Monthly Archives: February 2015

It Hurts Being Right

Sometimes I wonder if I just do things to be right. I anticipated a horrible depressive episode sometime in February, and I’m just now getting on the upside of it. Was I just fulfilling my prophecy or was it the usual catalyst? I wish I knew, either way, it sucked.

I was victim to a traumatic slideshow of all my life’s hurt and emotional pain. My brain, restless in its attempts to converge on a permanent solution to end all troubles. I mostly stamped my feet, I got really close to doing things I have no doubt I would regret.

I wanted so bad to tell her…

I’m not normalized. I’m so far removed from normal that I don’t have a decent concept of what it’s supposed to be. I dote on a woman who is not emotionally available for that. I have to beat my self up internally to not piece together these strange romantic ideas that feed me most of the day. I can’t get my mind off her, and worse, I struggle to do so, making for some painful internal dialogue.

Sometimes I’m ok that she’s taken. Glad even, so long as she’s happy. But, I fixate on this way too much. I mean, not for the first time, I have wondered if this is how stalkers start out. We’re best friends though. I would never do anything to hurt her. Even more strange than that, I find comfort in the thoughts of my ex-fiance. Sometimes it just seems like it would be nice to go back to being with her.

I don’t even know where I am headed anymore. I just know that I don’t socialize enough to really be in any sort of “dating game”, I’m fixated on this woman’s beauty and character, and I’m wanting to be back with my ex.

I don’t know why I wrote this. I thought it would make me feel better to get this out of my head. Really, I just have a headache still, same as when I started, and I should be lying down, not thinking about where I’m at on the relationship front.

It sucks being right sometimes.


The Odd One In

I feel that’s as apt a description as they come. I’m the odd guy. The nay-sayer of social networking and paradigms. The guy who goes against the grain, not because “he can”, but, because his values somehow formed that way. I don’t believe chivalry is dead as I have noted more than a handful of times. I don’t believe there is a mainstream capacity of society that really enriches and embraces who I am. I don’t believe kindness should go viral and I think we all owe it to each other to be empathetic in times of need.

It’s some odd development that leads me to understand, I’m the weird one, in the kind of way that almost everybody loves. I can fit in. Yet, I don’t want to. Maybe, it’s this anti-culture movement that allows for me to sway from one side to the other, not caring, nor missing a beat if I should declare myself eligible.

I feel more independent and freed than ever. I feel like I can take on the world. Usually I feel like this is my mania setting in, and then paranoia creeps up and slaps me back down to the trough. But, this is sustained. I can feel it, I know it. In a world where nothing was ever absolute to me, I see what I’ve never seen in me before, and I love it. I feel reborn, renewed to fight the day with unending strength.

And when I waiver, I don’t fall, I’ve come to reinforce it. There’s been a few people in my life that got me here. One particular lady, that for reasons I can’t fully explain or comprehend has served as a most wondrous catalyst. It feels unfair to call her a friend. Even best friend does not do her justice. But, I know now my time is not to be spent on that matter or any tangential one.

My time is to be spent on me. Molding and creating myself anew. I can be what I have needed me to be. I don’t need others, but can embrace them. I’m wonderful. I am wonderful.

I am wonderful.

I feel ready. To take on the world. To not let up. I’ve been weak. I’ve been full of excuses, rationalizations, taking comfort in other’s pity. No, not any longer. I’m me. Even when I was weak, I was full of the things I admired. I have made mistakes, but I have learned from them. I carry that with me, and mold myself to something new, better. Not for anyone else.

When this started, I wanted to be better for her. Then I wanted to be better for someone like her when the chance came along. Now, I will be better, but, not for anyone other than myself. And when, not if, my future lady enters, I will be full of all the confidence, and romance, and care and love that one body can muster. I feel it intuitively. I know it within. And that’s something to be happy about.

An Attempt at Something Positive

Sometimes I want to write and nothing flies to the screen (or page). Sometimes I want to rest and words overflow my mind. This is neither of those. This is a time when I read something, just a blurb of something, and flew to my blog to discuss the ideas roiling around in me.

Chivalry is dead. For all the likes of men who fancy the “game”, chivalry is dead.

Chivalry is dead. For all the likes of women who let themselves be nothing more than flesh to appease a man’s carnal appetite.

Chivalry is struggling. For all the men who try to respect women and find a lack of reciprocation.

Chivalry is starving. For all the women who tried a “nice guy” but it didn’t work out, or thought they had more fun with the “bad boy”.

Chivalry is dead. I know because I greet the people who murdered it every day, with them all too unaware of what they’ve done and continue.

