Showing posts with label companionship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label companionship. Show all posts

Persisting In The Depths

As a warning of sorts I just want to say that I am about to be openly, brutally honest. And it pains me to feel like such a disclaimer is necessary, because I feel like this should not be the case if people were less judgmental and more welcoming and accepting of the thoughts and feelings of others of especially their very own generation, whom they should relate to more than ever.

 Yet I see all the time people openly criticizing others for “being vague” on social media or for “confusing (social media outlet) with your diary.” This strikes me as odd because here are two extremes both seemingly frowned upon by the more general public. But this should not be the case. There should be no imposed limit to the amount of “acceptable” sharing. It troubles me deeply to see this in my own generation, because we in particular should be pioneering this treasure of a communicative outlet and appreciating all that it allows us to share with each other. This is amazing, what we can do on here, how many connections we can maintain and interact and identify with. Absolutely amazing, and I for one cherish every single last glimpse into the minds, into the feelings and emotions of any person I’ve ever met (or haven’t) and have connected with, here on the internet where input ones and zeros amount to so much societal potential. It should not be a stirring pot of judgment and resentment. But if you think I’m mistakenly writing in my diary? Excuse me; I am only trying to share my inner thoughts and feelings with you.

Sometimes people just need an outlet, and an outlet can take so many forms, be it a diary entry, a face-to-face conversation, a blog, a punching bag, a book, a long drive, a phone call, a jog, some painting, some music to make or listen to, a dance floor, a chat room, a puzzle; it could literally be anything. Something makes somebody feel like they have dealt with something, made some progress, and this should not be seized and stomped on and pulled apart because others felt annoyed at having witnessed it. Projecting it outward is an act, deliberately executed, and whether or not you agree with whatever it is, or think it “whiny”, you should respect that brave lunge and feel privileged to have been a recipient of an outward expression.

So I write this, because I feel like I am close to achieving some measure of peace with my particular circumstance at long last, and this outpouring I have been putting such careful thought and consideration and feeling into is, I feel, an important step in the final stages of this progress. So I’m just going to leave this right here, after it’s completed. It will already have served its ultimate purpose whether or not it’s brutally ripped apart or appreciated, the underlying objective being to express oneself, and share a passion… and passion has no bounds.

 And there is a passionate pull, an intense burden so heavy inside me that it’s all I can do to not outwardly portray it. As I’m sure many know, I’ve found quite a lot of success lately: I’ve graduated, I’ve moved, I’ve gotten a good job, I’ve met so many new people, I’ve more deeply connected with so many existing acquaintances, I’ve had so many good times and I have so many places I can call home and so many friends with connections so deep I can’t ever imagine losing touch. I used to endure an entire year before I got the chance to visit friends in Cheyenne for a woefully brief two weeks for vacation. And now that I’ve brought myself into the region, and have spent so much time up there, I begin to feel deprived if I spend those same two weeks without being in town, I’ve re-adapted so fast. The acclimation was startlingly swift, even though I anticipated swiftness.

 But I left behind an unimaginable fortune when I got here; she did not follow me. I did not know if she would, that was the mighty risk I took. But I felt like I needed to be here. It was so deep inside me I couldn’t just brush it off. It tugged at my heartstrings, persistently escalating over eight long years to the point where I had never felt so sure, not about anything. And so went for it, and so I am here. And I am happy; geographically, I feel like I am where I belong. I look around and I just appreciate being here. I swear there is a greater beauty in the skies, in the colors sometimes shining at particular angles of retreating sunlight… perhaps this is due to the altitude difference. I enjoy being physically nearer to the cloud cover overhead, and even the landscape has a certain appreciable quality to it. It’s somehow in the shapes and the colors of the rolling countryside and the mountains so nearby in such contrast to the stretches of plains seem to cast a majestic quality upon everything around; I just adore it all.

