What I Want

It’s not hard to imagine what it is I want, because I’m sure it’s what you want as well, for we all want the same thing....

I want love. I want a friend. I want a best friend.

I want someone I can call up when I have nothing going on, who I’m perfectly content sitting and doing nothing with, simply because we’re together.  

I want someone I can talk with, not just talk to, because I want conversation...about everything...about nothing...and anything in between, with someone who has thoughts and opinions of their own and is capable of expressing them.

But I also want someone who understands that sometimes it’s best to say nothing at all.

I want someone I can trust with the things I keep hidden from the rest of the world.

I want someone who knows everything about me—the bad, as well as the good—but wants to be with me anyway.

I want someone I can laugh with, really laugh with.

I want someone who unknowingly inspires me to be better, yet I feel safe enough with to be nothing other than what I am.   

Empty Nights

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

3:21am

It’s another one of those can’t sleep kind of nights, where all you do is lay there and think about all the things you didn’t have time to think about during the day, and all the things you try your best to not think about at night. For whatever reason, there are nights like tonight when all that stuff comes bubbling to the surface and your mind isn’t tired enough to push past the thoughts, and you are left with no other choice than to face them.

I won’t bore you with a run-down of all the nonsense that’s been spinning around in my head for the last two hours. Instead I want to focus on one thing I stumbled upon that I felt was kind of profound.

Maybe it’s just me, but as a single guy I find that most nights I lie here thinking about girls before finally drifting off to sleep. For a long time it was just one girl that I thought of, but the time has come to try and move on from that, so I do my best to ignore her and focus on others. I was sort of doing that tonight. The girl I began thinking about is one that I’ve thought of before. I knew her a long time ago when we were both kids. I kind of liked her back then, but my family moved away and I forgot about her for close to ten years.

I started thinking about what it would be like to—you know—“be with her”. I tried to imagine how I would feel lying there close to her, feeling her body against mine. What would she smell like? What would we talk about? Would I even enjoy it? She is a very nice looking girl, so I have no doubt the man in me would be attracted to her and would enjoy the physical feelings that go along with that kind of situation. But based on past experience, I’m not so sure the experience would leave me completely satisfied.

There was a time not too long ago, while I was at a very low point in my life, that I spent a night  with a girl that I really didn’t know very well. When I say I was “with her”, I don’t mean we slept together. We did get familiar, but that was the extent of it. While it was nice in some respects, I’m not sure I’d do it again. I wasn’t comfortable, and nothing about it felt right. I can’t say for sure if I’d feel the same way with this other girl or not.

Compared to a lot of guys my age I have been with very few girls—only three. And even then, while I’ve gone pretty far with a couple of them, I’ve never been all the way. The first two were girls I had gotten to know on a personal level. I had grown to care about them deeply for who they were and not just how they looked on the outside, and so being with them like that meant something. But the last one was something I would undo if I could. Now it is another lesson learned.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that just sleeping with a girl—even a beautiful one—isn’t what I want. What I’ve found is that more than anything I want to be emotionally connected to someone before having any sort of intimate relationship with them, because the intimacy is what I crave above all else. And no matter what she may look like, how rich her family is, how good she smells, or what she might say to me, unless she is someone I care about, it wouldn’t mean a thing.

Feelings

It’s times like now that I feel like I’m a broken person, caught and tangled in a web that is not my own, doing what I can to get by, and in doing so, living for everyone but myself. It’s an interesting thing because I do not have any major responsibilities. I have no job or family to keep me busy or to attend to. I have my parents. I feel a responsibility to help them with issues that they’ve gotten themselves into since I am living in their house now. But it’s a responsibility I don’t want. At this age I want to do what I want to do. Even with all this time I have I feel unable to do that though.

Twenty minutes ago my mom came into the room to talk about my plan for this next year. As she always seems to do, she chose the wrong moment—literally as I was just getting up to go work on something. She comes in with her annoying glass of zip-fizz and wants to sit down. That’s never a good thing with her. If she sits down it will be a while before she or you will leave. Even when she doesn’t sit it can be a while. But this time she sat.

I simply do not know why I react the way I do with her. But when she comes in and sits down like that I get irritated. And unfortunately I can’t hide it or pretend that I’m fine. So the irritation comes out in my voice.

I suppose it’s because I’m selfish. To be honest I feel like everyone is to some degree. Whether or not I’m worse than others, I can’t say. Anyway, I didn’t want to talk right then, and so my answers were short and simple, and the frustration could be easily heard. In all of three or four minutes after she’d sat down I’d managed to piss her off enough that she broke my pencil, stormed out of the room, jumped in her car, and sped off.

