...And I Was, Too.

My mind just never stops going. I feel this need this incredible “want” to figure things out. To find meaning – happiness. I just don’t really know what this happiness is that I yearn for. I write stories. Fiction. A way of putting my regrets, my loves, my failures, my winnings… all into a character that isn’t me, so that I have a method of examining myself from the outside. And yet that intangible thing still remains just out of my grasp. I think sometimes that it is all wrapped up in one thing – one person… but it isn’t. I know that there is something within myself that I must open a window into to examine. To right – correct a wrong that has been dealt to me. And yet I have no idea where to begin.

I am happy in my relationship with Noah. I am secure in knowing that we have a genuine love for each other. The only thing that can damage us is something that will rise from within us – one of us. Not something external. So then is that safe? Is that happiness?

Today I was taken with the thought that my parents were so vain in thinking that they could presume to bring an unwilling soul into this world. I am here, because they made me into being here. Now I am burdened with the task of finding my own meaning. My own happiness. We just aren’t given the choice. What happens when a soul such as mine discovers that this world is crap? Existence is, essentially, meaningless. I am here, and I am tasked with learning. The more I learn, the more I realize that it all amounts to zero. I exist to work at different jobs in a quest for myself – jobs that may or may not last. I work, to make money to keep myself and perhaps another, like Noah, alive. In the end, however – if I died today and my existence ceased to be, what mark would I have left on the world? What good would all my learning have done?

On the other hand, I find that my regrets – the things that I wish I didn’t put myself through – are the things that have taught me more than any class I have taken. My failing out of my first college taught me more about the true nature of life than any course would have. My marriage that ended in divorce taught me that love is subjective and changes along with the shades of reality that life affixes upon our perspectives of life. Britt Holbrook taught me that though we make oaths to remain connected to someone – whether it be in romance or friendship or even memory – that it too is dependant upon the stage of life, reality and need that our souls, hearts and minds may be in at the moment. He taught me that though it hurts, sometimes we just have to let go.

What you need might be what I despise -- though I will always love you. Or the way you were. Or what I believe you to be, or what you represent to me.

The only solace in this that I can think of is that view of destiny. That if life brings us an occurrence of bad or of good, each was necessary to bring us to our present moment – that we are and were always destined to become the person we are at this moment. If I am meant to be with person A, then it will turn out that way no matter what path I take – one path may take a longer time for me to get to the destined point Z, but no matter if I take that path, or path B, C, D, or J – I will get to point Z. Z being my destiny.

Resistance to reality is futile. It will only get you addicted to drugs, or booze, or some other means of deadening the disappointment that “this is it, like it or not.”

Remember those times when you were young, and you had those moments that seemed so awful and so cruel… and now when you look back on it you wish you could have those blissful moments of darkness back again? Like, Man, if my life could be so lucky as to suck because I couldn’t get Macon to ask me to the dance, even though I really dig his friend… So, perhaps, are the moments of grief that we have now. Perhaps the pain we go through today is really a happiness. We should take this crap with a smile. In 18 years, it could be a helluva lot more painful – or, at least, painful in a more severe way than it is today.

Ie, this too, shall pass. Tomorrow, we will wish we could experience it again.