At The Last

I found my break to be ponderously long, and my paycheck a bit short this week. Nevertheless, I will have my bearings back come Monday morning. I’m a good, level headed guy, and I believe in myself and the direction of my life. This blog has come to represent a painting done layer upon layer of color. I’m covered in mistakes that have since been painted over. Some of me is pretty easy to understand, but in a lot of ways, I’m still a work in progress. I guess that’s an appropriate metaphor. I’ve always had exacting standards, often unrealistic and burdensome. I make compromises for love. I find delight in the pursuit of adoration. But I’ve been truly humbled by my mistakes. I haven’t forgotten. I’m still deciding how much of a person in am going to be. I could so easily judge my situation and denounce myself. I’d implicate, accuse and bias my rendering on years of sadness, rejection and disdain. It’s a pattern, I’ve come to realize, with me. I’ve had to learn how to separate myself from my pain, and be able to abide suffering whilst embracing the self. The core of my being hasn’t done wrong, my patterns have been neglected for too long. Life has it’s many twists and turns. I’ve been doing an inconsistent job of staying afloat. But I’m trying really hard, and that’s always something I can be proud of. I have played a part in the many sad breakups I’ve been through, and I try to tell myself that things happen the way they do because no one controls anything. People generate unpredictable responses, which lead to new and varying outcomes. The danger with getting close to someone is that you invite the uncertainty of chance into your otherwise stable equation. I’ve shown that love absolutely ruins my judgement and resigns me to a set of unpopular fates. I’ve never had anyone who wanted to be my equal. Jennifer looked down on me. And Emelia and Jax were uninterested in that sort of advancement. I call them experiential people, for they derive meaning from the immediate and pay little mind to the long road. They make poor, life-changing decisions based on big heavy doses of emotion. This is why I get hurt so badly. This is why you can move on so quickly, while I deeply reconsider making another move at all. Margaret understood my feelings of having been replaced by my ex. In some perverted sense, she healed and moved on faster. I’m not sure of its a good thing though. I probably won’t get hurt if I don’t expose myself to danger, but you might. You decided to go play the love game again. I’m not going back in there for a while. You know? I’ve still got a lot to think about. I had plenty of opportunities. But never have I tried just doing life for myself. I’ve never earned my keep just for me. I’d really like to do that, if I could.

I get soggy at night like this. When the last moments of my day are gone and the great expanse stands before me. I’m prepared to face it, but a little butterfly feeling happens in me, like I’m a little scared still that I might not be able to do it. Sure I think about it. I’ve failed at jobs in the past, and repeatedly. I should have earned my caution badge by now. The real difference for me is quality. I intend to give a very raw and unadulterated variety of affection, but I know that it has to be earned with respect, not just handed over blindly. I’ve let love rule me, which it should never be allowed to do. Love is just like any other emotion; having a time, place, beginning and end. Do you let your anger take control of you? Does your anger make you throw things or break something? Why should love dominate you and control your actions? This is a symptom of experiential people, who let sensation rule the day. It may take a lot less to make them happy, but we two can’t be pleased by the same things anymore. We’ve grown apart, and I won’t be coming back, or stooping down to accommodate you. I’m quite finished with that same old song and dance.

I guess I’m feeling like nothing that happens with my exes has any bearing on my life right now. I feel hurt still, because all I ever really wanted was to be loved. I botched that initial offering up a fair bit. More than once. But don’t accuse me of not learning.

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