I try to make myself feel better by reminding myself that I’m not like that with everyone—just my mom it seems like. But is that entirely true? Or is it that I hide how I really am from the rest of the world and my mom, since she has a relationship with me unlike everyone else, receives the bitter side of my true self? I try to justify myself by pushing the blame off onto her—that if she wasn’t like she is I wouldn’t react the way I do, but that can’t be the cause. I must be at fault as well, and because of that I feel broken.

Like everyone else in the world, I want to have a romantic relationship with someone. I want a girlfriend and eventually a wife someday. But the older I get, and the more I realize how I am with my mom, I’m afraid it might be best to avoid that. I don’t think I’m capable of a healthy relationship anymore. I don’t know how else to describe it other than I’m broken.

If I were to talk to my mom about it she would talk my ear off about how you have to communicate with your partner, and then she’d tell me to read this and this book about it to understand it, which is exactly true. But she just over does it. In all honesty, I don’t like talking to my mom about anything serious. I think there are some people in this world that you just simply don’t jive with, and I feel like my mom is one of those. She is an incredible person with a superhuman strength sometimes, but the way she and I are doesn’t mix well. I like to do my own thing, and she likes to give her opinion on how it should be done or what should be done. And if it’s something she has already done then she has a hard time standing back and letting you just do it. She can’t comprehend how someone would want to disregard the advice of someone who’s been there already in lieu of figuring it out on their own. But that’s how I am. I don’t want people’s help usually.

Now that I say that, I realize there isn’t any real middle ground. If you want me to do something you either have to tell me explicitly how you want me to do it, or shut up, stand back, and let me do it my own way. It’s weird, and it can’t be good. My mom likes to have it done her way. And she can’t just give a quick little bit of direction either. If she’s giving “guidance,” it’s usually in the form of a full blown lecture on how to do it. And for me, coming from her, that never works.

Matter of the Heart

My family on my dad’s side doesn't talk much, and especially not about anything serious—like feelings. Now my mom, she does not have this problem. After growing up around people like this I guess it’s not hard to understand why I tend to not share my feelings either.

But you know, it’s weird, because inside I’m a really deep, emotional person. I hate chit chat and small talk and little gossipy things that don’t mean anything. When I’m upset, I want nothing more than to let it out. Inside I will be screaming out hoping someone will hear me. But for whatever reason, when I need to talk the most, that is when I say the least. I literally shut down and make it a point not to say anything that would cause someone to ask me how I’m feeling. It’s dumb. But I think the reason is because if someone asks me how I’m feeling, I don’t want it to be because they feel like they are suppose to ask me that. I want them to really care enough to ask me about it on their own accord. Even then though, I will make someone fight to get at what I’m really feeling, because that’s just how I am.

I often wonder, though, about how life would be if we simply told each other how we really truly feel. I was talking with one of my cousins about this at Thanksgiving, about how much our family likes to talk about feelings. But then I was like, “You know, it’s stupid that we don’t, because I bet inside we all wish we did.” And I probably am right. Everybody wants to feel close to somebody, and you don’t get that way by not telling them how you feel.

So why then do we not do it? It’s because of fear. We are afraid of being rejected for how we feel, or of being ridiculed or harassed. We’re afraid the recipient might not feel the same, and therefore not understand. In a lot of cases it could be because we think no one really cares. I know when I want to talk about my feelings is when I’m upset about something, and who wants to listen to someone complain about stuff they’re upset about? Most of the time I can’t even understand my feelings, so I’m afraid to talk to someone about them out of fear of being annoying or something.

But what if we all just grew a pair and maybe started telling each other the good things we feel, like when we care about someone. I couldn't begin to count the number of nights I've laid in bed thinking about how it would be to tell a certain girl how I feel about her, or hoping a girl would text me. But what if all those nights she was laying there thinking the same thing? Or have you laid there at night wishing you could talk to her/him about how you’re feeling about her/him or whatever else you’re feeling, but you don’t because you don’t want to seem needy or annoying to weak? Well they are humans too, they have those same feelings. Maybe those sleepless nights would cease to exist if we’d just tell each other. I know it’s crazy and will never happen, but it’s an interesting thought.

