reflection of my last relationship

When was it that I became blinded to the cause of my own demise? There never seemed to be a lack of things to blame; and of course, that's because the root cause is always the most trivial, building onto its own frame, lego by lego, until it became the pyramid holding up my ego. Unable to climb down its steep sides, i stayed there and watched, from the best view, the top of my pyramid, my high horse, so to speak, as everything crumbled around me, not having the support the materials of my pyramid could otherwise have offered, if only I could let go of this fucking pyramid; but I treasured it too much. How utterly foolish of me.

Could it be that had I had the foresight and wisdom to see, really see, that I would have led myself down a different path? A path where I did not grow weary of the one thing truly worth fighting for? Or rather, that my weariness would not give way to weakness to cause me to throw away the one thing I at one time told myself was everything? (Was it everything?) It's come to a point where I feel I must question everything; and why not? Surely, I can't be the only one to blame; and yet again, I am the loser. I've lost the girl, I've lost the partner, and I am the one alone while she has moved on, happy hopefully... So maybe it is everything. Sure, I'm not particularly miserable but to say I'm happy where I am would be a complete and utter lie... And so, where should I start? I'm quick to put the blame on myself, on how I could have done it differently, on how I could have made it better, but I can't be the only one to blame. So in the interest of fairness, let's start there. What were the three things she did wrong?

i) She was overly emotional and sensitive, with hardly any regard as to how that affected me, how it was consuming me and my energy and my time.
(But which girl isn't? To say that you lost hours, come on, buddy, you knew that was coming and you gladly gave it away at first when it was exciting and fun. So, why not at the end? What exactly did you grow tired of? Was it the fact that you felt it was uncalled for, that it was boring you, that it was stupid? She surely didn't think that. She was in fucking pain and all you can do is complain, saying that she doesn't want to get better, that she didn't want solace, that all she wanted to do is fucking complain and complain and be a pain in the ass, while all that time you were sat there like an idiot and trying to pretend it matters but you never truly understood it. So why didn't you say something? Why didn't you treat her with a little bit of respect and dignity and showed her that it mattered?
Because it didn't.
But didn't it?
Did it?
Didn't it?
It does. She was suffering. That had to mean something.
If you don't understand it, say so. Be honest with her and yourself. Be able to say that you want to understand what she's feeling and then really try to understand her feelings, try to understand what the point of this is, try to understand what she wants and needs of you, and try, for fucks sake try, to be human for her. If you care, tell her that you care, if you want to understand, tell her you want to understand, don't just sit there and listen and say nothing because that's what tells her you don't give a flying shit about anybody but yourself. Show her something. Because there really has to be something in there. Don't be afraid to sound stupid. You're not expected to have all the answers. You're just expected to care. You're not expected to fix it. You are just. expected. to care. If you don't know what is expected of you, just ask. "Do you expect me to comfort you? Do you expect me to advise you? Or do you want me to just listen?" You're not going to offend anybody by being stupid. Maybe youself. But you are going to by staying stupid. Because if you don't get the point, then we're all fucking idiots in this game of life because none the fuck of us are going to get what we want. And at least one of us should get that little. Because it's not a lot, you fucker. It's not a lot. All that each of us want is to be whole. To do a little good. To have someone who cares. Really cares. So we need you to do this. This is your first mistake and you better not fucking repeat this one because it's a stupid collosal mistake, trust me on that. It's a truly gargantuan mistake you should not bring with you into the next relationship.)

