|Letter to an old friend:
||[Jan. 4th, 2012|07:26 pm]
Permanently Under Construction
This is a letter I've been meaning to write to myself, to Luissanna, to the baby... I feel as if it's necessary to send this message, and I think it's only fitting that you are its recipient:
I would first like to start off by apologizing. I am deeply sorry for all of those very high expectations that crushed your fragile heart.
And I am truly sorry for being so lost for so very, very long. And when I gave away your trust I did so haphazardly, without any criteria or discernment. I didn’t know that it was a gift to be treasured…that was a mistake, and you deserved so much more.
And I am so, so sorry for Rebecca, Iraq, what you did to her, and what she did to you. It was a horrible mistake, all of it, and she scarred you so deep that you lost your heart. And without your heart, what were you?
You confused selfishness for emotion, and emotion for selfishness. You lost so much, so fast, and when you came closest to having everything you dreamed of...you didn’t know what to do, and you just let Gabriel #2 walk away from you.
Without a heart you didn't know how to trust anyone...so you made some very poor decisions, decisions that led you to make some of the most naive mistakes of your life. Those mistakes—that defining stupidity that reminds you, “You should have always been smarter.”
You were never 'that' stupid. And in your hubris you convinced yourself it was the best possible choice, but you were wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong...
…Your history…a humbling reminder of your tragic pride and ignorance. Idiocy so profound it should be criminal. Never forget. Never ever forgive yourself.
And you are smarter now, but…
You never had to take so much to be happy—never had to lose so much to be wise. But you are very. Wise. Now. Aren't you?
You had a plan that began over eight years ago—to help others. That if you had more than you needed, you would give it away. You tried and failed along the way, giving it to the unworthy. It started in the army. You knew you could lead others, but you chose to be led…even in love. But this paved the foundation, and you are not here by accident. No. It is no mistake that you have the means and the talent to draw in others and provide for them. Now, you are surrounded by friends—family. And look at what have you created?
What have you become?
I know you wished for better. I know you wished for a "happy ending." I know you wanted to love, and a daughter. I know you wanted your soulmate more than anything, but I'm sorry Gabriel...so sorry.
I’m sorry, but that's no longer what's most important.
A friend of mine was asked: "What do you want in life?"
He responded with, "To be happy."
I thought about my answer, and I know enough to be certain that the best and most difficult choices in life won't always work out in my favor. And the meaning I find, or the things that I value won't always coincide with what makes me happiest, and that's why my answer will always be—for myself, for everyone in my life—"To do the right thing."
So, who are you now?
I will tell you who I am.
In effort to improve myself I studied, I trained, I struggled to embody excellence in every capacity—this was my direction, but I did not understand that to even take on this task would mean that I already had to posses a certain quality of excellence.
She said you’d be great, didn’t she? She said, “One day…” and you never understood. You never understood, until now…
It is impossible to describe myself without referencing the people in my life and the greatness they possess, and it takes someone truly amazing to bring all of this together…
I see this, now.
I have a history of surrounding myself with modern princes and princesses. One day, it will be their turn. One day, they will lead, and I see greatness in them. The same greatness I know I possess. I see…I am unparalleled in talent and intellect, but it’s not because of the knowledge I possess, but because of my constant efforts to be better for everyone that comes into my life, an honest, genuine effort to be more understanding and less judgmental.
And I struggled. And I fail again and again. I fail so much, but I keep trying…keep aspiring for greatness, and that makes me great.
The struggle that defines me makes me soar.
And I lost so much…but it was exactly the right amount. I had to lose so much to know—to be who I am. To understand the depths of pain that burden others, and in order to help carry it.
I used to think about the man that I would have been had I never lost that child. I would have known what it meant to love and to ‘need’ without the pain, without knowing this piece of Hell inside of me. “What a magnificent man,” I fantasized. What a beautiful person…a beautiful father. Gabriel was my child’s name. I guess that makes him Gabriel #3. I think it would have been a boy, that's what Luissanna kept saying.