 But for all of this, romantically I lost it all. My arms were wide open just in case, and the truths of my most hopeful intentions were, as far as I could judge at the time, made entirely known. In my head it all fit so well: she was having trouble job hunting after her own graduation, a lot of her friends had moved away or were not very responsive, and at such a point in a young life it is perhaps the most opportune time to embark on such a commitment as moving so far and striking out fresh. Yet she stayed and moved on, despite the efforts, despite my attempts to convince her of my hopefulness for us. And I hold no ill feelings toward her at all, of course. It was not ugly in any way. And in a reversed situation I can’t say what I would have done… I feel like I would have gone along, had I been in a similarly uncertain situation, but of course I cannot know, having never been there. So this must be stressed: there are no hard feelings.

 But I close my eyes and there she is, wearing that so-familiar outfit. It is that simple, if I wish to call upon it: in my mind she is unchanging in all of her incredible beauty. And there’s her laugh, so hearty and contagious, and there is that characteristic sparkle in her eyes so hard to look away from. They are ingrained into my memory as deeply as any learned equation. And I drift off to sleep at night and she’s here, or I’m there, or we’re somewhere entirely unfamiliar, but it’s we, and I cannot help but wish with all of my being that I’d wake up and find this to be reality. And her slightest, most gentle touch just effortlessly peels all of the hard-won armor from my skin; I am utterly powerless against her. Sometimes I walk into a room and catch such a brief whiff of a familiar scent that for a fleeting moment she’s right there beside me, and sometimes I hear the faint whisper of a voice so deeply entangled into my mind that she appears in context, bright-eyed and strikingly beautiful as ever. I might taste the gentle touch of her lips upon mine and I imagine the cascades of a thousand waterfalls which cannot possibly manage to drown out the joyful ringing in my head. Such is her legacy to me.

 I’m like a tiny creature cradled in the palms of her gentle hands, gazing up into dark brown eyes so deep as if an entire galaxy could be harbored within. Her slightest breath could topple mountains and turn landscapes to dust. My heartstrings are tangled into every last part of her body and mind, doomed to be tugged every which way with the slightest graceful movement. I would want to follow her anywhere, yet her presence fills the sky from horizon to horizon and churns within the individual grains of dirt beneath my feet as I wander the Earth. If not into her arms then there is nowhere else in particular to go because she is everywhere, is in everything.

But reality, of course, inevitably sinks back in… eventually, as it must, because I must move on as well. There is no other option when you’ve given every last effort you know to express the open invitation for someone. It simply becomes the reality which must be accepted. Our own personal desires may drive every single thing that we do, but our own personal desires do not determine what’s true. They do not themselves alter the separate desires of another person. The sheer force of my will alone cannot influence the situation any further.

 And so I admit now that I do not know how to move on, myself. I don’t know how one does it without eventually coming into another such companionship which works to overtake the one just left behind, smoothing out the “moving on” process. I don’t mean to trivialize the following relationship, but rather to acknowledge the power it could hold in salvation. You shouldn’t seek it out because of this, but because you find it you could be freed. But without that path, I stand at infinite crossroads, no specific path being chosen, and time itself becomes the means by which I move on.

 You hear that time “heals all wounds”. But I don’t believe that time itself should be what gets the credit, rather, I think we just forget how much they hurt. Time is the means by which we ever so gradually lay new, fresher memories and feelings upon the previous. You may forget one as it fades into the ever-receding past, but it will always linger, always persisting in the depths of you, ready to be called upon by random sensory triggers. Such is her reality to me, now. It comes and it goes, it’s fleeting and it’s persistent, it’s vivid and it’s vague, and it’s all of these at once in uncontrollable combinations.

 The frustrating part about it now is that somehow I start to feel guilty if I begin to develop feelings for someone… as if I’ve let myself wander across some boundary I somehow should know I have no place being, even after all these months. And this is silly, I know, but it’s real, and I’m unsure of how to combat it. Because when I have tried so hard to be such good friends with so many incredible people, I then don’t know how to not jeopardize this, how to conclude that -this- particular one could be more somehow, and reciprocated. I feel like I don’t know how to be more than friends with anybody else after all of that, no matter how deeply I want to, or if want to. I don’t even know how ridiculously obvious this might have already been to anyone on the outside.

