So here I am, staring down the business end of a sparkling clean porcelain throne. Having eaten too much fast food while traveling in Maine, and my body just flat out rejecting the notion that anything I have consumed today is actually food. I’d like to think I held out on that diet of mine, but it needed some reworking. I gained more weight on the organic and mostly vegetarian diet than I did with eating non-nutritional non-healthy fast food crap. I’m in the hotel room after a long night of working and traveling and I’m listening to music that inspires memories within me. Memories that only come flooding in when this soundtrack happens to be on.
I’m banging on the door of my tiny room in my apartment on the seacoast. There are tears in my eyes and I’m thinking this is it. I’m thinking that I have lost everything I had tried to build for the last five years. I’m a broken man, with no sense of direction or purpose. I had lived with my girlfriend for years before that, and we were going to be together forever. Or at least, that is how I imagined it ending up at the time. I’m clutching the doorknob and sinking down to my knees. There is no sense of belonging anymore. I merely feel cast out. Replaced. Misunderstood. Abused, and completely out of my element and out of my mind. I play over in my head all the stupid things I did that drove her away. I replay all the things that brought me to this tiny room in a house on the other side of town where I spend my nights alone in a loft bed that I built to maximize the space.
::return from flashback::
I’m not that same person anymore. I can’t remember the last time I felt so helpless. I can’t remember the last time I stood there and took it. I can’t remember the last time when I felt as though I deserved such torture. No. Now I realize how unhappy I was. How much I was trying to push her away. How much her and I were incompatible for each other. And her lengths she would go to to impress me, without doing the one thing that would have really impressed me at the time. Go to School. Become a Veterinarian. Make some money for our future. Actually invest in herself, and in a future with me where I don’t have to pay for almost anything unless she makes some side money dancing 3 nights a month.
I shake my head in disgust in the world I was in during that time. It was mostly my own fault, but I wasn’t the only guilty party. I enabled her behavior, and even encouraged and facilitated it. All because I felt an increasing pressure that I wasn’t giving her the life she wanted. I couldn’t afford the life she wanted. I couldn’t afford much of anything back then. All of my money went to Credit Card bills, and paying off car, and student loans. All of my money was tied up, and so it felt hopeless, like I would never crawl out from my debts, and that we would continue living this detrimental lifestyle for both of our health and our sanity. I felt trapped, and miserable, and the only break I ever got from it was when she danced and made extra money on the side, so we could go do something, and I could give her the experiences I felt would make her happy. Knowing what I know now, I should have ended it, because I couldn’t give her what she wanted. Not at that time. Like I said, I was a different person back then.
Of course, now, I can’t give anyone what they want. I went from a man who fell in love, and believed in it so passionately to a man who has a hard time falling out of apathy and nihilism to make a real connection with another human being. I want to be that person who’s able to feel the magic of new love, and have that special feeling when I hold a hand, but that part of me is either dead or dying. Occasionally, I will meet a girl who I feel has the potential to invoke these kinds of feelings in me, but often I will find a way to talk myself out of trying to make that connection with her. I live my life so fearful of making a real connection with another human being and having that other human being rely on me. I feel vulnerable, and weak, when I portray the most strength and fearlessness.
And sure, I have my relations, and they are great people. I connect with them in a way that I am capable of doing at the current moment, but I can’t seem to make that leap, into the feelings, thoughts, and emotions of myself long before I became broken. So I wait, and I contemplate, and I stay busy, and I constantly learn about myself and about the world until someday I meet that person who will knock me off my feet. And although, I expect to never find her, I can’t help but dream. Dream that one day I will fix myself, and I will be able to move on, and that I will be able to forgive myself, and I will be able to forgive all those who have shaped me to this point to be this dysfunctional person incapable of getting close to other people in a real way without fearing their inevitable betrayal, or fearing my inevitable feelings of suffocation, and annoyance.
I will settle down someday. Maybe when I’m 80?