I am so sick of looking to tomorrow… so sick of looking at yesterday.  There was a long time when “today” was the worst time of my life and looking back and forward was all I had.  Really, I miss the days when I could look into a woman’s eyes and forget yesterday and tomorrow.  I miss those moments when it’s just me and her and whatever that magical thing is when it is just me and her in eternity and it doesn’t matter if time has stopped or is moving forward at a million miles an hour.  It has been too long.  “Now” is a wonderful thing that I have only recently remembered how to enjoy.  Now, I am looking to enjoy that timeless eternity.  Some days it is still hard to make myself stop and appreciate what is right in front of me when I spent so long shutting my eyes to where I had ended up.

So… I am sorry for the ridiculous conversation of last night.

This is why I write.  This is why I don’t talk to people.  This is why I’m single.  This is why I take ADHD medication for social reasons.
This is why I’m careful of who I talk to late at night.

But if late at night is the only time we can talk…  If I have to wake up early, so that I can’t take my medication and get back a little bit of my filter… If that is just how things are going to be… You should know that I am usually sorry for how I say things… and I have no control… That is the scary thing about me…

If I can slow myself down and read things twice before hitting send, I actually sound pretty intelligent and things seem to make more sense to myself and everyone else.

Please believe that I am sorry if it sounded like I was looking for more than a moment.  I am only looking for a moment.

I also really know how amazing it is when the moment is now and forever.


God has many hands

I haven’t really blogged in a while. There are some good reasons, but so many excuses. Rather than talk about that, I want to talk to you about what I want to talk about.

Shane Koyczan is a God among men. It has been ages since I’ve questioned my view of Atlas, yet like lightning, Shane has struck and changed my deepest set foundation. It comes so easy to me to say that the most influential words of my life had been written years before I was born, and certainly, it could be true. Yet, I forget that I am writing the words that influence me now. I have become the author of my own philosophy, the editor of my own life. In high school I became so angry because an editor had “accidentally” omitted a word in a short story I wrote. She omitted the pain. And as beautifully poetic as it sounds, it was in the confession of a confused boy who had killed a girl because “could bear her [pain] no longer.”

Oh the prophecies our lives reveal when we reflect… I have killed no one. Not literally, and I suppose he hadn’t either… But I digress.

When I was young, I too was a lover of mythology. I remember that as a young boy, my mom had so much faith in God(s?) and hope in the world. She taught me about God in the story of The Fox and the Crane, The Lion and the Mouse, and The Judgement of Solomon. Sure, we went to Hindu temples and I soon learned that my mother was taught by nuns. Yet, she bows her head to Buddha and respects the pope. My mother was the first and still is the greatest truly spiritual person I have ever known. She is an angel. It is no surprise that I fell into all the mythologies of the world. The most important belief she passed on to me was that literary truth is more important than literal truth.

The second most important was that your truth doesn’t have to be anyone else’s truth, but you should let others’ truths help shape yours. Hitler’s truths shape my truths as do the Dalai Lama’s. Plants turn manure and sunshine into flowers. My mother taught me that.

Ayn Rand tells the story of Atlas and literally asks, “If you saw Atlas, the giant who holds the world on his shoulders, if you saw that he stood, blood running down his chest, his knees buckling, his arms trembling but still trying to hold the world aloft with the last of his strength, and the greater his effort the heavier the world bore down upon his shoulders – What would you tell him?”

I will not use this space to define or defend Rand’s philosophies, but instead to tell you why I love her characters. I love Frisco because he says that he would ask Atlas to shrug. This is not an easy thing for him to say. This is a man who was born a millionaire and who doubled his inherited fortune and then abandoned it. As a true romantic who does not believe in divorce, filing for divorce was not cheap. I will forever question if shrugging was the right move. Was it the last of my strength? Was it weakness? The answer, every time so far, has been yes, it was certainly the right move.   I won’t lie and say I’m done thinking about it and questioning it. I won’t lie and say I regret it. It was hard. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

But Shane reminds me of the other side of Atlas. Although I’ve never heard the stories where Atlas was not being punished, he reminds me that the Titans were all punished appropriately. Atlas holds the earth without letting it crash. He doesn’t shrug. Shane brings it back to me that I am Atlas. Rand makes me know why I want to be Atlas, but Shane’s poetry reminds me how simple it is to be Atlas. All you need is the NEED to hold the earth on your shoulders. Atlas’s greatest strength is that he cannot shrug. It is also his greatest weakness. It is the chain that holds him in bondage. It is the chain that holds me in bondage. It is why I look around my house and feel like I sit in the ruins of the Earth. My life is easy to walk away from. I miss holding the stars in the sky for someone else. My home, my life was cleaner and much more beautiful.