 But I can say one thing with absolute, unwavering certainty such that I’ve never once been able to say about anything before: it is because of such an intensely emotional investment into this one single relationship I managed to let slip through my fingers that I still, and always will, believe in utter confidence that true love is a thing, is obtainable and is worth every single shred of effort you can put forth to call your own. It is as fragile as it is real, as painful as it is wonderfully blissful, and can be as heavy a burden on the soul as incredibly free as it makes it.

 I do still believe the best is yet to come.

Posted by Unknown | at 10:49 PM | 0 comments

The Fragile Eggs of Companionship





I've had the sinking feeling, at times, that I've put too many precious eggs in too few welcoming baskets. And at times I’ve been afraid that some of them, some of the most carefully and deeply invested eggs, have been casually dismissed…neglected…tossed around…even stomped on, crushed and obliterated, whether intentionally or not. And when this happens, what else is there to do but pick up the pieces, these shattered remnants of what had been a blossoming interpersonal relationship, and try another approach? I’m not one to just turn my back and walk away, because there must have been a good reason why I had been compelled to invest so deeply. Some combination of factors had made it worth it, had made it seem reciprocated in kind, and I want to put all effort into at the very least reevaluating and redistributing these factors so that something, if not all of it, can still remain between us. Sometimes this was just a casual friendship, sometimes a much more enduring one, once it was even an intimate one. As it turns out, obviously enough, the magnitude of the resulting damage is in this same order.

Interestingly, it's not those who blatantly stomp on the eggs who inflict the most pain. In this way it's quick and made very clear, at least, despite the violence, despite the pain. No, rather, it's the more casual, slow-going dismissals that are particularly difficult to make sense of and deal with—when you don't realize the damage that has been accumulating, that mess slowly growing in the bottom of that particular basket, oozing and spreading over any other still-healthy eggs. It slowly infects the entire scope of the relationship, so gradually that it goes almost entirely unnoticed until one day you open your eyes and all of the damage, all of the shattered broken mess, is laid bare.

My first instinct upon realization is to gather them up, all of these eggs I've distributed, all of the ones still healthy and functioning at least and, after cleaning up the messes of those that didn’t endure, encase them in something hopefully impenetrable like diamond, or adamantium. Protect them, these fragile investments of mine, so as not to let any possibility remain of such abuse and hardship. Then, once properly armored, maybe give a few of them back (just a few!) to each connection of mine, enough to at least enjoy a nice friendship, and keep the rest of them locked safely away inside an unbreakable vault to deny any access.

But what good would that do? Sure they'd be safe inside the confines of their hardened shells, but life would then be almost unbearably dull and lonely. Because what at first seems better and more comforting, to carefully reinvest the new batch and take in the comfort of knowing they will be safe in their armored shells, is actually its own separate kind of trap; the comfort would be short-lived. The relationships they symbolize would now be unchanging by definition, perhaps even more destined to fade because of this. Because again, a gradually fading, casually dismissed investment is much more damaging in the end, being unchanging in this decline, than one that can be addressed and modified accordingly.

The deeply-rooted trouble here is that addressing the complications of any relationship requires the willful cooperation of all parties involved. So your friend, or your partner, must also desire to make amends together with you. I believe this is the supreme difficulty we all face in our relations, why it sometimes seems so difficult to connect with those we hold so dear. They must also realize that there is something which needs addressing, that there is perhaps not enough cushioning for those ever-fragile eggs you are incubating together. This is the case with even the most casual of friendships, and I assert that this is the primary cause of most, if not all, damaged relations of all kinds.

I think, then, of all the potential, all the as yet unrealized beauty that these priceless, fragile little eggs can bring me and others, the fullness that will otherwise be hopelessly lacking among all relations. Whether this is a “standard” friendship, even if maybe one of those incredibly fun ones that are destined to dwindle somewhat in time (but on good terms), maybe even one of those exceptionally real, dependable, everlasting ones that you can rely on until the bitter end of time, or maybe, just maybe, a romance, the truest most beautiful fairy tale come to reality, it doesn’t alter this fundamental idea of cooperation and mutual effort and consideration.

