Thoughts on Paper

(as it were...)

What I'm listening to: Volbeat

I'm writing this to try and make sense of things. Lately my mind has been in utter turmoil, so much so to the point it is making me physically ill. That should not be possible as emotion only registers on an intangible level, but here we are. Incredibly scared, nauseous, angry and confused.

The intent in my writing this isn't to to be maudlin and self abasing, ultimately if other eyes find this I would wish for the content to be publishable. Though with what is considered content in this day and age I can only assume that I could write a string of abusive epithets aimed at those who I perceived as wrongful and I'd get a few thousand hits in the blogosphere.

No, the real intent here is for me to get my thoughts in order. Perhaps then I know where I can go to take action and make my goals attainable. This is an entirely selfish endeavor. Meant to shed light on some things on my mind and eventually remove those concerns I have regarding what is affecting me. Publishing it online may be an end goal because I can't see a resolution myself and new eyes are always helpful. Ultimately it speaks to the profound way in which I find I am affected by this lonely discourse. I believe so strongly that perhaps letting the world know how I feel may afford me a small release from my current predicament. Just letting off steam so to speak.

And so it begins...

Emotion as a whole is a terrible thing. I have spent a considerable amount of energy over the years trying to understand it's place in my life. To a large extent I have had an amount of control over the entire process. I am proud of my ability to rationalize those things that seem to cripple others who are less reserved. I have kept the animal chained, to use a metaphor. It honestly scares me to see the looks on others' faces who are succumbing to strong passions. Such is the case with someone close to me. Music is a strong catalyst for emotional reaction, but when you look like you're in the middle of an orgasm while someone is grinding on your backside a bit of the romance is lost.

That's not to say I don't feel emotion, I feel them very keenly. And I try to make my reactions coincide with the fact that I am not some pack animal succumbing to base instinct and writhing around without control. I feel therefore I am, to paraphrase DesCartes, and so I have a responsibility to act according to my station in nature.

More and more I realize that as a human being I am less a mistaken byproduct of nature. Mutation gave rise through a selective process. I believe people have a responsibility to comport themselves with intelligence and dignity. So when I'm at a concert and I see a group of people writhing and shoving, being violent as possible without giving rise to actual violence I get a little uncomfortable. It's not my scene. It doesn't even appear human. A group of people in the throws of ecstasy look disconcertingly similar to cattle in a pen. There is no leadership, just blind panic and instinct and the scent of fear.

Fear is my overriding reaction to this discomfort. Fear that this is really what life is all about. Walking around day to day making small talk and acting in accordance with social mores on the surface, when what we really yearn for is to be behind closed doors and let the animal out with. It terrifies me that our grip on reality is so tenuous. If things were to suddenly shift, and the balance of world power no longer mattered what would we become? The animal is so close to the surface, how long before it comes out?

This animal release is all fine and good for the bedroom. At least there is a mutual contract between individuals when intimacy is involved. Sex is an animal need. It's a time to let the trappings of society wait outside the door as two minds come to the same conclusion with mutual assurance that what is to come is to be received with enjoyment. I won't get into the arguments for drunken sex or fetish behavior. I'm simply mentioning those wonderful romantic moments between two consenting adults. Animalistic or otherwise.

It may sound hypocritical to make such a claim regarding romantic moments, but as I said, I feel emotion keenly. Sex and the resultant intimacy is important. I like to cuddle is what I should say. Really it's more gloat than anything. I like to think I do my job when it comes to bedroom activity. And if I don't I'm damn sure going to try harder next time, if there is one.

Back to the concern here. Fear of the “animal inside” is a shallow metaphor I use to encompass my discomfort with emotion. I have spent so much time on cultivating control I've forgotten how to let the beast out. Under every action I am always analyzing, adjusting. Stepping outside myself to encompass the entire exchange. Yes this includes the bedroom, it's part of why I enjoy that little activity. There is always something new to try, or some new angle to see things from which can lead to something very pleasurable. Returning to my earlier sense of fear, the girl at the concert. She is a friend. I love her, but that look she had startles and confuses me. How can one person, someone I respect and adore be cogent and conversational one minute, then completely irrational the next? Even at my most intoxicated I realize what I am doing and have a tiny portion of control over my actions. There is one instance of total loss, it has become a bit of a “thing” in my family and it won't be mentioned here.

Letting loose has never been my problem. I enjoy a good time as much as if not more so than the next person. Though it is always through the lens of a rational individual. My actions always have consequences. So I try to act in accordance with my own personal mantra which is: don't be a dick. More elaborately; don' t act in such a way as for people to think less of you in regard to your ability to control yourself in public situations. Don't be “that guy”.

I should mention while I'm on the subject of social interaction that I have become very adept at hiding. I don't like to stand out too much in uncomfortable situations. I also like to know where my exits are. And sit with my back to a wall. I am paranoid. I search the crowd for potential threats, I monitor activity of social groups and satellite groups within my sphere of influence. Not because I'm expecting something to happen. Though I always am, but because it's a smart thing to do. This gets more and more difficult in a bar scene as I become intoxicated, but the trade off is that I become more open emotionally as well. Not quick to anger, I went through that phase as a young adult, but always willing to laugh and very much interested in bending an ear to hear your story. Apathy is replaced by a casual optimism that things will turn out for the best, and I will be able to handle the consequences should they not.

Intoxication doesn't absolve me from my actions. If anything it makes everything more enjoyable because it does allow me to relax. This isn't a case for the use of alcohol as a social lubricant. It's not a crutch. As they say, drink responsibly. Something I have had to learn to do with age. Booze just happens to make me calm the hell down and not worry about everything as much.