The big one that gets me is the classic: what if they died tonight and you never told them how you really care about them? I have a Word document saved on my computer titled “Things I Wish I’d Said...” that is kind my way of dealing with that, because most of the time I don’t feel it would be accepted if I told people. But I really want to. Especially when it comes to girls I like. That last part is pretty natural, I think, because like I said, we all want to be close to somebody, and that’s how you do it. I did tell a girl once, but it was after the relationship had ended. I’m still glad I did it though.

Like The Movies

One of my greatest fears is to end up with a life like my parents. They are not happy together. Things have happened over the years that have changed them in ways none of us can understand. As they grew through childhood they were shaped and formed by their parents, just as being around them has undoubtedly had a hand in shaping me. The tragedy is that in the beginning it wasn't like this. For a time it seemed there was a purpose for them to be together. But now it seems that whatever purpose there may have been has run its course.

Tonight, as they argued once more about everything the other does wrong, I chose to drown out their voices with a movie, and momentarily escape to a world where love is real. The movie was The Lucky One, one of the several Nicholas Sparks novels adapted for the silver screen. For me, movies are so much more than entertainment, they are an escape from reality.

The trouble with romantic movies like this is they create impossible standards that guys and girls expect from each other. I have heard more than one girl say they need to stop watching those kind of movies because they now have impossible standards for guys. My trouble is that they create impossible standards for me. I feel like I need to be the kind of guy I see in these movies, and I know full well I am not.

And I now feel like that is how real love is supposed to be—like it is in the movies. I do realize real life is much different, but that doesn’t change anything. Logic can’t always change what you feel inside.

So far in my life, the feelings I get watching these movies is the closest I can seem to come to love...or anything remotely like it. I have issues getting close to people, and especially girls, so I’m not sure if I’ll ever find anything more. And on nights like tonight, I’m not sure I want to.

Midnight Madness

It's about 1am right now. I should have been asleep long ago, but I am not.

I wanted to take a few minutes to jot down a couple paragraphs here, because I'm sure my enormous fan base has been missing me like crazy. It's alright everyone! I have not died in a car crash, I am still here with you to share my wit and humor and inspiration with the masses.

So before I forget, I must say this: what I love most about a blog such as this is that here I am free to express the hurt and frustrations I have without any hesitation of what people may think. There is freedom in anonymity; it's refreshing. On facebook (and most other situations I find myself in ) I can't say what I'm really feeling because I don't want to be that guy that's always depressed and sad and complaining about life, because I hate those people. I hate whiners, and I hate the "whoa is me" mentality altogether. So I sure as heck better not BE one of those people. As a result, I hold back. I keep it inside. But here...I don't have to. Now if only time wasn't in such high demand so I could regularly come here to vent....*sigh*. Oh, woah is me!

Missing You

Dear friend,

I can’t believe it’s been ten months since we went out separate ways. It seems like it’s been forever.

I’m sitting here in class right now, not paying too much attention. I can remember the days when I would sit here in class counting down the minutes until you would wake up cause I was so anxious to get your “good morning J” texts.

There are so many things I miss about you; so many things I’m sure I will never find in another human. It scares me to think I may never want to be with someone as badly as I wanted to be with you. Sometimes I still cry my eyes out because I know being with you will never happen.

I know you told me once that you don’t think I’m capable of being crazy about someone like you wanted someone to be crazy about you. I want you to know, though, I may not be the type to paint your name on a water tower, or scream out that I love you in the middle of a crowded restaurant, but I was and still am crazy about you. It’s been ten months since the last time we were together with the hope of a future, and there is not a day that goes by, hardly an hour even, that I am not thinking about you and missing you. You still haunt my dreams from time to time. You are in every song that comes on the radio. I still have my favorite text message from you in my inbox, and there are 12 voicemails from you that I don’t have the heart to erase.

So, you see, even though you’re as good as gone, you are still everywhere. I’m afraid I will be forever haunted by the memory of what we shared for such a short time, and by the pain of knowing I’m not the one you want.

I know you have moved on and found love now, and I sincerely hope he’s good to you and for you in every way. Because if there is anyone on this earth that deserves to have a fairy tale love story, it is you. And not that it matters much now, but I want you to know there is almost nothing I wouldn’t have given to have been that man for you.

Please take care of yourself wherever you are. And though I’m now just a fading memory from a past best forgotten, I hope you won’t forget about me, and that I love you. I realize I never had your whole heart, but at the very least I hope there is a small corner of it somewhere that will forever belong to me. As it looks right now, you will forever have all of mine.

Take care. I wish you the best of everything. And goodbye.