ii) She would get so jealous, never forgiving me for even the smallest mistake, she would always be armed with it, holding it against me, and she would never let it go. When we fought, she would always bring it up, and that created a rift between us, and it destroyed us. She always had a finger pointed at the mistakes I made.
(This one is on her. But it's also on you. Did you ever tell her how much it fucked you up? You did, didn't you? You told her every day that you've made a mistake, and you did, but she might have been spending the rest of her life with you. Couldn't she see that mistakes were coming? Couldn't she see that you're not perfect though you tried really hard to be for her?
I guess I didn't try that hard to be perfect for her. But I did try. I'm not trying to justify it. It's true, I did try.
Then you just need to sit her down and say this. "I'm not a perfect person. I'm going to make mistakes. But I want you to know that no matter what mistakes I make, at the end of the day, I still want to be with you. I didn't make the mistake to upset you. And I surely regret them. And I'm not saying you shouldn't get upset with me because you're completely justified in it. Mistakes make people angry. But at some point, I need you to forgive me for my misgivings. I need you to be able to let go of your anger towards me, to say, "Fine, you're off the hook. Your actions really hurt me but I'm willing to let them go because I love you just as much as you love me. And I want us to go over this hurdle." And I'll tell you now that I'm going to make a lot of mistakes. But I love you and I want to be better for you. And I want to be honest with you, and I want to share everything with you and keep no secrets. But to do that, I need you to forgive me for being a human, a faulty human with faulty thinking and faulty parts. And I promise that I will always extend you that same uncompromising love. And if we can't do this for each other, eventually, we're going to fall apart. So if you can't do this for me, then tell me now and I will walk out of that door for you and spare you all that pain. I don't want to hurt you but I will. Because life is long and I am imperfect. But every day you let me, I will try to be a better man for you. That's my promise." Now, this is your responsibility and don't you ever let yourself forget it. Truth, honesty and sacrifice is your life now and she can either walk away or accept that but you should always fight for her. You understand me?)

iii) She was very negative, damaging to my well-being, she never wanted to change.
(Well, I don't know, you kind of got yourself into that one on your own, didn't you? Was she always like that?... Yes, she was, you didn't do anything to make it worse. Well, maybe you did, you drove her into that corner and never let her out. You tried to change her but then it was only a year, wasn't it? You had barely started dating her.
But it was so tiring having to put up with that shit. Is this one really my fault as well?
Well, yes, you're always saying how you are an imperfect human being and you need forgiveness for not being everything you ought to be. She also needs this, she needs space and time to be the best version of herself, just like you. She doesn't want to rot in the shell of a woman. She wants the best for herself just like you want the best for her. Everybody fucking does. But you have to give her time and you have to give her the space to back out of the shithole you cornered her in, because every time you push her in that corner, she digs herself in just a little more, until she's so far in that hole that she needs a fucking excavator to get her out. Just give her space and protection and she will come out on her own, when she is ready. It might take a year, it might fucking take ten, but this is exactly what you've been fighting for for yourself. So give her a little fucking space and time. Man up and practice what you fucking preach, alright? Don't be a mother fucking cunt. Be honest and open about what you think she's doing right. Don't give yourself a fucking pat on the back everytime she changes and say that's all you because that's how you get people to not do the fucking thing you wanted them to do. Alright? Say this: "I like that you're optimistic about this. It gives me hope and joy and it puts a smile on my face and I love you more for it. You're strong and you're tenacious. No, don't joke about it or minimize it. Don't put up your self-defence mechanisms because I'm not attacking you. You're amazing and every day I'm with you makes me feel more hopeful, more alive, and more joyful than ever before. I really mean that.")

So what did you learn from this? Because you can blame anyone the fuck to Mars and back but that will get you fucking nowhere, OK? So do your part. Please. Because you're going to die alone, I don't know if you know that, going down this god-forsaken path. And every day you spend in your cognitive dissonance reducing habits is another day wasted not spending your life with your perfect partner. Don't give up, don't blame your partner, look within to fix yourself before you try to fix anyone else, and last of all, don't... don't fuck this up, buddy. This may be your last chance to do something good with your life and I love you and I hope you know that. That you're loved. Yes, by yourself, but maybe that's enough for now, while you find her, and when you do, don't fucking fuck it up. You've got this.