Continuing with the “animal on a chain” metaphor, in these bar scene situations the “chain” is loosened from round the beasts throat and he is allowed to wag his tail affectionately at the surrounding human condition. A mix of control and affluence is allowed. I would be remiss if I only allowed such a thing to happen only in social occasions. I am able to empathize professionally when the need arises. Like-minded people seem to call to each other non-verbally. And when the connection is made they are more than ready to share their stories and openly display happiness. It's a very wonderful connection to have with someone socially. Though an empty connection.

Perhaps it was how I was raised, but I am very good in social situations. Tact is something I've always found to be natural. I enjoy an audience. I wonder how some people can be so removed from the unconscious social rules society imposes that they miss the subtle cues a situation merits for a concise and intelligent resolution. Rubbing elbows with people should never be a painful endeavor.

So I guess I've relayed that right now I am afraid. And we've established this fear is not from a social situation, it's very private. Fear is never easy to admit to. In this day and age it is considered a weakness. People who fear are thought to be unable to act. I try to overcome fear. Watching horror films, reading scary stories, envisioning scary scenarios (which is difficult to do when you have total control in your personal mental space). These are just examples, the fear I refer to is more keen than simple shock tactics. To go into detail regarding how to overcome fear is another work altogether. Preparedness is the key to success. I only wish I could relay this forward thinking to my work life. I am not very good at thinking too many steps ahead. It is something that I should try to remedy.

As it has been said, “you can't live in fear.” “Fear is the mind killer.” “You have the ability to overcome great fear.”¹ These are maxims I cling to. Yes they are pop culture references, but if you can't get good advice from heroic characters then you are left with very little to draw from. Plus it's easier to feel empowered from fictional characters because their flaws are obvious and in the next hour and change they are going to overcome them anyway. It's a message of hope to impressionable people, emulate this characters and you too can become a hero. A concise and beautiful message if ever there was one. In ages before you had to cultivate yourself through ethics or religion to come to this kind of epiphany. Now you can get life advice for $15 and the price of popcorn.

I like to think I have a handle on fear. Not much surprises me, and with the exception of a certain family of reptiles and their propensity for erupting from the darkness to bite your face off², I have almost nothing in the physical world to fear. That being admitted, the intangible and the potentially possible terrifies me.

And so we return to emotion. I said in the beginning I am nauseous with fear. This is fear of an individual and what she represents as much as it does the actual emotion. Uncertainty is paralyzing. If I can elaborate with my earlier example of that certain family of reptiles. I'm not afraid of crocodiles or alligators, I find them fascinating. That moment when the perceived calm of the dark, cool water gives way suddenly to a violently erupting beast from from the murky dark terrifies me. From serenity and calm to sudden aggression and violence. That split second when the world falls from beneath you and everything you thought you knew is now gone. It is a fear of possibility and of the unknown. It represents everything I am afraid of with this woman. Everything may look calm on the surface, but at any moment scaly death could rise from the mud and weeds and rend everything I am into nothing. The activity of caring for someone is a scary prospect that people seem to walk in and out of with an incredible ease and grace. They can let the the beast of the chain. As for me, analysis breeds even more paranoia and discomfort.

I can live a lifetime with someone in five minutes. I know I can't be the only one who thinks like this. Any feminine culture magazine will espouse a woman's ability to see a potential mate within minutes of meeting them. What they don't go on to speak on is the myriad other lives that can be lived out in the intervening minutes between a first date, a first kiss, a first sexual encounter... And so it goes. I do that one hundred times in fifteen minutes. In the dark of the night I can see a thousand encounters, some end favorably, most end in tragedy. I am a realist and a fatalist, and above all a cynic, so my conscious thoughts always seem to turn to the poorest of conclusions. Not through a self deprecating sense of pride. I wish I was the type who could always see himself as the hero, but the real world doesn't work that way.

I try to see things objectively. I try to prepare for the less than ideal conclusion. As I said, I am paranoid. I want to prepare for the worst so in the end it doesn't sting as badly. That way I can walk away from the event and say “well you expected this outcome, you shouldn't be surprised.” I have lived all those lives and seen all the endings, so here I sit at the end of it all and I am no better off, but the worst of it was already prepared for. I guess you could conclude that I am a fatalist in relationships as well. Always waiting for the end. Not a healthy way to partake in emotional interaction.

This leads to my current physical discomfort. I am so tied in knots internally that I can't even begin to differentiate the reality from the fantasy. My mind is continually whirring with the possibilities of what could happen. And always it ends badly, and this leads to more discomfort and sadness. People in the medical field are aware of the concept of pain wind-up. The impulses sent from pain receptors build and build like water behind a dam, until eventually (inevitably) the damn breaks. Avoiding this is of paramount importance, because in some cases this sudden sensation of acute and intense pain can lead to the death of the patient. I am not so self-effacing as to suggest that this discomfort I feel is going to kill me. It is however very prevalent unless I take real action to prevent it. I need distractions, I need to be able to drown out the psychic cacophony happening in my mind. This work is one of those distractions. People can say, when they are removed from the event itself, “just think of something else”. Acute or chronic emotional occurrences are very hard for someone to remove themselves from. And so we now come to the chained beast who is also lovesick.

I hate love. Romantic love I mean. I don't see the point in it, I have read any number of works where the chemistry of the brain is used to explain where love comes from. I enjoy watching documentaries that dissect it into it's initial chemical components and their originating locations in the brain. These works in effect are about killing love. Removing the magic and mystery that has sent bards and poets into a frenzy for years and reducing it down. Explaining it as it so concisely that it can be reduced to yet another pop culture reference, “the physical feeling of love is no different than the bodies response to eating large quantities of chocolate.”³

That's not to say I don't feel love. I feel love every day. I have three cats and a ball python. I love them unconditionally. Though sometimes to hear me talk about a certain gray tomcat in particular you'd think I was fattening him up for a new pair of gloves. To condense the role of love in this instance; I love them as a caregiver.