I think about that beautiful, perfect life, but it’s only perfect because it was with her. There are few people that 'it' would work with, but it worked…'because' it was her. And I struggled so long, I hurt so long because I didn’t want to believe that the ‘right’ thing to do was to hold on to something, to love something with all of myself that I could never possess, that would never bring me happiness—but to give myself over to this never-ending pain, and to love and remember it every second of every day with all of myself.
That’s when I changed, my dear…that’s when I understood that God was an analogy of this frightening, killing love, and I could believe in something that I could never touch, or feel, or hold on to…I could love it, and hold on...forever.
I think about the other Gabriel, the Gabriel that had the baby, that loved the baby, that thanked God for that baby…I will never get to be him, and I don’t want to.
I am this Gabriel. There is Hell inside of me, but that is what makes me great.
I can still be that perfect person. No. I can be better. I know the price of selfishness, and ignorance, and arrogance and it compels me to strive for better…to keep moving in this direction
In this direction I am…
I am a leader.
I am a father.
I am a King.
|School of Fine Arts
||[Nov. 16th, 2011|03:48 pm]
Permanently Under Construction
“I was dreaming of you,” she’s a little breathless as she speaks—he’s a little breathless as he listens.|
The notion of flight causes his sleeping body to spasm. He needs to escape.
“I know,” his arms press her bare chest to his, “I was there.”
Another terrible dream. He wakes up confused as to whether his mind is sober, hungover, or still slightly intoxicated. The words “You are a part of some thing BIGGER” scrawled in acrylic on the wall, above his head, with a bold arrow bearing down on him, a remnant from the night before. He stops trying to figure out what state his mind is in, it hardly matters because of how frequently he finds himself under the influence.
“This is our insomnia,” he thinks to himself, half-expecting that somewhere she’s receiving the message.
Roommates and friends; partially clothed bodies surrounded by half-empty bottles of beer and scattered art supplies. Scanning the rubble of brushes and canvas, he sees the photograph, her smile, her hair exactly the same. It must have been the last thing he looked at. He touches his chest where she had laid, as if this ritual could animate the memory.
“Just know that when I close my eyes at night it’s you I’ll be thinking of,” was the last thing she had said to him, and he hadn’t been able to discern whether those words were intended to reassure or to crush him. Throwing off the covers, he retrieves a pen from the nightstand, tears himself a sheet of paper, and enters the hallway. The illumination was poor in these pre-dawn hours.
The drinking, the sex, it was his Novocaine—all he could do to not remember, to not dream, to not have to wake to this never-ending sadness. Every second, every painful breath a reminder of the life he had to endure with what he lost. His professor had told him, “If you take your life, I swear I’ll go to Heaven and appeal to God just to have you come back. You are too great an artist to finish so early. This is the time! You must use this in your art. Produce! Produce, and you will soar.”
A sad smile crossed his lips as the Professor’s final words echoed through his mind. He slowly jots down three words, and then closes the paper in his fist, “I hope you choke on your optimism.”
He tugs at the railing, fighting exhaustion. It would be the last time he’d have to make this journey, the last time he’d wait, the last time he’d transpose the image of her face on to a stranger, and, for a second, be hopeful.
Every hour of every day, for the past week, he had panicked visions of this moment and how it would feel. The picture of the balcony was vivid in his mind; the glistening, tiled floors, the platform didn’t have barriers, a ledge anyone could just walk off of. He was surprised no one had thought of it before. The pain would be shorter than a second, followed by darkness, is what he reasoned.
At first, it was just another one of his morbid fantasies, like when he’d imagined the interpretive dance troupe being crushed under the weight of the elevated, mobile abstract sculpture that orbited the theater. Giant cubes crushing, and steel spires impaling the students as they struggled to move against those ridiculous costumes. But this current delusion was very different. The images raced through his mind with a feverish intensity, and he experienced momentary pangs as if he was starving for it all to end. The thought of a single night’s rest comforted him, “and that’s what it would be like, a long, dreamless sleep.”
Finally, he was at the top. Down that narrow corridor, framed in moonlight, was the doorway, open. Inviting. He inhaled as he stepped onto the landing, thinking “my last breaths—interrupted.”