peaks and troughs

Today i realize that I am not a good boyfriend; I am not a good person, I am not a good partner, I do not add value to my relationships. Which in itself is not a big issue, or at least, it would not have been for a while until now. For much of my pre-adulthood and even for much of my adulthood so far, that has not been a problem. Why? I suppose because I've mostly been alone; alone to eat, alone to watch movies, alone to play games, alone to live, alone to myself. Well, not totally alone, of course. I have brothers, I have friends, but nobody I've been truly responsible to. Nobody that will wait up for me or wake up for me in the middle of the morning. I was responsible for myself and that was that. Accepting another person into my life isn't a foreign concept, nor is it something I've never done. Yet, somehow, I'm only realizing now that I've been a bad partner. Why? It's hard to say. Perhaps because people outside of a relationship don't really expect anything of you. If you tell them you'll meet them for lunch an hour before, they'll say, "Yes," or they'll say, "No." If they say, "Yes," they expect your company for the duration of a lunch and that'll be that. If they say, "No," well, no big deal, you're both on your way and you don't think about that person for the next week or so. Maybe I just haven't come to terms with the fact that a relationship isn't just about having someone there. It's about thinking about their feelings, keeping them updated, synchronizing your schedules, finding time within and without, respecting their wishes, respecting their time, respecting their communication, whether you understand it or not. Of course, you might not understand it immediately, you've grown up in adequately different contexts, you have different understandings of what you owe to the other, you have different values, and that is all acceptable, even sought after, because isn't that how a diverse organization works? People with different values and understandings coming together to solve problems more effectively? Does that also mean more conflict, misunderstandings, and problems? Yes, I suppose it would, but the idea is that the net worth should increase, after all is said and done.

So that brings us to today, and my partner is visibly furious at me. I've done something wrong: providing the understanding that we will be eating lunch together, unbeknownst to me but that's no excuse. I take full responsibility for my words, for not communicating better. Because my disrespect of my own time has translated to the disrespect for the time of other people. Because I seem to not have acquired the valuable skill that is expectation management and communication. Because I take favors for granted and imagine them to be at my disposal, despite everything. And I am wrong.

The truth is, Jade, you've been very understanding up until this point, and you've been an amazing friend, partner, and lover. The way you go out of your way to do little things for me like bring me tea, get me cakes, check whether I have dinner, share with me your interests, pick me up from the airport, love me, care for me, take me out, watch out for me, just some of the things that I appreciate so much. Yet, all I have ever given back is heartache, never gone out of my way to surprise you, never gone out of my way to exceed your expectations, never gone out of my way to think what you'd like and do it. For the longest time, I've wanted to get you flowers and yet, I can only go out to fail at that too. So you're left asking for a break up time and again and I don't even have the courtesy of giving you that. I'm sure you didn't really want it before but as the errors sum upwards, I'm not so sure anymore. You're probably better off without me but I hang on anyway, continuing to think that I can be better and then failing you again.

You once asked me in what way you're beautiful. Your oval face, your full lips. But more than that, your confidence, your smile, those are the things that I found the most beautiful about you. Your inherent need to be better at some things, if not all, your hunger for knowledge, your desire to contribute to something meaningful. Whereas I have always endeavored for mediocrity, whether I realized until now, I do not know, but that seems to be the case.

It seems silly to write you a post now, at a low point of our relationship. I'm sure this was not what you were expecting when you said you wanted one, though I've said that I only write at low points. I do appreciate you, Jade, and I do want this to work. I'm trying to be more attentive, I'm trying to be better. I suppose just like how I catch you at low points, you'll catch me at low points. I don't know if I'm the one bringing you down. I'm sure there are times when I do not, but the reality of our situation is this. We'll both find each other at peaks and troughs. Needing to justify the countless times you'll be upset with me in the future does not bode well for us, and for sure, I don't expect you to want to or have to put up with it. But I hope that you do. I'm sorry and I will do better. I love you.