And sometimes a little nudge is all another person needs to realize a shortcoming on their part; for this reason it is always important to keep up your own efforts. I’ve noticed a lot of people tend to sit themselves on the sidelines and insist that the other person is the one who needs to come out and say or do something, but the danger here is that if everyone involved is under the same impression, nothing is going to happen. Somebody has to begin the effort! But I, or anyone, cannot bring out this potential alone. It is, as uncomfortable as the realization makes me, entirely dependent on others. This has to be done carefully; it can't be forced, or pressured, or otherwise coerced without jeopardizing the very thing being attempted to develop.

No, the eggs need to be able to grow, to hatch and blossom, on their own time. If we want any chance of a meaningful relationship (any kind, friendly or romantic), the eggs need to exist in all their full fragile glory. For when you are entrusted with these eggs you are their incubator, their basket. You need to understand the responsibilities you have been trusted with. Understand that they need love, patience, and understanding—all that you can muster, to the absolute best of your ability. They will thrive and reward you beyond the wildest dreams imaginable. Nothing else in the world can provide this like a truly understanding, mutual relation can.

I can't help but wonder what things would be like if people, with all their feelings and emotions, could be reliably fit somehow into a calculation. A set of calculations can triangulate the position of a tiny rock, or spacecraft, hurtling through space to incredible accuracy. This can be very, very useful, for obvious reasons. That the factors involved are even able to be recognized and predicted make all the difference. The same goes for many, many things in our lives. But such a strategy is all but useless with a person's feelings. Sure, there must be people who have developed an uncanny skill in reading people, and maybe can make startlingly accurate predictions about others and how to go about building whatever depth of relation is most achievable between them. But I don't think there is the slightest chance of such a practice being even remotely reliable on a large meaningful scale, or across a meaningful timeline, by most people. The depth of each person's mind is an unimaginably complex place, and I find it somewhat… frightening, to be honest, but ruthlessly fascinating. Maybe it's a wonder anyone gets along at all, let alone bond like so many lifelong friendships have or especially truly fall in love. These precious eggs we are always entrusting into each other represent so much of what is so advantageous to us as human beings, able to form these sorts of bonds among each other and face the wild complexities of the world together.

And so absolutely any connection is meaningful and important beyond any combinations of words, and is worthy of every bit of care and consideration possible. It's just not worth missing out on because of what may very well be petty differences exaggerated by stubbornness from one or both sides. That person you met one time, who said something weird and you never talked to them again, could have been the most beloved friend or companion you could possibly have hoped to have. That person who you used to be good friends with, and who never seems to call or want to hang out anymore and you don't feel like you should have to "put all the effort in," could also be the most beloved friend or companion you could possibly have. One extra little egg entrusted to them could have made all the difference. You don’t know unless you’ve put forth all of your effort deemed worthy for their cause, and carefully but graciously invested upon them a portion of your own collection of priceless eggs for incubation.

Whatever the case, the nourishment of these eggs needs cooperation and uncompromising honesty. For the love of all things, please let’s communicate with each other. Effectively! It's stunning how often this gets in the way, this simple lack of communication, needlessly complicating things or destroying them altogether. When there are differences between two people, embrace them! Differences can help us learn together, see things from entirely separate vantage points, like nothing else can. And when there are similarities between people, embrace them as well! Similarities can help us reinforce our own drives and interests because we find comfort when other people have developed them similarly yet independently.

If you feel even the slightest shred of feeling for a person, even the tiniest bit of compassion for another, don't completely give up on them when things might have grown awkward or distant. And if someone, no matter how dear to you they are, wishes for you to lose touch with others (or if you realize that this is happening of its own accord), please consider this long and hard. There is probably more at stake than you realize. I submit that it is absolutely not worth it in the end if a newly found loved one imposes upon you to spend less time, or no time at all, with your previously held group of friends. I do not believe that one single romantic relationship can outshine a handful of long-held friendly ones… yet I see this time and time again and is, ultimately, one of the primary driving factors built into this writing.