A stranger. Her back was facing him. Dark hair billowing furiously, caught in the strong winds. He could see the side of her face; silver tears running down her cheeks, and yet she was completely expressionless. Empty. Hopeless. Her Bare feet curling over the edge. His stomach tightened. She leaned forward. Without hesitation he lunged toward her, letting the pen hit the ground and releasing his small note. The words, “I Will Soar,” blew away, rising briefly and then spiraling downwards, making tiny circles before getting lost in the shadows below.
||[Nov. 2nd, 2011|09:43 am]
Permanently Under Construction
To be a great man is not
to fight against the condition of one's spirit—not to fight against the
rage or apathy—, but to never have to. I am a great man because of all
those "I will never’s" that I could never fathom, because they were
never a part of my soul.
I remember the wires
my father used as whips, and the scars that ran so deep...but I could never
get angry. I remember the sounds of mortars that shook the Earth, a
tragedy accompanied by one of the greatest loves of my existence and how
she tortured me, but I blamed myself. I blamed myself because all I
could see was her pain.
Who we are is defined by
when we're at our worst. At my worst, I am so much greater...and I will
be better, because this isn’t over. And I’m not boasting, because all of
my triumphs are personal and marked by terrible loss. There is sadness
and shame within me, but it does not consume me. It defines me. I am One
with this hell. And I pray that I live long enough to resolve the mistakes I
have made that are so monumental as to be worthy of my life’s end.
have turned the shallowness of my youth into a weapon of kindness and
sincerity. I have great regrets; my pride and my stubbornness… now I
have something so much greater…faith. I’ve seen it so many times,
how others use meaning or belief to enhance the value of their lives,
they find comfort in anecdotal stories and analogizing their lives with
fiction, pretending to be so right about things they can never prove...to be happy.
But we can never prove love, can we? And so I embrace this ritualized
insanity, because I have seen God in a love so great that it kills.
I have so much faith, because we live, we believe, we make love real.
I won’t forget this time that we make the impossible possible every
time we say those three words, “I love you.” And I will never forgive
myself for the mistakes that never should have been. I’ll take no liberties
in the narrative of my life in hopes of finding salvation or the absence
of remorse. No. No one should ever forgive themselves. And that’s what
makes me strong—I will carry this pain, and I will never forget a single
second. This is my price. This is my life. This is my hell. This is my
God. This is my love, and I will rise higher.
|I had a rival, I beat my rival
||[Apr. 6th, 2010|06:20 pm]
Permanently Under Construction
That's not entirely accurate; I demolished my rival. I shoved and pushed and criticized all the philosophically slated preferences geared towards expressions of selfishness that outlined their perceptions.|
...Not that it matters.
|Waste of a night...
||[Apr. 6th, 2010|05:16 pm]
Permanently Under Construction
I had an erotic dream about the husband and not the wife.|
Not that I'm particular, but it wasn't even really good.
|biting finger-nails (if you don't like psychotic this letter isn't for you)
||[Jan. 22nd, 2006|02:08 am]
Permanently Under Construction
|||||My Chemical Romance-Helena||]|
It's takes alot of bravery for me to write in this...I told my sister when she first started this journal that I didn't think I could commit, I knew that the very people I didn't want to see this would read it. I didn't like to talk back then, I'd rather not speak then say what I thought. But alots changed...
I'm on IM with my niece as I type this, preaching about maturing into a kid again, telling her she's to mature.
Let's start, I'll try real hard not to quote songs.
I remember a long time ago praying for a second chance, and now things things came round in circles, I think about how many times I tried to give up. [You asked for this second chance and you can't help but regret. If there was a reason you survived when others didn't, if there was a place or a person you needed to be, now that you're mature enough to handle the consequences you sit there and let yourself be hurt by it. You asked for this...and even though you haven't walked away you're still acting like everything you know doesn't change you at all (first rephrased song lyric). I'm tired of you being this way, weakness for the ones you love is important, yes but where do you draw the line? I'm tired of you claiming weakness.]