what's here is gone and back again

The day we parted was not conspicuous. Indeed, it was just as any day; or any day had become after tired conversation turned us both bitter. Maybe you wanted it more. But, surely, I did as well. So it wasn't surprising, nor was it special in any way; we just parted and that was that, and I was maybe a little sad that something I thought was the greatest thing could so quickly collapse on itself, but also glad that it did, in the end, finally, ended. Outside, I was happier for it. I'm sure we both were. After trying to hold it together for so long and failing so spectacularly, maybe we were both glad to see it end. Then again, maybe a part of me resented you letting me go. If that part exists, I didn't feel it at the time. All I could see was that we tried and we failed and I wanted to move on. For definite, the blame was mine as well. For not being stronger, for not being better, for not being all you needed me to be, for not being all I needed me to be, for not having done more, for not having done better, for not being able, and for not being able to be there. I know where I have wronged, and I can admit that, at the end of the day, I was not enough. And you might hate me for that, and I understand, but know that even if you don't, the hate I feel for myself would cut it for us both.

On that day, I know now, a part of me did die.

You're returning now. Not forever but for some time. And on that morning of June when I texted you first, when I texted you and found out, I knew what I did not for so many months before: that I felt so lonely being a part of this world. And all the meaning I thought I had collected in this cold life, of fortune, of glory, of winning, of frenzies, of false euphoria, of meaningless conquers; they all became meaningless. Meaningless because it was not you. I missed you and I have missed you. For so long. I knew that. I knew that I missed you; from all those times I thought about how amazing you smelt, and how elated I felt being in your presence, and your gentle gaze, and your kind touch, and your abundant generosity, and your beautiful voice. I remember it all. I remember them fondly. So yes, I knew I missed you. But on that day only did I realize how much I missed you. On that day only did I truly see how much I missed talking to you. On that day only did I realize that I was so lonely without you. And maybe that's selfish of me. To expect you to acknowledge me. To expect you to acknowledge me when all I did when you demanded to be acknowledged was let go. But the thoughts just flooded my head; not against my will, but I should have known better. The hope that, maybe just for a minute, I could find myself sitting next to you, instead of across from you.

So yes, I do realize how disgusting it is. I do acknowledge that what we had together was just that: something we had. Not anymore. And maybe with this, I can let it go. Finally, truly, let it go. For all those times I thought to myself that we could never be together again, never did I think that it would be your choice after all. Because right at the very last moment, you proved to me that, no, this isn't my choice. This isn't my choice at all. So a toast to tonight. The night I realized that for all the shit I put us through, that I still want us back.

yardstick

"There is nothing more miserable than life."

Even as I say the words in my head, the ringing coalescence of the individual words make it seem less like a statement of generalities and more like an undeniable truth. It's a very strange thing, life. On the one hand, it is more miserable than anything, but at the same time cannot the same thing be said about life and joy? You would think then, that a balance would be achieved and maybe life isn't such a bad thing; but deep down, don't you hate the mediocrity as much as I do? Doesn't it piss you off that you're so regular? I know it pisses me off. It makes me angry, and mad, and a little bit sad. Is 50:50 really so great? Is being happy only half the time really what I want?

I will wake up tomorrow with no sense of urgency. I will sit around for a little while, then maybe I'll hit the gym. I'll come home, also with no sense of urgency, as is the case with mediocre people, not lucky enough to be born in the 85th percentile, also not lucky enough to be born so blissfully ignorant below the 15th percentile; or maybe I can do just the opposite. I can wake up with more sense of urgency and fight my way towards the 85th percentile mark; the yardstick with which society uses to measure successful people. It's your call, sir.

time of the month

So you say you need time. Don't we all? It's very simple, really. You go and say something vague. People try to understand; they may or they may just pretend to. Not that it matters, of course. If you really wanted to be understood, you wouldn't put it so vaguely. Do you want to be understood? That's really not the point, is it? You're just trying to find a way to express yourself. Sure, if that makes you feel better, go right ahead. You know it does and that's really all that matters right now. You see, the thoughts you have are normal or, at least, you'd like to think so. That's fine too. Don't we all feel like we're lost sometimes? But that's when you find yourself. You find a way to be OK with what you are, who you are, where you are, and you find a way to move on. It's really just that simple.