Because it hurts, because there is no reason why a person can’t retain all prior friendships, even if somewhat less devotedly, after entering into a romantic one. That romance should be built into the already existing web of connections without drastically altering its structure. Otherwise one is going to come across as if those friendships were only mere placeholders for the one actual relation that was being sought after all along. And I don’t believe that anyone actually goes about their lives that way, but many seem to tend to react in such a way as if this is somehow what is “meant” to happen. I worry sometimes that societal factors have built into many peoples’ minds that that one true love romance-turned-marriage is the prime objective and all else is secondary if not spread out to the sidelines altogether. But no, with every bit of stress that I can place on a single sentence, this is not how our ongoing relationships need to play out. All of these precious eggs that have been devoted in such an interweaving mesh of interconnections have had so much care, consideration, and time built into their foundations that unimaginable havoc is bound to be wreaked upon them under such circumstances, havoc probably not even realized inside the blissful mind of the romanced party.

This isn’t always the case, of course, and I applaud all of those who manage to maintain the best combinations of relations possible. In my own experience, however, this is not often the case, and it troubles me more deeply than most things witnessed so far in my time. And I always try to tell myself that it’s merely a phase, an understandable phase where hormones and emotions run rampant, but in truth this doesn’t comfort me much because I know that by the time those emotions have settled, and someone begins to desire those friendly relations once again, they may be long gone after having moved on themselves, having exhausted their own efforts to keep that basket warm and nourishing.

I, for one, am going to always focus on distributing my own eggs as far and wide as I can manage, carefully considering those seeming to be most worthy and considerate of them, in order to enjoy as much shared fulfillment in life as I can possibly maintain. And I hope that others will do the same in return, not only for me in particular, but for everyone else striving so earnestly to connect with so many other people inhabiting this wildly complicated planet together. Each of us are all we all have to truly connect and relate with, and this should never be cast to the sidelines. Don't reinforce the eggs. They need room to grow. Reinforce the baskets, and reinforce your individual efforts to form, retain, and nurture these connections. The time we all have here together needs to be cherished with every fiber of every person's being. Every little tick of the clock occurs and is gone forever. I don't like to think of time as the means by which wounds are healed, but as the means by which they are learned to be dealt with and learned from, and maybe even simply forgotten if such is the case. Perhaps this is what some call "healing”. As long as we try hard enough, the best is yet to come.

Posted by Unknown | at 11:07 PM | 0 comments

Merging Two Worlds



 
I realized long ago that my interests, my devotions and my heart exist almost exactly in equal depth for two discrete places—Kansas City, the place I currently call home and where my family is and all of my current investments such as school and work are rooted, and Cheyenne, Wyoming, the place I used to call home and where so many of my closest friendly bonds still reside where I grew up during my most formative early teenage years. Each place has more than its own fair share of positive considerations and factors to keep each set of emotions, interests, devotions and investments powerfully tied to them. I take a lot of comfort in this, but for that reason I find myself stuck in a perpetually awkward state of longing for whichever place I’m not currently breathing in the sweet air of at each passing moment.

So there is a kind of distance which always separates me from both places simultaneously…because this distance isn’t just the obvious physical one, for however many actual miles are between myself and one of these beautiful places, that same number of miles, manifested emotionally, always works to separate me from the other. If there was some way that I could merge the two worlds, and have forever all of the cherished variables that I so long to be a part of, all of them combined in the most wonderful way, I would tear apart the fabric of space-time with my bare hands to bring them together and I don’t think I could ever ask for anything more.

There are almost 700 torturous miles separating these two worlds. And each one has its own intense well of gravity, always mercilessly tugging me away from the other. Only periodically do I get the opportunity to cut the chains keeping me rooted here in Kansas City and let myself drift that way, over to Cheyenne. The largest of these chains are those of school and work—because only with the blessing of each of these can I make time to temporarily break free from their otherwise unrelenting grip on my focus. I can always still keep in touch and communicate in ways not so different from what is usually taking place anyway, so it’s not so much a matter of separating myself from the people I’m surrounded by here as it is a matter of separating myself from the career-oriented lifestyle I’m surrounded by. And so the beautiful fairy tale setting I can’t shake from my mind (if I even wanted to) is the one in which all of the people I so often find myself dreaming about, together in equal parts both here in Kansas City and there in Cheyenne, are here with me together at once. I absolutely cannot think of a better world than one which incorporates all of the best attributes of both of these, seamlessly combined into a true fairy tale setting if there ever was one.