I love my family. Like most people I have parents. I was blessed with a sibling to share my youth with. He has given rise to a sister in law who I love because she is now sharing her life with someone I am as devoted to as only brothers can be. She shares my devotion to my family and so I extend my devotion to her family as well. Two initially disparate groups now bound by mutual respect and happiness. I love my family, new and old, out of devotion to their happiness.

I love my friends. Life has seen fit to grant me a group of people who I can depend on without fail. Men and women who I can say without self-aggrandizement or even a hint of glib pride I would take a bullet for. It is a profound wish of mine to someday win the lottery and buy a neighborhood where I can move everyone so we can be close. So I can watch their children grow and expand this new family. These are people who I see as family. Genetics gave me a mother, father and brother, as well as a wonderful extended group. Circumstance gave me individuals who I can say with an overwhelming sense of happiness that I love. I love them for making me who I am.

Those are the three main groups of people in my life that have lead to me becoming the person I am. A social network for experiences, a core group that instilled in me values, and responsibilities that keep me grounded and help me to consider my actions as not only affecting me.⁴

So now we come to love lost. My dating pool, while diverse, is not exactly deep. I don't like to form romantic bonds with people easily. Which I can guess is the real reason for so many failed relationships. Recently my longest dating spree was capped off at around the 6 month mark. Whereas asking around my age group and some people a few years younger than myself, they have relationships extending into years. That has always confounded me. What do these people do to keep a relationship alive for so long? I'm not espousing simply dropping the whole matter when the romance dies or when you become bored. I wish to know what switch in their heads flicks on and they find themselves a year, two, even ten down the road sharing time and affection?

I wish to a certain extent that our society hearkened back to a different time when “going steady” meant something. When people who were high school sweethearts were almost universally going to get married. I don't yearn for these things out of sympathy for a bygone age. I wish for them because they are simple. They signaled that these individuals were in it for the long haul. They were going to try not only for each others sakes, but because they recognized that the surrounding social networks understood and expected them to care for each other. That may be an oversimplification, but perception is in the mind of the beholder.

The slackening of sexual mores in my era has lead to a sexual freedom other eras only dreamt of behind closed doors and in dark corners. Our society now is almost exclusively sexually focused. This registers to me as a need for intimacy and the immediate need for euphoria, or simply; sexual orgasm. We want to feel good, and we want to feel it alot. We just want to feel it now. All of this is just fine. I have nothing invested in the actions of those who aren't close to me, so what they lose or gain from unfettered and unrestricted intimacy has nothing to do with me. Be with who you want, where this whole model falls apart in my estimation is my age groups inability to turn off this desire.

People can rationalize anything. A simple act done in the heat of passion can simply be sublimated as innocent social interaction. A guys night out where Mr. Boyfriend gyrates his penis on the thigh of a stranger and gets her number; he then goes home to Miss Girlfriend and they go to bed. This is seen as innocent. It's even justified, “I was just letting off some steam.”

Or perhaps the reverse is accorded consideration. Miss Girlfriend goes on a Ladies Night. On said night she dances with and then gets a drink with a handsome stranger. Drinks leads to laughs, laughs lead to touching and perhaps there is a kiss. “It's not like I'm married! And besides, it's my night out with the girls.”

Is young miss wrong? Is mister man innocent? These are the things I contemplate. Social situations and interactions that are perceived as inconsequential. Sitcoms and movies would have us believe that these things have explosive consequences, and as such should be shied away from. And then we are bombarded with more images of debauchery and humor in the coming minutes while conflicts reach resolution, and cars are sold to us, and underwear is used to peddle to internet domain name registration. I can see how the signals are mixed.

Back to love in my experience. As a rule it is reserved for the three aforementioned groups. I have taken great pains in my adulthood to restrict loves influence to very defined parameters. Once again, not only do I see this as a form of control over the intangible, but as a prudent action that allows me to account for variables in my personal condition.

I have felt love; true love,up until the writing of this a total of 4 times in my life. I'm not simply saying the love you see in movies and tv. This is not the love Ross felt for Rachel. Romeo and Juliet paled in comparison. The love I felt had the heat of a star, the gravity to pull in everyone around me and cause me to love them as freely as a black hole pulls in planets⁵. That being said, twice it went unsaid to the object of my affection. Once it was unrequited. And the final time, well that was the kicker.

I won't comment on the self-induced torture filled period between my infatuation and subsequent success at finding love. I will mention that it is the closest I've ever come to alcoholism. I learned fast that if I were drunk I wouldn't be so concerned with sharing my feelings. Not the best method with dealing with stress, especially as a college sophomore.

What I felt was the essence of love. The pure Platonic ideal. I gave that love to her, I said the words. I showed her this fragile, beautiful thing that I had agonized over for weeks and waited for her words in return. And she said them back! Is there anything better to hear from one person to another?! I think not. You instantly become a super hero. You are untouchable, unbreakable. This person who was more important to you than anyone else in the world has just affirmed that she reciprocates your feelings. You matter to someone! It's that simple. So often people seek validation. A sense of accomplishment accords a small victory in this area. Whether it's winning a game of beer pong, or creating a lasting scientific theorem that assures you will be immortalized by future generations. Hearing the one you love say it back to you, and mean it too!? This beats all other accomplishments and leaves them in the dust. It then runs back and spits on them for good measure.

My love extended to the whole damn world and everyone in the immediate vicinity. And I relished it. I breathed it in every morning. I thanked every godlike entity good or evil for it every night. My love was being felt on the cosmic scale. That right there should have been a warning flag that I was too far gone down the road to emotional expression, but I was young and in love. Anyone who's felt that way knows that rational thought is secondary to love strengthened impulse. Top o' the world ma!

