• Nobody will read this pt. 2 ...




    The last several months, I’ve been obsessed with trying to grasp the reality of real love. Not the mediocre, postulate love that so many people are engaged in or think they’re working on – but real love. The kind of love that makes you sit up and realize that your heart is pounding. The kind of love that makes you sing and everything else around you as well for that matter.

    As time passes, I keep returning to the same thought ... that truly, it’s really all that matters. But if it does, then how can so many of us live without it so often, so long? How am I supposed to know what the norm really is, or what’s the proper end result? With? Or without?

    Is knowing the way certain things feel -- better for you or worse? Is being aware of the world around you something that’s supposed to make you feel utterly alone and disconnected from everyone you meet or know? Why aren’t there any guideposts or people to tell me these things along the way? I know the answers to some of this stuff only because it keeps pulling at me, but honestly, it’s not a lot nor enough.

    I’m in mid-life, but this is not a crisis. I know that the giant hole inside of me cannot be filled by material possessions, some random vice or even another person. I’m old enough to know what diversions are meaningless or make you feel worse and which ones heal wounds. I can’t say I can make a list because one doesn’t exist, because like all things the value of what we find in life changes from day to day. What’s true as you travel down one path could be absolutely false down another.

    No one ever asks me ‘how I am’, or ‘can they help me’, unless I’m at a store. The reality of someone reaching out to you, pulling you up from drowning, is close to non-existent. No one ever looks at me and ‘sees’ what I’m going through the same way I can see the pain on their faces and know deep down the problems and the trouble that person is mired in – and how close they truly are from giving up. I always make an effort to find out and see if there’s some subtle way to help. But throughout life, where are the people who have materialized from the ether for me? Am I a fool for even asking this? Why are these things obvious to me but completely abstruse to everyone else?

    The truth I keep coming to is the look on everyone’s face. Maybe that’s why I often look away. People just would rather not care, would rather not know. So many songs, works of literature and philosophies are based around ‘not being afraid’. What’s there to be afraid of? Pain and rejection, loneliness and isolation? All that’s inevitable, it’s coming if you hadn’t had it yet. It’s actually guaranteed. In truth, you’re probably not living if your heart hasn’t broken a few times. You cannot love someone fully until someone else leaves you in pain. You can’t be with someone fully until you’ve been left alone. And I’d bet, sadly, that you can’t know how it feels to be in love until someone tears down the curtains of your world and then says goodbye -- or nothing at all.

    There are a lot of people that suffer from what is known as fibromyalgia. They’ve seen doctors, have prescriptions and take meds every day. They report having bodily pains that have no known reason. A lot of medical personal dismiss these people outright, even though they send them away with pain meds. I know have something similar myself, but I know it’s not fibromyalgia, and I also know that there isn’t any drug I can take for it. I used to believe that there was, but I’ve learned my lesson on that problem years ago.

    My pain is physical and I feel it every night when I go to bed, when I lie down and when I get back up in the morning and all day long. All the pain emanates from my chest, and closer to my heart and radiates outward. It makes no medical sense, but if it suddenly went away, I would feel the lack of it in a moment. My heart sits inside my chest and feels like a stone or a brick and hurts more than it should. Or at least that’s my opinion, that’s what I would say if I was being examined.

    I know what it’s like to have a ‘heavy heart’ and what I used to think was just a flippant phrasing of speech is a reality. It makes it hard not to think of these things as causes and question why some people have compassion for others, while yet others have none. It makes it difficult not to obsess about relationships and the directions in life that I’m taking as I see these things as contributing factors. Is my empathy for others off the charts and effecting me negatively? Maybe. Anything I can do? Probably not. Isn’t that always the answer?

    Laws of attraction state that all of us are more attracted to smiling faces, happiness and warm, well-balanced faces. Some of us, like me, are relegated to the shadows of everyone else's lives and I’ve come to terms with that. I’m a passive observer taking notes it seems. That’s my purpose. I do the best I can to help other people but I need to stop thinking, even on a chemical level, that those that I love, are going to love me back and those that I care about will care about me. Being out at arm’s length is really no way to live, but that’s the path I’ve carved out for myself.

    I don’t recall the last time I had a real human relationship with someone that was fulfilling. I have no recollection of the last real friendship I shared either. I guess that’s the box that something like a marriage creates around a person. People feel like they’re walking through a dimly lit room full of glass shards on the floor, trying not to misstep and break anything.

    Whether it’s me or someone else, people have investments to maintain. I don’t begrudge anyone for that, but how do people professionally exist together in a meaningful way beyond small-minded, Oldowon era insecurities? It breaks my heart watching them fumbling with the basics in the toolkit, but it’s my own failings to control or direct.

    When surrounded by the intensely insecure, I can clearly grasp that my interactions and my connections with those people will be equally insecure and unfulfilling. The question begs though, that with life being long, how far down this road can one travel?

    Often times I overlook the obvious and earlier it occurred to me (because this sentence here is an edit to the body of this text, which was written earlier), that I’m supposed to be going through this, I’m supposed to be witnessing all of it. And being at arms length makes it easier for people to be themselves and for me to do my job. If people had a larger investment in me then they would probably take larger steps to appear and act differently, which would be meaningless and create more problems than it would solve.

    Beyond all that though, I’m just looking for what I set out to find amidst all the chess moves and insincerity, and that one thing … well we already know what that is. Don’t we?

    That’s where I’m at. I do this everyday and will get up and do the same thing tomorrow.


    "I put my faith into tomorrow ... but I'm still ... so afraid ..." -- David Bowie



    ...

    1 comments:

    1. Anonymous5:48 AM

      I read.

      I share some of these feelings.

      the road is often hard and lonely with sparkling moments of connection and joy.

      I plan to have one of those moments December 4th. Come for a moment and a hug? :)

      Gae

      ReplyDelete