(Alright you wanna play the song lyric-sentnce game? One talks now)
You want an answer it's time to redefine a couple of things. Give up, don't let go? Name one thing that's really changed you in a negative way? You're not like other people...not giving up has never killed you. And you don't live with pain, who's died? Did everyone take a plane somewhere that got struck by lightning? There are far more miracles to be grateful for in this life then waking up every morning and being alive. If you really loved these people...and if they loved you, if they still want you there it's still a miracle. Every chance you're alive is a second chance so hold on, as long as it takes.
Remember what fate said...
He's right...I never gave up on a dream, I lost alot of battles on my way, but the people I love know the war is over when I no longer have them in my life. I used to wish that if it would make things easier on the ones I love, maybe I should die, I even hoped that they might die. A good friend told me "what good would that do? you'll just see us again in the next life". If I don't make things right this time...then I'll have to wait for my next chance. The best thing I've ever done this time around is not walked away, no matter how hard it's been. It's time to get things right my.
When I was 15-18 I never loved anything...caring is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. There's a new circle to look forward to now the one that I built with my pride and my heart, so I lost alot. But I got what I wanted, I have my family, I lost so many dreams but I have new ones, better ones.
Drowing...is dying without a sound. There are stories like you're life, bad things happen to good people that have never been written. Gabriel is a hard name to live up to, I won't watch anymore. And they won't let you go unnoticed. You really wanted to be seen, now they'll remember you forever. When you do completely selfless things and give all you have to another's life...that's why you're different. You don't just sit and watch yourself lose someone you love. So accept what gifts you've been given...you're all alive, and whoever goes away, whatever happiness they find you'll always know you were important.
Now here's where I get poetic, even an impermanent place in the history of someone you loved...if you really loved them, then appreciate it. Remember the smiles, keep the pictures, and love every moment, because you really matter, and their heart aches when yours does, live like you give a fuck. That's probably the most meaningful thing out of this rant, pardon my explitives.
Sorry just going through a transition, needed to get it out, from now on, things won't be different, because it's harder that way, and I like it. Just needed the thumbs up from One. He doesn't normally curse, I do believe this is his first time.
|This post will last me for awhile...
||[Aug. 14th, 2005|08:52 pm]
Permanently Under Construction
This is a letter for all the runaways, drifters, orphans, the poets, the lyricists. We are the people who lost our homes before we ever got started, and have ever since been searching for a feeling we never knew. There were some bad times, times I felt I was just "existing", moving and breathing without life. Bad times I thought would never end, but part of me dreamed of a place somewhere out there, maybe a person, some kind of family, people that cared, people that dreamed of someone like me.|
"I remember all these feelings and the day they stopped"
The Answer is in people like us, if we could ever give up on all these feelings of hurt, and our quick fixes like running away. We could be happy, we could be dependable. As endless as those feelings can be, the same is the power we have to care for someone.
Happiness is what we've been searching for, and when we find it, it echoes through into everything we do, everything we see.
"We were meant to live for so much more"
We create worlds in our minds, hopes, and stories of something better, an emotion we can't describe. But we search and live for it, because it has and always will be worth fighting for.
If you think the answer can be found in just one person, you're wrong. Happiness and love are the same, but it's knowing you can trust just a "friend" so completely you give yourself over to them.
"I found a reason for me, to change who I used to be, a reason to start over new..."
Yeah these are sappy songs, but they're written by people who've found happiness. There are happy people in this world, people satisfied with being by your side, these are the people worth fighting for. A person happy for themselves needs nothing, but that they chose to be by your side is what matters.
If the person you love makes you unhappy then it isn't true love...So give up on what makes you so unhappy and live for yourself, and the people that see you will want you in their lives, and they already know how to appreciate your friendship. Happiness is the most irresistible thing in the world, and when you see it, you don't see the person, you see how they make you feel, and you realize there's nothing you've ever wanted more.