For obvious reasons my most immediate concerns are those of school and work, and so there really is no question about where I need to be now…at least for the time being, in this moment. And being closer to family, both immediate here in town and slightly less immediate only a couple hours away, is a very nice thing. But on the other hand, in the place that I used to call home (and still do for a fleeting two weeks out of the year), I have some of my longest and deepest-held friendships and the physical surroundings which never fail to provide intensely treasured nostalgic feelings of their own. And although this woefully short amount of time I’m able to take advantage of each year is so relatively brief, separated by about twenty-five times this amount of time, in which I must remain devoted to more productive pursuits here at “home”, all of this time and distance that seems so daunting all the while I’m away seems to just dissolve and fade away the moment I arrive and see all the familiar faces I’ve been missing for so long. And then it’s almost as if I was never even gone at all. It’s a feeling of belonging simply without compare.

If there is ever any doubt in my mind about whether I should really be utilizing my entire vacation time to travel out there and mingle into the ongoing social network, whether I’m still going to fit in and be appreciated, it is utterly demolished almost immediately as I never fail to seamlessly blend back into the scene. It's funny, sometimes, how often people are surprised that I'd take my vacations and come out here to Cheyenne time after time. "Cheyenne, of all places?!" Yes, beautiful Cheyenne, so full of all these wonderful friendships. Truth is, there's no place in the world I'd rather be when I get the chance.

I guess I could say that I’m more physically tied to my current home, and more emotionally tied to my prior home. But this is without a doubt mostly because of the simple fact that I’ve lived here for so long and have career-oriented goals that have been progressing for much of that time. I guess I could also say that my bright future (as its prospects are currently situated) lies here in Kansas City, while my longed-for past (as its prospects are currently situated, as well) lie all the way over there in Cheyenne. There are some deep considerations in this realization, because there are many important variables which are so easy to overlook if I let imagination run rampant and neglect to consider more than sheer longing for the past and what I only get to experience briefly each year.

There is something to be said, of course, of the fact that my time spent in Cheyenne each year is a worry-free vacation from my career-oriented goals and that these emotions are undoubtedly heightened by this. Admittedly, by the end of each visit there is a part of me looking forward to returning to my busy, productive routine back in Missouri. I do enjoy being busy and productive, and I always have to admit that the carefree vacation really does need to come to an end, as far as my bright future is concerned. So it’s difficult to say how things would be if the situation was reversed and I was using my vacation time each year to visit friends and family back in Missouri. I think it would be strikingly similar, in its own way—I would miss family and friends, and I would try to set aside time to come visit, and I would probably feel an intense longing for such times once I returned (to Cheyenne). But I would realize that I needed to return, because I would have a productive life to continue when my vacation time ran out. The two versions are not so different. Such is my devotion to and my connections in both places.

Perhaps the most important consideration of all is that I’m really only drawn back to Cheyenne each chance I get because of the incredible people in it. I’m not particularly drawn to the place because of the place itself—although if I happened to be passing by and absolutely none of my good friends remained, I’d probably drive through and stop at a couple familiar places at least to appreciate some nice nostalgia. But my true interests lie with the inhabitants and for this reason I need to be careful not to rely too much on these people who might not stick around themselves. I must take this fact of life for all of its implications, because when all things are considered the most important thing, besides the familiar friendly faces I definitely would like to be close to, is to be situated physically where I can make the most for myself regardless of the people that have every reason of their own to come and go (the same thing applies, of course, to Kansas City). In an ideal world I would situate myself in the best physical location and have every friendly face from anywhere I could desire forever within my reach—but such is not even remotely likely going to be the case, and this is the primary reason for my wandering mind to create and hold onto this idea which shines so brightly in its potential glory for how I could possibly have the best of all possible worlds right here in the palms of my hands, at least in my idealized daydreams.