Needless to say “we” became “me” soon after. I will spare you the details, suffice to say it was an inopportune time, and it left me devastated. To be on top of everything, smiling down with bliss and joy, and then be ripped from the heavens themselves, violently and suddenly I should add, broke me.

When I say broke me, I say so without pretense. I didn't believe I was the wronged party, and to this day I don't fault the one who hurt me. I never sought solace in friends or family. I simply shut down. I latched on to the most stable thing I could find. Something that could help me dull the pain. This thing would become my closest companion for years, always by my side. I found anger.

We're going to take a detour from love for a moment so I can expand on this period in my life. One that persists to this day. I have learned restraint, and age brings a considerable amount of wisdom. And the passage of time reduced the pain to a dull roar hidden behind background noise. Much like the sounds of blood in your ears, you only notice it when it's quiet.

I said that I am very much averse to feeling emotion too openly or too freely. Rage on the other hand, I can't get through a day without it. Anger is addicting, in my mind it is the truest of emotions. It is unrestricted, it can be wielded as a weapon and used as a shield, and I became very adept at its use very quickly. Anger drove my actions in almost every daily task. I reiterate, this was unfocused. Anger simply gave me impetus to go about my daily actions. I woke up to it, I ate with it, I fed it every dark thought and notion it wanted. In return it made me feel warm. It helped sharpen me, make me uncaring as to the consequences of my actions. It lead to empty relationships. Short, unconcerned, unfair things where I thought of people as simple tools. They were simply a convenience of circumstances I only entered into to feed base urges. I hurt people, unintentionally and unfairly. Most of all, undeservedly. I broke the cardinal rule of me, don't be that guy. I was “that guy”, and I loved it.

Rage and anger gave me the energy to go about my life selfishly. Where most people come to the realization relatively early in life that they deserve to be happy and need to seek out situations that make them happy in a healthy way, I came late to the party. And like the latecomer to this party I played catch-up most emphatically. I am not proud of some of the things I have done in the past. Friends I have to this day had every right to disavow me. Luckily for me they are still with me.

When anger feeds your actions you lose sight of others. It's works like blinders, you only go for what you want. You speak only hollow words and empty promises to get what you want, there is no real investment. Most of all there is no reason. Base instinct was my concern. I told you I am very adept at tact. I've absorbed enough information on social interaction that I can discern what I need to say to get the desired result. In most circumstances, I'm not infallible as you will soon see. I don' t state this about myself as a request for absolution, I am also not saying this out of a desire to show I'm a “tough guy”. This is simply a function of my mental process. Am I a bad person for taking advantage of information I have gleaned over years of study? Am I a monster for being able to understand situations and act accordingly without real concern? Better men than me can argue the merits or faults of my actions. I say this simply because I would be remiss if I weren't honest. It would be a disservice to this work not to bare this while I shared so much else.

To this day I am quick to anger. It has been said of me that I follow in my fathers footsteps. My father is a great man, but he did have a short fuse. In retrospect I view his fire as a tempering aspect of my youth, countered by my mothers' cool demeanor. The fires of youth need tempering. I weep for the youth of today⁶ that they lack parents who have the ability to so freely guide there children through to adulthood. Fear of reprisal for trying to teach your child a lesson in a loud voice should never be a part of raising a kid. There is also something to be said for corporal punishment as well.

Loving parents aside, this anger breathed life into a dark time. I didn't mope for love lost. I acted in accordance with desire. And benefiting from my study into philosophy I found kindred spirits from throughout the ages. If ancient individuals could also glean these insights into the human condition from introspection and thoughtful reflection then I must be justified! As John Stuart Mill said “follow the action that amounts to maximum happiness.” Granted that was meant in a political arena, it works just as well on a personal level. Epicurus sought to eliminate fear and pain through materialism (hedonism), so I consumed. I've never been good with money. So imagine a disillusioned youth out only for himself and his own happiness, he feels justified in his actions through intellectual pursuit, and he's got a moderate amount of what he considers disposable income. I had a lot of fun in college.

And so it went, for a very long time. As I said, the anger that I used as fuel has dulled over time. It still persists, ready at my beck and call come to the fore, but it is restricted. And so days went by. I found pleasure in intermittent company. I am not one for playing the field, but I actively chose to enter into hollow relationships for the express purpose of recalling some of that lost validation that I was important I felt when I was in love. I drank, I sang, I yelled⁷, I succumbed to my own demons. And so I started thinking...

I enjoy intellectual pursuit. I'm an avid comic book fan as well. Imagination coupled with a sense of reality can lead to a wonderful interaction with the physical world. Many times I'll read something in a “funny book” and seek out its analogue in real life. The fastest way for me to learn is to hide lessons in fantasy. I know I'm not the only one who thinks that way. It makes learning fun! Anyway... like the Grinch who stole Christmas I sat in my dark cave. Mostly drunk, and I planned and I schemed. I sought to find a way to never feel love for another person again. Romantic love would die by my hand. It took years of introspection and a certain level of adjustment of my mental processes, but I succeeded in blocking out what I considered the signs for love. I kept on as I had, but I had a new set of things to consider. I left my cave blessedly hollow, with no desire for fulfillment. I rationalized everything as transient and impermanent. So if everything eventually ends why should I care now? Why should I try? I became the fatalist that I am now.

I learned to keep people who sought intimacy at arms length, still remaining available, but aloof and unconcerned. I discovered apathy.

Never considering a future meant never having to care when anything would end, another would eventually come around. I instilled realism into my human condition.

That last statement may come across as arrogant, but in a world with 7 billion people, each one succumbing to hormones constantly, I'd say one could play the odds and come out ahead. I reveled in cynicism.