You have the time now. Tell me what you're thinking. You feel like the world is too cruel. Where do you want to go? What do you want to do? You've always felt that you'll amount to something but you're not so sure anymore. Rather than fearing this ambiguity, why don't you embrace it? Take it a day at a time but never waste it. How long is an hour? 60 minutes, 3600 seconds, 10 well-rehearsed questions or just the one that you got stuck on, the time it takes to learn something new but only barely; what's your point? That maybe an hour isn't a very long time. If you take 15 minutes to drive somewhere and another 15 minutes back, that's half an hour which leaves the other half for something. You get 24 of those a day, a third of which is used for sleep, two thirds of which you waste doing nothing great. Perhaps it's time you reconsider how you use your time; that is, if you've ever considered it at all. Make a schedule? That's a cheap effort, man. Don't mock this question. You know what I mean and you know you're a mess. It's time to think about the things you want to do. Which leaves you with one last question. For now.

What will you do?

implode

It's that time again... That time... That time of the many intervals in my life where I suddenly forget that some questions deserve answers but that doesn't mean it's important; like the meaning to life which goes without question isn't as important as the life itself; because having that life satisfies that meaning, otherwise why would that life be had?

So, the million-dollar question: Remove yourself from all sensation, all the duties and responsibilities of day-to-day life... Now imagine you were a ball of pure light consisting only of those thoughts most important to you. What are those thoughts?

I mean, it's an easy enough question. You remove the distractions of sight, smell, taste, touch, whatever have you; you remove the need to eat and shit and interact with things, you focus on what's most important to you and voila, you have your answer; but what if what's left is a ball of pure darkness rather than a ball of pure light? No, not a ball of pure darkness, but rather, a ball of vacuum, surrounded by a vacuum, surrounded by more vacuum; where matter and anti-matter have combined to create a nothingness so profound, you cannot even call it a vacuum. What if all that's left in the centerpiece of your most important and valuable thoughts is nothingness? What then? What if you have nothing important or valuable in your own mind? What if you could not think of a single thing on this Earth that you would give your life for? What if you lost anything and everything, but wait, you realize you didn't even really give much of a fuck about all that crap anyway? What if you had nothing except distractions in your life? If you were a lost soul with nothing? If your life was empty in the beginning, empty now and may forever be empty?

I'm not afraid of dying. It would be stupid to fear such. After all, it's inevitable anyway. What does scare me a little bit is living this life and losing it with nary a thought in my head for which I held dear...

for that which is small and quite nothing

There is a portion of my mind that may forever be alone, that which is not pleasant but is necessary... Why is it necessary? I don't really know. Why do I deem it necessary? Sometimes, I question myself and realize I don't make any sense. It should be right, then, to discard of such stupid ideas, should it not? So I do and I correct myself.

There is a portion of my mind that is alone right now in its little corner that whispers evil things; it is not pleasant nor necessary but it persists like a parasite, unwilling to go away just because I tell it to, rather preferring to taunt me for being weak and small and meaningless and nothing. There is a struggle for me to grasp at this thing, for I understand that I feel that way, and I have an idea of why, but I can't really catch it. It is a thought, floating in my head, floating and fleeting, that everytime I try to catch it, it flows through my metaphorical fingers. The idea that one can be so small, that life can be so cheap, the idea that the cogs of this civilization run on no matter how utterly fucked up any single individual is, that the system itself permits this and churns out losers every single day... is baffling and beyond my comprehension. Is it really important at all? Maybe not; but when you imagine burning a fire in an enclosed room to which end seems quite self-important that you should be worth a ceremony that bears the last honor (or otherwise) that a person may or may not deservedly receive, you kinda have to think about why you shouldn't.

So, there is nothing to say that just because you tried that you will find the answer. I'm sure a million people before me have tried to figure out just what it is that makes any single life more or less valuable than the rest, finding answers that are not really answers, finding reasons that are not really reasons, finding truths that are not actually truths... And a million people will follow after me and, possibly, tens of billions more after me if this pathetic existence is able to sustain itself before blowing itself out like the metaphorical candle. So yes, I did not find the answer, and yes, I may be quite dense, and yes, I may have something wrong right up there in the brains; which begs the question: What now?

I don't know.