So that's what I've been trying to say for some time, but had no words. I feel like such a preacher, but it's worth living for, and I'm right. You know it! My sis likes to think that I have strong family values, and I do, but I don't. She's always been worth fighting for, but there are others that don't know how to be happy for themselves, or how much to give. In every way she knows I've always given my heart to her, she just doesn't accept that she's one of the few people that the thought of has always brought me happiness...even when I couldn't be happy for myself.
Now I know something I'll never forget, even if she can't tell me or anyone else, I am the best person I've ever been, for myself, but because of those I love. And I hope these words prove that.
|All these songs are love songs
||[Jun. 17th, 2005|09:54 am]
Permanently Under Construction
|||||Happy for the rest of my life||]|
|||||Hoobastank "The Reason"||]|
My friend walks into a bar, and starts speaking to one of the girls that work there, she's my close friend. And after a brief conversation, she asks him to look into her eyes and tell her what he sees. He tells her: "You want to be strong for the people you love, but you find yourself always getting hurt."
She started to cry, he tells me about this conversation, and I know with people like her you can't just say their weaknesses like that. But for days I can't get it out of my head. So much has changed in my life, and my friend (Rodney) starts seeing what I see, and starts going kind of crazy. It's like he doesn't know what he's looking at. When he sees me with my friends at this bar, what he sees is indescribable. I've had some experience, and relive the past months of my life guiding him through the sickness that has afflicted me.
Now to the point of the letter.
There's a feeling in the world that no one can describe. Maybe it's a person, or a place, it's the reason why some of us were always to good for suicide. We live for it, but don't know why. We search our lives and don't know what we're looking for. And when we're in love we come so close, but don't understand what it is, and we love over and over again. We think it's a person, but it's the feeling that drives us, that keeps us alive when we're dead and walking.
It's not good enough to be content, that just means you aren't happy. And when you're a runaway, an orphan, a drifter, you don't realize it, but you spend your life fighting happiness. I sppent my life not letting people in, not getting close, still abused in the heart, and still a runaway. So you say "I love you", but it's not enough, because in you're heart your not happy, and you still don't trust.
(Pause to light my cigarette)
All your life you've been running away from happiness at every turn, the closer you came, the less you understood. The feeling, is the reason why, it's purpose, and it's the only thing worth fighting for. So you find people, and you don't know you're still hurt inside, and you play games at love with people that care. You hide, they chase, but no one ever gives themselves over completely. The world is afflicted with a blindness to caring. No one let's anyone get in without a fight.
Back to Rodney. I realize what it id he saw in her eyes, it wasn't her, it ws the weakness in himself. People like us are afraid to give themselves over comepletly for "just a friend". You think it won't mean enough. You hold on to the ones not worth fighting for, thinking one day they'll make you happy, when there are happy people loving you always, always proving themselves by standing by your side. And what he saw in her eyes was the only way to live, to give yourself over completely, to care, to be happy completely loving in everything you do.. True love is trusting someone to hurt you, knowing they never will.
And true happiness is giving up all those feelings of hurt that keep you away, and giving up on the things that make you unhappy for the rest of your life. It's the happy people that are worth fighting for, because if you can be happy for yourself, then love is easy, and fighting for their love comes naturally...And you will be happy for the rest of your life...
The feeling is happiness, it's in everything you've ever searched for, it's a picture you looked at a million times and never understood. And when you find it, you see it in everything. And you realize that all these songs are love songs. It's what you want, what you've always wanted. Someone to give as much as you've always wanted to give...
After you give up on all those other things, you soon realize that you won't lose your chance at true happiness. I am the change I want to see in the world, I've found what I've been looking for, and you know these words are right. Angels exist, and perfect is a happy person that sees the 'you' you really are.
There's a religion in the world of people that have faith but don't know why, heroes without benefit.
I hope this makes sense...
|Some kind of art...
||[May. 15th, 2005|08:51 pm]
Permanently Under Construction
|||||every breath is heart break||]|
I wrote this letter today under the strict orders that my friends not open and read the letter till 5:30 P.M.
