They will know us by our tears.
I can’t seem to go more than a few days without posting some drawn-out drivel about my life, the things that have happened, and the things that haven’t happened. That’s not to say I’m not happy. For the past few years, I’ve been increasingly aware of my blessings. Of the things I have now that I wouldn’t have if it weren’t for mean-hearted people, mistakes, and poor judgement. Because of X, I now have Y. For one thing, I wouldn’t be living in California if things had gone different in Oklahoma. As much as I hate being away from my family and friends, being here has changed me and made me into a person I can stand a little more, which I count as a good thing. Besides, all my friends are busy having lives: going to graduate school, raising children, having a career.
Every now and then, however, my brain stops and sticks on those things that I don’t have, and I’m left with a persistant sense of being left behind. Everyone else moves on while I stay here, being young and unattached, moving freely from one place to another without much of a care about what gets left in my wake. Moving to North Carolina, for example, hasn’t bothered me much. My attachments here are minimal. It will suck to leave my job because I love it and most of the people I work with. At the same time, I feel as though I have forged a bond with some of them that won’t dissolve with some miles in between us. In fact, it can prove to make friendships stronger, longer-lasting, and that’s what matters in the end.
It all boils down to some basic questions I can never find answers to. Where are my children? Where are my writing opportunities? Why do I feel permanently stuck in immaturity? And of course, the ultimate question: where is he already? I know where I want him to be. I know how I want him to look. On the way home this evening, I expressed my motives. Love (if one can call it that) is what I have for a certain person. And because of this love, I want this person to know that he is loved, immensely, without regard to his faults and imperfections. I want him to know that for the rest of his life, someone will be concerned for him, will fret over him, will worry that he’s eating right and doing his laundry in a timely manner. Above all else, I want him to know that all I want is his happiness, whether or not it includes me.
Perhaps that is the root of tonight’s rambling message. Perhaps I gave myself too much time to think about the reality of the situation as opposed to the fantasy. But in the end, I would rather spend the rest of my life living in the shadow of this feeling, in the shadow of these airy, silver-lined, heartbreakingly beautiful moments, than love someone else a little less.