So now, I look for another Atlas. I look for a woman who needs to hold the stars in the sky for me. Her head in the clouds, stars in her eyes and her feet firmly planted in the ground. I want a woman who will put up with my weakness and recognize my strength. I want a woman who will hold my share of the earth when I cannot and will be the reason that I cannot let it crash down around me. I will hold the earth for you. Forever. Blood running down my chest, knees buckling, with the last of my strength. I will do this because it is all I know. It is my weakness and my greatest strength. It is me.

I have shrugged. I have walked away. I am putting it all back together. I have friends who I love and for whom I will do just about anything. I want a partner because then I know I can never give up on me. I don’t need someone to live for. I need someone to live with. To share each day and a million thoughts and a few quiet looks. To share a couch and a blanket and conversation. To share a sly smile and thinly veiled adult humor around children.   Sure, this is not what his poem was about and his message is great, but I needed a reminder of my Achilles heel.

So today, I have the answer. If I saw Atlas, I would say, “Here let me help. My mother always taught me that many hands make light work.”

That is his message, by the way.

PTSD Prayer

I am a veteran.

I read articles on a weekly basis that address the PTSD and difficulties that thousands of veterans face every day and I understand and sympathize.

I raised my right hand twice and have taken the same oaths that these men have taken in public.  I know that they have many more oaths that they have sworn in private with the men who stood at their side.  I know what it is to look at someone you have spent perhaps 100 hours with and swear an unfaltering blood oath to them without saying a word to them.  I know what it is to carry an oath that the subject of the oath is unaware of:

“You are an ass-hat, but you will not be left behind.  If you are left behind, you will not be left alone, because we will all be ‘left’ with you.” Continue reading

Dearest Star…

,ɿɒƚƧ ƚƨɘɿɒɘᗡ

It has been almost fifteen years since my eyes last rested upon your face. I have no right to demand anything of you, even that you read this letter. I am entitled to no response or notice if you do read this letter. I demand nothing of you, however I do hope for a response.

I am not seeking to rekindle any old flame. I am not even asking to rekindle an old friendship.

I am stating, for all the world to know, that fifteen years ago, I knew a great soul. You were and I am sure, still are, far from perfect, so do not take it as flattery. But, you had a fire in your soul that I’ve rarely seen matched, no matter what the rest of you did to tame and shade it. I am simply saying how it is.

I am always hoping to meet that flame, whether in you or others. Whether as in friendship or simply watching a beautiful girl dance on stage playing the violin like she’s a fluttering moth lost in her own music.

In these hopes, I offer the most sincere of apologies. I’ve offered my words to the winds several times in hopes of absolution. I have found peace with my mistakes. I offer my apologies to you, in hopes that if I left any scars on your heart, I can help them fade. I hope this offer does not tear any old wounds or cause any new ones. Even as I write this, I am scared to send it to you for fear of that. Fifteen years is a long time, but I know that some loves, especially first loves, can stay with you. Perhaps it was easier for you to let go. Perhaps I am not the first love in the pages of your memories.

I am sorry for letting my weakness pull me away from you. It was my mistake. I offer this apology without the search for forgiveness.

,ƨyɒwlɒ ɘvo⅃

Love Means…

If there’s one sentence I’ve attempted to integrate into my life since a very young age, it is a sentence my mom has thrown at me and handed me and left at the dining table quite a few times.  Although I’ve kicked around the sentence for a couple of decades before tonight’s collection of targeted rational thoughts, and I certainly do not want you to do the same, I would very much like for you to read the sentence and pause to think about it before reading my thoughts on it.

Love means never having to say you’re sorry. Continue reading