make me sad. One day, hopefully soon, you will recognize that you are an amazing, talented, intelligent person and worthy of so much more.

If I had accepted the above as true, I would have missed out on all of this. I would have bailed, as none of these relationships “worked” from the get go. Truth be told, if relationships just “worked”, I would be moving aimlessly through life, never understanding what it meant to love. So again, I ask, are there relationships that just work – no struggle involved? If so, are they strong? Do they make your heart hurt when you feel a blip? No judgments, just curious.

Lifetime of fun

It was an honest conversation.

It started innocently enough with me mentioning -- in passing -- that I had spoken with my Partner in Crime, and that his life was crazy (fun) at the moment. I should have known. After a few probing questions, it quickly spiraled into me explaining that, if I were single (i.e., not dating and/or married to the love of my life), I would be a completely different person. I would be an animal.

She played it off, but I think I hurt her. I think she believes that I feel caged, that I would rather be overseas, lusting after nameless, faceless women.

Truth be told, while part of me will always envy my single friends, I would not trade my place in the world for anything. The past six years have been the best of my life. While my friends are out struggling to bed models, I have perfection, at my finger tips, on a moments notice. No clubs, no awkward moments, no drunken fumblings. I know what she wants, what she requires, and that brings me untold peace.

Let those guys have their momentary fun, for mine, while seemingly mundane and repetitive, is real, and will last a life time.

Details

I started reading American Psycho yesterday, and while obnoxiously thorough, it got me thinking -- what happens to the details?

Looking back on my life, I recall the who’s, what’s and when’s, but the details are gone, lost to my subconscious. I remember the first and last name of almost every person I have ever done anything with, but the intricacies of the moments are gone.

Without these seemingly minor memories, it is impossible to accurately reconstruct my life -- it is nothing more than a seemingly endless string of actions. I haven’t had enough alcohol, drugs, or hard hits to the head to justify this outcome. Since I don’t have an answer, I am going to blame it on my complete and utter lack of an attention span – if only I focused for an entire conversation, sexual experience or show, it would be different.

Accordingly, I am going to spend a week trying to appreciate the smallness of my day, actions, and statements. I am hoping that if I operate on the micro level, the macro will take care of itself.

Simple request

By all measures, I have a perfect life -- great job, beautiful wife, three loving families, and money in the bank, but I am scared. I am scared because no matter how much I achieve, or how many “goals” I check off my list, I am still the kid at the back of the class wondering what the fuck is going on. I just don’t see it anymore. I lost my voice.

When I get excited, people find it immature. When I get impassioned, I am getting ahead of myself. When I am insecure, I am seeking attention. But you have a warped perception. I am twenty-nine, worried to death that I will fail, that I am nothing more than a highly paid cart attendant – performing tasks that allow the masses to function effortlessly. When taken apart from the whole, I have accomplished nothing more than pulling the wool over the eyes of over-worked and underpaid professors, falling into a job or two and hanging around just long enough to be liked, but never long enough to be tested.

To be great is oversold – I don’t long for it. I have smaller ambitions – I want to be understood, appreciated and accepted for what I am not.

As I remember it, X-Mas 1988

They are nice honey.

Try them on!

Maybe later, they are too big, and I am tired.

But just try them on, they will look great on you.

I told you, I will try them on later, now be quiet.

Okay . . . Merry Christmas.

Love of my life, Pt. 1

We had one rough patch – our final year in graduate school. I gave her every reason to leave – I was aloof, cold, and mean. I wanted to see if she would stay with the me who wakes up angry at the world; who asks ridiculous questions, like “why?”. I think I wanted her to bail so I could continue to think the world was against me. I had broken lesser women, and figured she would fall in line. I didn’t give her enough credit.

Love will set you free

It creates emotional attachments, worries and irrational thoughts. When I was alone, void of feelings, I thought of no one, moved untouched through life with nothing but my own existence to keep me awake at night. Now, I spend my days worried about those I love. I worry that I have not given the woman I love the emotional support she deserves; that my twin will move on, find a new side kick in my self imposed exile; that my partner in crime will spiral out of control before I can get to him; that my older sister will resent my failure to be her rock during her time of need; that my little sister will never know me for anything more than her absent brother; that my sparring partner will forget our comedic banter; that intelligent will give up and settle into a life of what could have beens; that Mr. Comedy’s life will find its stride, and I will miss it. This is what it has brought me, a world of self-doubt and concern for others – it was easier when I was slowly suffocating on my own-self pity.

The good fight

He lost it all – the wife, the house, the dream – but he is fighting. Fighting to prove that he is every bit the person he knew he would become. I admire his desire, perseverance in the face of daunting odds, and I hope he knows that I love him. Keep up the good fight, without people like you, people like me lose hope, and allow ourselves to be defined by life’s many failures.

Stupidity

I am generally not one to criticize, but I just read an article about a football player, Troy Williamson of the Minnesota Vikings, who was docked $25,000+ for missing last Sunday's game to attend his maternal grandmother funeral (http://sports.espn.go.com/nfl/news/story?id=3100835), and was blown away. I don't know about anyone else, but I find this absolutely absurd -- who the hell docks someone pay for attending the funeral of a family member?? I understand punishing someone for juvenile, illegal and/or asinine decisions/behavior, but penalizing someone for attending a funeral is downright offensive. We, as a society, need to recognize a mature, adult decision when we see one. Instead of suiting up on Sunday to play a GAME, this man took it upon himself to be with his family in a time of need, to arrange a funeral for the woman who helped raise him, to make travel plans for his siblings who are serving this country as members of the armed forces, and to take time to grieve. This is wrong, plain and simple. I have never been a Vikings fan, nor have I ever rooted against them, but this one act has turned me into an ardent non-supporter of this organization (the same organization that continued to pay players a few years back who were allegedly involved in the "sex boat" scandal(two players were ultimately fined by the NFL (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2005_Minnesota_Vikings_boat_cruise_scandal)). This is what is wrong with sports, and I truly hope I am not the only person outraged by this decision.