So I always find myself torn so cleanly down the center when I consider all of the possibilities that I might have any control over establishing for myself. Kansas City has its obvious physical advantages, and of course a good many deep friendships, while Cheyenne has its unmistakable nostalgia and harbors some of the most deeply-rooted friendships of all. This is the nature of my longing to merge the two worlds, because if I could remain here in this better-situated location on the planet’s surface while still having these friends (combined with my many friends I already have over here) then I would be hard-pressed to imagine a way to be any happier with the Universe.

To anyone who knows me particularly well, or even not, it must go without saying that the primary key to the happiness found in Cheyenne is one Dave Ewaliko, with whom I’ve shared most of every single one of my most cherished memories and most deeply held thoughts. And this isn’t to discount any of the almost countless other intensely-cherished friendships I have rooted in the city (both cities). These people should know who they are. I adore every single one to the utmost of my overflowing heart.

I find it absolutely incredible how intertwined my thoughts are with a place full of people that I’ve only fleetingly kept in physical contact with over so many long years. Early on, after the intense move well over eight years ago (2004), I always comforted myself with the thoughts that the “loss” of Cheyenne, or rather, "The Motherland," as Dave and I came to refer to it, would fade away in time. And of course I was right, to a degree. But there is still somewhat more longing than I had anticipated, or at least had hoped for. I guess I always knew deep down that it was going to be a “scar” for life. It’s interesting how emotional damages can be so much more excruciating than even the most severe physical ones. In the summer of 2007 I fell off a house while working construction and broke my back... fractured my 12th lumbar vertebrate. But miraculously, I feel little pain or even anything more than occasional discomfort at this stage afterwards. The only reminder I ever have is some discomfort if I stand in one place too long, and this doesn’t happen often. It makes things like washing dishes frustrating. On the other hand, I am haunted regularly by the memories of past fortunes that were left behind once my family moved away in June 2004 and the imaginings of things that might have gone so differently had this not been the case. I do see them as wonderful memories, but even the most incredible of feelings can simultaneously bring the most intense longings. And these memories, for all the times that they bring unrivaled happiness and comfort, can sometimes revive the most tragic despair for such good times which are so long gone. Such is the double-edged blade of nostalgia.

I can say in complete honesty that the absolute best days of my mid-adolescent teenage years were spent in a two-and-a-half-year period of unrivaled bliss over in Cheyenne, namely with two incredible friends, none other than Dave Ewaliko and Cliff Cox. In those years we had conquered the world, as it had mattered to us at the time. Yet I can also say in complete honesty that the absolute best days of my elder teenage years were those I spent with my best friends I had here in KC, with Sean Lusher and Jacob Knepper and, similarly, it feels like I had conquered the world all over again with them. The value I hold to each time period is so similar in its worth that I cannot pin down a specific route that would have played out for the better if it could have been more long-lasting—if I had stayed in Cheyenne, then those mid-teenage years definitely would have culminated in ever-increasing intensity as we aged into adults, and yet those late-teenage years I spent here in KC would have had a more powerful foundation, and in turn a much more powerful transition into adulthood, if I had arrived here sooner. The dividing line is, in all practicality, because of all of the intricacies involved in each particular case, impossible to gauge effectively. The thoughtful devotion may be an obsession, but it is an obsession I passionately indulge.

Because even still every time I hear or read about issues Dave is having over there in The Motherland, I want nothing more than to just leap head-first into my car and drive nonstop all the way there, pull into his driveway, throw him into the passenger seat, and drive to Anthony's Pizza (even though it doesn't exist anymore... but any place would do). Then we could go back to his house, stopping at the Mini-Mart for 64 oz. sodas on the way, to laugh our vocal cords sore playing Fifa Soccer or Monkey Ball or watching MXC... and I know in my heart that, at least for the duration of our game-playing or TV-watching, any troubling issues would be in the back of our minds (if anywhere at all). His dad would say hi to me in his ever-soft voice as he rushes to the kitchen to cook sausages for us, his siblings Cece and Jonah would be playfully screaming and throwing each other around the house, Autumn would be laughing at it all or telling them that they're stupid, and his mom (though she has sadly passed on since such memories were so deeply rooted) would be sitting on the couch, telling me about how “special” I am. How special is it when a few experiences easily recalled into memory can rival, or even surpass, the most impressive dream?