And so we come to the present. If you have stuck with my ramblings this long I thank you. If you've gone along with the slog to this point just so you could critique at the end with an informed opinion, good for you. That's an admirable quality, and it's rare nowadays. For those who see this as a high handed attempt at garnering sympathy, good for you too! It's admirable to see more self absorbed people quantify others' work in retrospect to their self importance. I call you brother and friend. If you can't rationalize the world in terms of your own experience then you are either a saint who puts others before themselves, or a sociopath who is just looking for a reason to punish others for being more pathetic than they have a right to be. I have thought all of these things about myself and others. We are not monsters for being selfish. We are allowed to let the dark thoughts slip into our brains, think of it as a way of ensuring sanity. If you hold all those things in; the desires, the needs, the cravings, you'll either end up medicated, or you'll end up a news story.

My desire thus far was to give you a look into being me. Unedited, unabashed. This is a work meant to help me sort through my own feelings. A very selfish act whose only purpose is to make myself feel better. I want to make sense of these feelings I have. And right now the number one thing I'm feeling right now is love. The thing most anathema to how I wish to comport myself in life⁸. And so we return to love.

I killed love. My ability for romantic love I should say. All other permutations factored into my life in the most minor of occasions. Like a special family event reserved for Christmas and birthdays. I said the word rarely. Never to someone I was involved with. I may hate love as a rule, but nobody deserves to go through what I felt and then have it be a lie. I may be a jerk, but I'm not a monster. So I glad handed for a bit, showed love around the town in it's lesser form of infatuation, and then kicked it and put it back in its box. Locked the box, chained it, threw it in a dark closet away from the light and then set the place on fire just to watch it burn while I smiled.

“I am better off alone.” I have always thought, “Anything else would be ultimately disappointing and not worthwhile.”

Since love first entered into my life and left just as abruptly I have not exactly been invested in the women in my life. Through no small part of my own I admit, they were never given a fair chance. If you need to get burned more than once to learn a lesson you are a fool. And when you're mad at everything and waiting for the floor to fall from beneath your feet your patience becomes taxed. Little things are expanded on, you list those things you aren't happy with to use as a defense for the end and you file it away. Everything is cataloged and recorded for later use. Every innocent quirk or change in demeanor is twisted and warped by anger and doubt. And as predicted the relationship ends. And I was alone again. For a long time. I was a passing shadow in the lives of several people who deserved better. Or at the very least something from me.

Time passed. Years actually, and a strange thing started to happen, I got curious. Had my victory been so complete? Had I removed romantic attachment so completely from my life I couldn't feel it anymore? Success at last! Though as anyone acquainted with even the most rudimentary of scientific theory can affirm, you have to test the hypothesis. So I found someone who was willing to take in a person like me. She was pretty, and smart and very patient.

A love based in the bubble of college and then pushed into the real world is doomed to fail. That is a universal truth. I know this now. Two disparate experiences cannot create a cohesive bond between people. At least one that will last for very long anyway. Ultimately this circumstance is what drove me from my beloved and down this path. So this new woman was a very different sample set.

Adult relationships are both easy and complicated. And this was my first foray into the realm. On one hand you have the regularity of a working environment to occupy the majority of your time. Once you punch the clock and head home though, you have more responsibilities. You have to cultivate affection, you have to reciprocate and set aside time to share. You have to actively care. So I started to learn new lessons on how to be an adult and have adult things in my life. Lessons were pouring in faster and faster. I thought I knew how to navigate these waters, but the river started to take odd new bends and the water got rougher. Things went along day to day on the surface as calm, but inside my head, I was losing control of the boat and my bearings were harder to keep.

I am sorry that things ended. I cannot say enough good things about her. She is beautiful inside and out. Things didn't end badly, but they didn't offer the closure that she deserved or that I needed. She had to move away, and my life was not in that direction just yet. I wanted to say things to her to make sense of us. Only I still viewed myself through the same selfish prism, I stubbornly held on to what I believed constituted a relationship in light of a shriveled husk of love. What I came to realize was that I had started caring. At some point “me” became “us”. What I wanted to do became what I wanted us to do together. I wanted to start sharing my life little by little. It was subtle, I only started to notice in retrospect, but by that time it was over. Somewhere in the midst of my confusion and her justifiable exasperation I started to grow the hell up.

Adulthood is a gradual process for many people. Most of the world is forced, sometimes violently, to come to the conclusions that we in first world countries take decades and even lifetimes to bring into stark relief. At some point you just need to grow up. After it ended with us I started to realize that my stubborn clinging to my hatred of love was the petulance of a spurned child. A child unable to cope with the reality that life is not always going to be easy or pleasant. It doesn't end like a sitcom, there are casualties. This is not a world shaking realization, everyone knows these things. I had just never really thought of these as universal truths, and I was considering these facts now. I thank this woman very much for caring about an angry boy, and I remember her fondly for helping me realize what it takes to be a contributing member in a relationship. I am sorry I couldn't be more for her. She deserves the best.

So in secret I doused the fire set by a simple child, loosened the chains and opened the box I had condemned love to all those years ago. And like Pandora I peeked into the box. I saw love there, quivering in the light it was so unaccustomed to, and like a man purchasing a good horse I carefully considered it.

“I still hate you!” I said in the darkness of my own mind, and for good measure I mentally poked it with a stick to let it know I was still boss. Then locked the box and chained it back up. Only apparently not as tightly as I thought I had.

Emotions are dangerous. Anyone who reads the paper can attest to that fact. Stabbings, robberies, suicides and murders. All of these things stem from emotion. People say “faith” is the opiate of the masses. Faith stems from belief, and belief requires conviction. Conviction requires emotional investment. You have to FEEL that something is right and good and just. Atheists and non-religious people like to say that more people have been killed in the name of religion than in the last few actual political military incursions. This is true, it's actually a fact. You can blame religion on the surface, but lurking insidiously under the surface is emotion. Charismatic people find followers through sharing the same belief. They insight emotional responses to bring more into the fray. Passion feeds on passion and more and more are pulled in. All this because someone harnessed emotion. We are to blame for our own abominable behavior, not some unseen cosmic force.