Chivalry is dead. Because the women who once made it worth doing, are gone, left picking up crumbs, believing they are far too undeserving or inadequate.

Hark! This fight is not yet over! Chivalry does not die with new cultural norms. It dies with me, and with any other man who dare to stand on her side.

Chivalry lives. So long as I shall breathe, and I know a man or two as well, she shan’t lay slain, in pool of acronyms created to communicate with supreme brevity. She shall be put forth, and with honor, we will respect women and pursue courtships over fleshly desire.

I’m not the only one. Even if the norms have changed, I, we, can resist the tide. Much like people refer to Latin as a “dead language”, it is still archived and present in the tongues we have now. It is still revered and presented in many ways. It is anything but dead. So too must chivalry be.

Maybe women don’t want us to be chivalrous. If there’s a woman who vehemently opposes it, then I know she’s not the one I want to spend my time forming a relationship with. Though there’s nothing inherently wrong with the change in the societal norms, I’m not going with that change.

If being chivalrous means I sit here thinking of the things I will do to garner attention, to be romantic, even if the implementation is never realized, that’s ok. If there’s not a woman out there who wants me for who I am, then I desire no such romantic relationship. Even on my own, I can be chivalrous. And I know a handful of men in my own life, who are just the same, some to an even greater extent.

Chivalry is dead? Hardly. Maybe endangered, certainly far from the norm, but, dead? I hardly consider that a true statement. For if I am chivalrous, and chivalry is dead, what does that make me? Even in my solitude, I will stand strong. Perhaps chivalry is on some hard times as a culture, but, it isn’t yet dead, and I would know.

Trepidation in the Land of Confusion

We all walk a winding path. One full of twists and turns, in most our lives there is a few moments which we have thought to contain the potential of a lifetime movie. More and more I feel this to be true. Not just true of myself or of few others, but of the whole population. We all have some sort of drama, this is life. Life has drama when you have interactions with others. Life has both wonders and terrors. That is normal, and I’m starting to feel normal, even if there are bursts inside of me that scream to be something else.

I find myself sitting on the idea of patience and normality, more so than ever before. I have one person to thank for serving as a catalyst of this peace, even if it isn’t yet consistent. Ironically, she’s also the only reason I have any turmoil on the inside.

As a principled man, I have to subvert my feelings and expression of them. As a lovelorn lad, I only crave nothing more than best use my talents to draw her attention. She did not create this turmoil, I did. I saw a beautiful person do great things for me, and I have to make weird I guess.

Sometimes I rationalize it, both for and against me. Just depends on which perspective I choose for the day. There has been no one in my life with whom I’ve entrusted more. This is still unclear to me, although, I’m sure I could chalk it up to a “perfect storm” of events and context. I think maybe it’s normal to have feelings for people even if they are not available to reciprocate them. The line that must be walked is not to destroy these feelings, but rather to mold them into something different.

I find myself daydreaming more and more, a dangerous game I know, one I won’t win, I’m sure. But, it’s like the more I accept it and converge on the idea of patience, the more at peace I am. I desire to do these “romantic” gestures for her, but, that’s where I have to stop, I think going through with them is crossing that line, and I must remember to only toe it. Perhaps there is a way to express these things from the friend perspective. That’s where I feel I spend a lot of my daydreaming. Constructing ideas that are appropriate to present as a friend.

I don’t rightly know where this infatuation is entirely from. I can pick a lot of things out and make reasons for it to be here. But, that does little else other than to focus on it more than is needed. The fact of the matter is, I’m a hopeless fool for the time being, and I have to be ok with that. I have to be ok with me being who I am.

I’m a guy that can achieve greatness. Greatness of the likes I never dreamed. I don’t feel as blind to my own self as I once was, and I have a wonderful friend to thank for that. I touch people, both in my life and outside it. I am charitable. I am intelligent. I am kind and loving. I am creative. I have a lot of talent within and am deserving of someone who gives as much as I do.

It’s time I put an end to feeling inadequate or inferior and simply try harder to focus my talents. It’s time I do this to move on with my own life. And even if I can never hold her hand or stand beside her as my dreams beg for, I have an awesome friend who has done more for me on my journey than she could ever comprehend. Again, in time I will move on, it’s not a matter of picking myself apart, it’s a matter of acceptance. Acceptance for who I am, who I will be, and knowing that I’m going to be ok and be ready to move on in my own pace, nothing more, nothing less.

Thank you world, it’s been a painful ride up to this point, but, I’m gonna take it on foot from here on out.