Continues the emotional roller coaster:
Recently I've been having these terrible and beautiful dreams. Dreams that hurt as deeply as they make me feel happy. All my life I spent losing loved ones, losing homes. Sometimes I was so far away from everyone, so alone, the only comfort I had was knowing that there was someone out there that loved me.
Somewhere along the way finding a place called home became the only thing that mattered to this runaway. But I know home isn't a place, it's a desperate feeling and when you're alone you feel this crazy sense of emptiness, because you are loved and that feeling you carry with you everywhere, that feeling is home.
People have dreams, thing they want in life... the only thing I ever wanted was a place where all the loved ones I've lost could find me, and all the love ones I have arent very far away, where they could all be found. A place of so much love you could pour your heart out to a room full of people and never worry about saying something you dont want someone to hear, because in this place every soul is devoted to your happiness.
...And if I died this place is the only heaven I'd want t0 see.
That's why the dreams hurt so much because every night I have everything I ever wanted, my heaven, and have it taken away when I open my eyes, But I found a way to bring you with me, and that's what this letter is about. At this moment around the world people, angels that I love are reading this letter. And if you can't give 20 minutes then just remember that at this time everyday I make a prayer to see your faces...
And when I close my eyes you're here with me, soul mates are easy to find when you can trust someone with every part of your heart and know they give you just as much. In this place, this moment lasts forever in the paradise we create and I ask God that I never wake up, because he's given me more than I deserve...everything I ever wanted.
To the friends I've lost-
Cyn and Will- The best parts of my soul I lost.
Elly Sonya- A bestfriend I should've spent more time telling how much she meant to me.
Sam- I told you I'd never forget you.
And others whose names I've forgotten with age...
To the friends in my life right now
Luis- So be just as strong as you are for the people you love, trust yourself to be weak when you need to be around the people you love, and always be selfish...there's nothing you need to change and eveyrone that loves you sees that, and they just want you to be happy.
Glen- Thank you for showing me the person I needed to be, for reminding me that I'm to good to be treated like a piece of shit, and for also making me strong enough to do what I need to do Monday, March 16 2005
Blake- My little brother, because you can't chose your family I brought you here so you can feel what you need to feel the love of a brother and a home you will never forget, and something every runaway should have packed, know wherever you go that you are loved.
Will- Because it's not you that you see in me, it's the idea of honor that few have, the faith in yourself that no matter how unfullfilling, how unrewarding you will always be the best man for those you love. And when you do...then you'll be the angel I know you are...
Andrew, Val, and Rachel- The people I chose to be in my life when god made me. My blood relatives, and I couldn't be luckier.
Brian and Trish(mom and dad)- At first I thought jealousy of what you had is why I fell in love, but I was wrong. When I first saw you two dancing on the couch I knew it was true love, And I couldn't have chosen two people that deserve it more. You are both the same and I love you just as much...my parents.
Rev- Unlucky enough to be exactly like me, the angel of New York. You are alone for now but you will find this, no you already have in me, and trust yourself to love and be hurt over and over again, it's worth it...
Emma- My smaller sister, you are an angel and dont settle for someone that doesn't treat you like the most precious thing in the world. And when you find it, don't stop till you've done everything in the world to keep that special thing in your life.
(England) Rachel- Because I wont stop till you're in my life again, my friend, the first beautiful thing in my life.
Edz- The closest I ever let people get...I gave you a large part of my soul, and I trust you to always be the angel that I need in my life. You saved me, gave me something worth fighting for, and reminded me...of the person I was. And you made me the person I am now by loving me, You freed me and any of the people that knew me before can tell you exactly how much I've changed.
Claude- Because I can't stop being in love with you. And I wont let you go...The angel that is everything that I ever wanted. Nothing you don't already know. It's your turn to be free. And tell your mother, your family I see them everyday in this place, in prayers, in dreams.
And when I close my eyes this is the place I go to and I pray to God I never wake up...
This part wasn't in the original but to my cousin Rachel, there is still so much more to say...and hopefully I have enough courage to tell you soon.
|Something about angels and elves mumble mumble....
||[May. 15th, 2005|08:44 pm]
Permanently Under Construction
This'll probably be my least eloquent letter I've ever written because of how much meaning it contains. Just a warning that if I trip over myself while writing it, no one takes offense.
