Weed of Love

I wanted to call my most recent experience of Love just a Novocaine for my present state.

Just yesterday I dismissed it as something that just covered pain in my life.

I wanted to minimize it so that it was manageable.

I tried to cheapen it with words and bury it in a flurry of anecdotal actions.

But something profound has happened. Something I didn't expect.

I tried to pull it up by it's root. It appeared weak. It had already been mangled, stomped and torn by family and friends on both sides. But the root is too deep. How could something go so deep in so short a time?

I tore at all the outward evidence, but what remains, continues to grow.

I think this last year changed what love meant to me. Now, this weed, not planted by me, is beyond my control.

Oh, thank God it isn't the obsessive, manipulating, controlling, ugly form of love. That isn't actually love, but a devouring possessiveness. I find those kinds to be easy to uproot and cut them off instinctively. No, there is a curious, fateful pureness to this unrootable love.

I appologize for insulting it. I will nurture it now. It may not be planted in the soil of my design, but there may be a wisdom involved that is presently beyond me.

I am exhausted from the attempted uprooting. Dishonored, yet it remains. I am laying (panting, spent, soar, and surprised). This is a wild root, beyond anyone's control. It is not a novocaine of pleasure, but a heart ravishing un-reciprocated anomaly that refuses to be removed.

I will honor it now.

(this is the second letter - the only one that may ever be seen.)

anathema

What happens when you become an anathema to yourself?

So, to step through the door and charge the next thing before you. I have taken so many steps backwards in order to move forward. All things have been broken and all must be rebuilt.

But what am I building upon. I have written so much about it. Yet it feels so distant to me. The company I keep when I am by myself will not direct me.

It is time to make some drastic changes. I am again, un-novocained by love. Like an addict that finds himself sober and miserable and finally in a place to address the mess of his life, I have come to a new low.

This week has cost me 7 lbs. I have not been this light for more than 10 years. 7 lbs in one week...

Cory was right. I am not in a place to pursue the higher pleasures of life. My pride should be but a smeared stain I leave behind. But even now, I cling to it... holding my pain and failings and foolishness so close to my chest that 'nar a person can see it. An unlovable oger I am doomed to be, unless I shed this burden.

Will I trade my youth (ful looks), my health, my friends, my family, and my love just for this pride? On my tomb stone should read, "But he was still proud." Proud of what? What is left? Every part of my life is attacked and invalidated. What is left?

I can hear my well meaning friends speaking now, pointing to one thing or another that could be seen as great. Thank you, really. But, my friend, you are not helping. I am here for a reason, and it wasn't to find myself in this state. This is unacceptable. This is dis-respectable. Things must now change.

To my son, whom I may soon have to relinquish more of my time with, I love you more than my own life. I need to become strong again so I can be there for you for my whole life. I have no one to help me pick you up and drop you off, and it is preventing me from getting the jobs that will allow me to meet my obligations to you. Tears are falling as I think of loosing any moments with you. I have been novocained by the affection of a girl. Novocained so much that I didn't grieve the time I have already lost. That pain would have brought me to this low. It took me 6 months, but I am almost ready now. Weakened but sober. Damn it, what hurts more! The foolish love-lost, or the prospect of loosing time with the only person who has ever loved me without hesitation. What a fool I am.

I was doing okay today, until

I was doing okay today, until a friend IMed me and asked me how I was doing.

Suddenly I wasn't numb anymore. I felt every pain in my life. The most recent loss being the hottest sting.

No wonder people self-medicate. But it isn't the answer. I know. So I am not going to do it.

I think life is one big long grieving process that allows us to finally accept what life actually is.

You know, we are such a narcissistic society (Self Focused) and we are taught (by the Bleeping Village) to believe that life only okay when it is easy and fun and happy and fits into our preconceived plans. If it isn't, we think something is wrong.

Well, What if this is as good as it gets? What if those moments of love were my full portion.

Well, if you ask, today I am doing FINE - as in: F-ed-up, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional.

At least it is better than FUBAR.

At least I know where to look too. Imagine if I didn't...