I'm not speaking of others, that was simply a moment of introspection. And I'm not hear to harp on the atrocities of the human race and what it is capable of. You all went to school, you know the score. So I went on doing what I did every day since I came to my conclusions on love. Only now there were suddenly provisions to my former stance. I was more forgiving. It started with strangers. I was allowing for more lapses in intelligence, I was letting things slide that months before would have had me seething on the inside. My anger was less conspicuous, I was calmer for a time. Old habits are hard to break though, and eventually I was back in prime form. Then I met someone.

This whole thing is supposed to be about what I feel right now. In these moments, but you can't reach conclusions without research. So I've written all of this down. Unintentionally I have let more of my past slip onto the page than was intended, but this is supposed to be therapeutic. To get to the heart of this matter I need to rewind the clock roughly 9 months. I guess that is the time when this was incepted.

I could be described as having a cavalier attitude at times. It comes out from time to time when I'm in a good mood. The subject of this current conundrum has been a colleague for few years now. It should be mentioned that I compartmentalize my life. Work is work and outside off the clock is me time. Never the twain shall meet. And I have held to that successfully for a long time. Until now.

It was a coworker and good friends' wedding we were attending. I would be lying if I said I hadn't found this particular woman attractive previously⁹. The need wasn't there though. No compulsion whatsoever. I was simply living life as I saw fit. Feeling in a good mood I started to joke with this young lady¹⁰. When you are happy you start to show a little bravado, and as I said, cavalier attitude. I made the assertion that before this evening was over, she and I would be drunkenly making out in my car. And I said this loudly, within earshot of coworkers and I think my boss' wife. So we went to the reception, we danced, it may have caused a bit of a fuss,we drank and when the time came to leave I drove. Guess what? I WAS RIGHT! Called it, booya!

Right here I get to toot my own horn. I was right! I said that I was very good at reading social situations and people. Yes this was largely a subliminal assertion helped out largely by booze, but godammit I was right! And it was amazing.¹¹

As these things go I gloated a bit, but largely it went by the wayside. Work and life, never the twain shall meet. Only I started to pay more attention to her. She started dating someone, not a problem, she was a colleague. Work and life. Fast forward to about a month ago, I start noticing her interests coinciding with my own.

“Very cool!” I said to no one in particular. Work and life.

We start talking more. She's funny sometimes, her jokes need work but she thinks I'm entertaining. I started to enjoy our conversations more and more. No harm here. Work and life.

We start talking about attending a regular event to play games and enjoy the company of others.

“Very cool!” I reiterate. I enjoy her company so much more than before because we are very similar. The kiss in the car from months ago is still lingering in the back of my mind. That was innocent play, no other party was involved. The very definition of sloppy tongue based chastity. Work and life. Suddenly...

BAM! Back seat of my car after driving her home! Hot and heavy, loving every minute. Passion! Fire! Intensity! It was like every romance novel sex scene rolled into one. We wanted each other, we said as much. I've never done anything in the backseat of a car before. I was very much on board with this plan.

This is where things got complicated. I have never been the type to condone cheating. There is nothing worse you can do to someone than betray that implicit trust that comes with entering into a relationship. At my worst I may have never had the actual capacity to care, but I never considered the possibility of cheating. Maybe it's a moral code, maybe it's my own way to ensure some sense of moral superiority should things fall apart. Then I'm not the bad guy. I just don't do it, and I won't be party to it. Only this time I really considered it.¹²

When you spend as much time as I have on selfishness and pursuing your own goals you start to justify things differently. I like to think I am a good person. I don't willingly hurt others, I may wish great pain on them to myself, but largely I'm untroubled by others and perceived sleights. I follow the rule of me. I also am a bit competitive. Childish and competitive, but when you feel strongly as I do for this person you can sympathize. I don't like to come in second place. If I am to be intimate with someone I want two minds present. Two bodies becoming one, the whole shebang. I don't want the extra phantom of a displaced significant other involved. It's not fair, and it's not right. This means that I turned down something beautiful, something I really wanted, and she wanted, and WE wanted. If that's not the definition of self restraint then you show me a dictionary and I'll beat the crap out of you with it.

Don't get me wrong, I realize that I'm not the good guy here. I know what we did I shouldn't have allowed. And I don't regret a second of it!

Passion! That was the feeling. Passion I haven't felt in years! A bright warm fire right in the center of my body that made everything spectacular. The next day I walked in to work with her. We shared a wonderful kiss on the pavement. The smell of spring trees in bloom, the sun illuminating the area except for the shade of the house we stood in front of. Our own cool little paradise. If every day at work started that way I'd have five jobs and be the manager within the month at 2 of them. Work meet life, I'll just set you two here in the corner and you can become acquainted. Alarm bells were going off in my head. And to my credit I have kept it together professionally. And every night since I've talked to her.

Infatuation is a strange beast to work with. I have kept my mind clear, I am proud of that. It's just that it starts to assert itself a little more easily than I am comfortable with. Text messages that were infrequent now have paramount importance. I fly to my phone when I hear the alert. If the number of letters in the name don't match hers at quick glance I become instantly uninterested. I find myself talking to her more and more. And so more and more comes to light that we have in common. What started as innocent prompts that we should start dating are now more insistent. Glances at work hold eye contact a bit longer. There is meaning brewing between passing ships passing in the night. They seem to be passing with more frequency.

Now we come to the nearest of present timelines. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with this, so I won't go into details. Suffice to say that things came to a head. A crazy, beautiful, passionate head. I still maintained my belief of it being all or nothing. Only I suddenly lost control of my ability to rationalize. All of those attributes I was espousing earlier went out the window. Futures I was considering, possible outcomes I had created, everything just disappeared. I knew this feeling. It did not bode well for my future.