I grew up a weird awful conflicted child, mentally, physically, sexually, like most people, and unlike most people. But this letter isn't about my past it's about our future, mine and for those I care for, because if this letter means anything... it's honesty that everyone could benefit from.
I'm crazy in love with someone, some people, some place, it's the closest I've ever let anyone under my skin. I've never been in love like this. Or at least never allowed myself to be. And I hate myself for being this out of control, for being weak, for feeling this way, and for letting my life go this long without allowing myself to feel. Falling in love has made me realize just how much I have never LIVED before this. I went through life with a terminal case of a "bubble syndrome", existing, without feeling. I thought it was ok to keep eve my closest friends at a distance. I was raised HURT and never realized my entire life that I'd still been defending myself till now.
And this is the point of my letter: Something happened and I've been cured (important word reference #157). And left an emotional wreckage, like a car crash without victims if Jesus were an E.M.T.. Life and every breath is so hard now, it hurts with the emotions I've been fighting for so long... but some part of me has never been happier. And I now know exactly how insanely similar my sister and I both are. Feeling this way has made me realize why I've never found this before now, because I have been in love. But when you live life the way we do, love is just a time-share, when you're not ready to tell the truth, to trust so completely, to trust yourself to fall, and believe in another person so much that they can do no wrong, even when they are... (confusing oxymoron) I trusted someone recently, more than I ever have before, thinking that this was just a new way to keep people at arms length and it might be healthier. Stupid me, I fell in love.
I remembered what it was to feel this way, this confusion. Being in Love is anything but physical, it's when you look at a person and see only how they make you feel, how they 'define' you, and how their life brings you some kind of Purpose (these are key words kids so pay attention).
I became aware of feelings I'd forgotten, things I tried not to remember... The first person I ever fell in love with was my mother. It was after the armageddon that was my childhood, I was 13, and it was me and her on our own. I was too mature for my age, and I valued her treating me as something beautiful much more than most children. I was so close to being cured... but then she stopped being in my life (a mystery I'll never know), and looked at me one day and told me "one day you'll leave me too". She did it more than once, and after-wards all she had to do was give me a glance to break me, and recreate those feelings of insecurity. So I left... because I couldn't live life with a broken heart knowing that the first person I chose to give my heart too couldn't trust me the way I needed her too. So at the age of 14 I had an overnight bag packed in the back of my closet, and when she gave me those 'glances' I gave her one of my own (that was the beginning of the person I have been up till now). The look meant "You will 'only' get this close".
I left at 15.
I met someone I dreamed of everyday of my life since the first time we met, until the last and equally memorable moments, my sister. But being 15, a mess of an individual, and completely incapable of vocalizing the simplest emotions. It was that she treated me only her younger 'brother' that hurt so much. I was in love with her and was frightened by the fact that I felt anything at all for another human being, much more my sister. I remembered nights where she'd read books to me and caress my ear till I fell asleep in her lap, and days when she ruthlessly steal me away and pry me screaming away from my bubble, I felt less sick then (I was always sick back then). And I looked at this weathered image of my dreams and only found even more confusion. You see... she'd grown up just as jaded, and the more I wanted her in my life, the more it hurt when she would unconsciously push me away. And say little things that hurt so much, simple references about 'people', or the way 'men' act and how I was growing up. I was hurt more then she could ever know, because I was neither of these, I was her brother.
And so that's what this letter is for. I'm sorry I let you go so long without knowing, but I couldn't stand speaking but not telling, being with you and being so separate. Past, present, and future we are broken the same. And I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough to tell you this before now, but if nothing was meant to be than everything has meaning, and there's a reason why it took me so long to be strong for you.
P.S. For those of you who think I have an unhealthy fixation with my sister, you are correct, but let's not take it out of context. Thank you for the book, it meant exactly everything we never say to each other, and inspired me to pull my heart out to find the words. I love you always...
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