As clear as day and hitting me with the wrath of a chained and beaten animal held at bay for years love reared back and let loose! I literally had a vision of the flood gates crashing down flash before my eyes! Suddenly all that fatalism and cynicism gave way to the bright and optimistic view of the future. I didn't see those multitudes of bad outcomes anymore, I saw one vision, and it was her.

Don't get the wrong impression of me. I stifled that very quickly and regained some senses, but she dominated my vision. I didn't see a long term future. I didn't jump to silly conclusions about where this would lead. I didn't see kids and a house with a picket fence and a dog. That's never been my goal. What I did see was me, with her. And not just so we could be intimate, I saw a good future. One where we shared a kiss in the morning as we woke up. I saw us curled on the sofa watching a movie, playing with our respective cats. I saw joy and infatuation resulting in time spent together. I saw us meeting after a long day to hold each other and talk. I saw romance. Ego disappeared, I wasn't in this just for me. I was in this 100% for her! This was now about an “us”. I want a future with this woman, I haven't felt like that in ages. Love clawed its way back into my life violently and suddenly.

I haven't said it to her. Those words I so desperately want to say but am so vehemently clawing to hold back. I don't know if I will honestly. It scares me. I only realized it just after the fact. When I kissed her goodnight and she drove home. I stood at the foot of the stairs smiling and it just popped out.

“I love that girl.”

My cats stared at me, I stared at them. My ball python stared at me because she doesn't have eyelids, or even the slightest interest in how I feel. I said it again.

“I love that girl.” I repeated it a total of three times before I had to stop. Each time it gained momentum, it came out faster. Sentence clipped sentence until in my mind it was a whirl of one thought running back and forth.

“I love that girl.” A simple slip of the tongue trying to find words for the moment and here I sit. Battling an old enemy; and all the other emotions I've kept in check for years are tagging in for a turn at the champ.

Cut to the present as of hours ago. I saw that animal look in her eyes in a sea of people, and I was scared. I fought through a tide of bodies violently treading on each other to reach her several times just to be close. Each time I was given a moments consideration and then she was off among the throng. I found her twice being danced on by two other men. Seemingly unconcerned that they weren't me. As I tried to insinuate myself into the fray they pushed me away. The whole time I'm battling a man and the press of a crowd. I got close and then she would resist my advances and push me away. I threatened violence to both men. I have never raised my fist in aggression to another person outside of a fight ring or in defense. Luckily my hand was never forced, and they backed away. I saw her run to her ex-boyfriend and they yelled ecstatically and danced. I watched as she was lifted by him to be carried away into the crowd and I gave chase only to lose her again. I would be lying if I didn't say I was frantic by the end of the show, and stone sober. Imagine, me sober as the day is long panicking in a crowd whose sole purpose at the moment is to push and shove and mill about violently. Instinct took over, fear locked my insides up and I lost coherent thought.

Something felt very wrong, I needed assurance, I needed to see her okay. And I needed to be reassured. Like a scared child I needed her to validate my feelings. Fear gripped me. And that voice that had guided my decisions for so long was now very tiny, and even though I heard it, I offered rational thoughts no purchase. I was a horse in a thunder storm. I didn't know what was coming, but it was coming for me fast and it wasn't good.

After the show I met her last boyfriend and I felt fear that I would be forgotten. Suddenly all the happiness I had was being replaced by fear and dread. For some reason I no longer seemed to matter to her! And I hadn't told her that she was the world to me! A few minutes later we went to a bar, I wasn't allowed in due to my disheveled appearance. A side effect of fighting through the mob and being drenched. I watched her eyes as she assured me of a short visit and walked away to leave me alone outside.

“Why don't I matter now? Why am I suddenly no longer important?!”, I screamed these things impotently inside my head to the ringing of my own ears! I sat in the cold, as I was soaked with water and sweat and waited. Every alarm in my head going off that something is wrong. I'm panicking, but still I'm waiting.

“What is going on! Fight! Cry, rage do something you fool! You know what this means, you know that look! You have to prevent this! There must be something, anything you can do!”, the impotent thoughts of a condemned man standing at the gallows.

It was a relatively short wait. Perhaps fifteen minutes total. In that time she and her friends had exited the bar, she called me half a street away wondering where I was, and I caught up. This is where I start to unravel. This is where questions start to arise and fears build up and I find my self paralyzed and unable to accurately assess the situation.

I ask myself now why everything I went through in a moment of insecurity should have mattered to her. This was not a date. We are not “together”. This was us as whatever we are enjoying a show together. She just was able to enjoy it more than I was. She doesn't keep the animal chained as fiercely and I do. She can release it more readily, and it will come trotting back. She has control, she knows where to draw the lines. Whereas I couldn't let mine go.

I told her about the crowd, I showcased my bruises. I spoke of my virility in threatening those two men in an impotent attempt at showing her I was strong. She simply shrugged me off. I reduced myself to the level of a neanderthal. All that pride I had, all the things I said earlier about being afforded some level of dignity as a higher functioning being was gone! I was reduced to a base creature showcasing his accomplishments and strutting around trying to regain attention. And after the drive home as I kissed her, desperately running things to say through my head and coming up with nothing she closed the door and went inside.

Love was making me a fool! It took everything I strove for, every thing I fought for, for YEARS, and in the span of an evening it tore those things away! Rage replaced fear! “Why am I like this? Why can't I be rational for a moment and calm down!” And then the fear that love would soon be lost took hold and bore me down to dark depths where the monsters of my own making waited to greet me.

We've had several conversations about how we want to be together. This was not a sudden occurrence. After our night where my epiphany came to the fore she said she knew what she wanted. I assumed it was the same as me. That she wanted a future for us. Together. And as we lay there together after affirming our mutual happiness in that one moment it was the happiest I've been in years¹³.

The night when I told her my wish to be with her I did something stupid, in my own head I had already predicted how this would end. I was happy and cocky, and much like the making out in my car after the wedding all those months ago I predicted a favorable outcome. It hasn't come to fruition. I'm starting to lost objectivity. I can feel the fear and insistence in my messages to her. They are coming off as more desperate, more invasive. I'm trying desperately to make my future come true and at the same time my mind works in overdrive to create scenarios that show the contrary. The old ways of fatalism and cynicism control the reins and I can't sleep for hours at night because my mind bombards me with futures that don't involve an “us”. I haven't really eaten in about 48 hours. Too nauseous. Sleep is fitful and cruel. At the risk of sounding melodramatic I awake and for a brief instant I am fine. Then I think of her.

It is a blessing and a curse. I hate myself for being in love again. I hate that she can't simply make the choice between me and her boyfriend. The whole time thankful for the small kindness that she hasn't at least made the contrary choice. My own version of purgatory.

At the same time I cherish her. I think of only her before bed and at rise. Yet the fear paralyzes me. If I share how I feel I am exposed on a level I have fought against for years. If she's chooses me and reciprocates my feelings, what then!? All I'm greeted with is more fear! What if it ends? When will it end? Should I fight for it? You can't simply make someone love you, if they no longer feel love then that love is dead! What then? All of these long years of control and rage, all my self taught lessons and hard won victories over my intangible emotions will have been for nothing. Those of you in love can attest to what I am thinking. If I give in, if I waiver in my devotion to myself and say “I love you” to this woman I am destroying myself. I swore once, years ago in a moment of clarity that should the stars align and I am faced with this abomination called love once more I will only say it only once. That assertion in itself is terrifying. I am condemning myself to a dark place. It's a very large gamble and the reward is not guaranteed.

The more realistic of you will say that in the course of a lifetime the likelihood of someone falling into and out of love several times is almost a guarantee. And you are right in the most general of scenarios. I however seem to take love more seriously than I should. I realize that my ideas on love and devotion are extremely archaic. This whole time you have read my ramblings and heard that I detest romantic love. While that is true, I also believe in it. I recognize its power and I know how strong it is. You can fight it and you can wrestle it. You can shut it away and become something horrible in the process, but it is always lurking there. If emotions are the beast on the chain then love is the most wicked of its weapons. It can reduce a man to ash or it can stir a cause to victory.

I told her that I am 100% sure I want her in my life. That is the truth and I have told her so to her face. I need her in my life, that's to be sure. This insistence is keenly felt. I want to share a future. I want to walk the path together for as long as I am able and she is willing. This is not an assertion of a long term future, but it is a statement for complicity. I want to stand by her side as long as she wants me. I want to earn her trust and respect. I want to show her I can become someone better, just for her. Will I tell her I love her? I don't know.

100% is totality. Exaggerating and making it a higher number just serves to illustrate the same point. Think on how many times you've been 100% percent certain in anything in life. That is the assertion I'm trying to make. With all of this rambling, this speculation and bitching I can say this. In spite of the fear, the doubt, the worry and pain that I feel at this moment I can still state with ironclad willpower that I want 100% to be in this with her.

I have come to realize with the lessons I have so recently been given that I don't want a child's love either. I don't want to feel love for someone as a counterpart. Strength is a key component to all relationships. It is something I value and try to possess. Strength of character, strength of will and of mind. I don't want to watch over her as a shepherd. I want a partner. I recognize my role in a relationship has certain tasks that need doing. I need to open stubborn jars, I need to tell her it's alright when something is bothering her. I have to hold her hand and comfort her when she feels fed up. I want those things fervently! I also want those things done for me. I need to be able to trust. I need to know that my fears, however childish or fanciful can be put to rest as she smiles at me and tells me it's alright. Is that too much to ask for from a loved one? Perhaps. For this one though, I'm willing to work as hard as needed to be worthy. She would be giving up a considerable amount to be with me. I recognize that, and I am sad for forcing her to choose. In return I vow to become EVERYTHING she needs me to be as penance and as a sign of my devotion for even the slightest of hurts I may cause her.

That being said the realist begins to rear his head. What if this falls apart? All this talk of favorable outcomes and hopes and wishes and I still don't have an answer from her after weeks of waiting. Just the same argument that she needs time to think. I have kept my peace and I can have a small measure of satisfaction in that. I haven't said the words to her. They are a dark spell whose result is beyond control, and they are more than capable of turning on me like a wild beast and rending me into nothing.

How will this affect everything else? Should the worst happen and I can't tell her can I hold my tongue while a beast rages in my mind, tormenting me with visions of what could have been? Can I regain control again? I don't know how this will end. I'm terrified it won't end favorably. I am trying to bolster my resolve, the world will not end. The future is an uncertain thing. All I have right now are fears in the dark.

1Ghost Rider, Dune, and Green Lantern.

2A re-occurring dream.

3The Devil's Advocate I think.

4Someone has to feed the cats. You can't go gallavanting all over town all weekend!

5Without the unpleasant death by spaghettification.

6To be melodramatic...

7Alot

8For those of you who think my writing pretentious. You'd be right to assume I am. This is how I hear myself with my inner monologue. I'm really quite affable in person. Kant was a dry read in college, but I heard he was actually quite fun at social gatherings. I like to think I'm like that, only not published. Or read. But just as boring.

9Not the bride! I know what you're thinking it was not the bride! She's a very good friend of mine and so is her husband!

10She's legal! Don't be gross!

11That's a declarative statement. Not an exclamation. Meaning that is factually what it was. Top 5 best kisses ever. Ranks about a 2, cuz I haven't made out with Demi Moore yet.

12I didn't do anything. Stop judging me.

13No. We didn't. I still maintain some pride.