They say that home is where the heart is, and I say that if home is where the heart is then there is not a single homeless person in the world. But some people might be unfortunately misplaced.

Long ago, Dave and I came up with a semi-serious pact that when we're wrinkly old geezers assigned to wheelchairs we'll still be sitting out on our neighboring porches (because we will be next-door neighbors), chatting about all the insanity we lived through and all the girls we chased, cherish and loved. It sticks with me, in part because I truly want this to happen. In a way I can precisely imagine the two of us, sitting side-by-side in our rickety old rocking chairs, cracking jokes and reminiscing about all the good times (most of which are yet to come), cracking the same old jokes, Dave bursting out in his oh-so-characteristic hearty laugh (although the years will have taken their toll on it), and just simply enjoying truly cooperative company with each other as a gorgeous Vanilla Sky makes its complex interactions over the horizon.

Everybody has forever to look forward to. Life is absolutely not short, it is the longest thing possible to experience and because we have absolute control over our investments within it I feel it is of the most profound importance that we pursue those things most cherished to us. Because forever is so much more than just a word… forever is the amount of your life that you'll always know you have all such people in your life. And even when they're not around you anymore, or very fleetingly so, as unfortunate as that is, there are still so many ways to talk with them, and even visit whenever possible. Distance plays its unfortunate role in so many cases between people who would otherwise enjoy nothing more than being in each other’s company, but at the same time this same distance can help to strengthen and filter out everything but the most cherished connections of all. And you will know you have one of those true and long-lasting friendships when you can show up on their doorstep after absolutely any amount of time and distance and within mere moments all of the most deep and cherished feelings of all come flooding back as if a tidal wave was unleashed from the deepest depths of the ocean. And you'll know when that term "forever" is to the fullest extent when you see such a person after so much time has passed, and you’ve each pursued such separate paths, and yet each time your paths cross once again it seems exactly like there was no time passed at all.

It may be a fanciful daydream to imagine myself having the best of both of these worlds combined, but if nothing else at least I can collide and merge them within in my own mind, and imagine how wonderful things would be if I had all variables in my grasp at all times. But of course I cannot physically have this fortune. I can, however, relish in all the bountiful memories each holds, and pursue with the best of my abilities all of the time that I can spare to continue to make the best of each, as separately as they must be, and as intertwined as they can be, because I have the power to make it so as often as I can manage.

And so I am somewhat distanced from my current home, here in Kansas City, emotionally, and from my long-lost home, there in Cheyenne, physically. But life is complicated, circumstances are complicated, cooperation is complicated, and my deepest desires are perhaps most complicated of all. So if I seem a little bit distant at any point in time, to anyone from either location, please understand that as much as I’d love more than anything to be there sharing time and memories, old and new, with you, I might seem a bit distant only because I am.

Posted by Unknown | at 7:06 PM | 1 comments

Separated By Oceans



Well these bottles look nice, and cold, and fulfilling
So I wander outside to relax by just sitting
And the darkness descending, it seems sort of fitting
As the sun makes its way out of the bright sky
Kind of like you did when you said goodbye…

As I drain down the first, I feel less afraid
And my thoughts turn to all of those memories we made
So many have not even begun to fade
Your face, and your voice; your laugh, and your touch
I never imagined I could miss them so much…

I had everything resting right there in my hand
But it slipped through my fingers like such fine grains of sand
Ever since I’ve been so lost, stumbling through this wasteland
I can’t even remember why we said goodbye
Sometimes the most beautiful fairy tale goes awry…

As I savor the first few, I explore the vast flow
Of these feelings which seem now to lessen the blow
But I can’t ever relinquish the reality I know
We were beautiful, we conquered, we realized the cost
Yet we fumbled it, somehow, and tripped as it tossed…

It’s getting real dark now, and I can’t fight this worry
As the stars start to shine in all of their glory
For each one’s a memory, a deep-rooted story
I could assign every one, and not even start
To dip into the contents leaking from my heart…

Now I notice some storm clouds coming from the west
As I finish the first half and long for the rest
And remember the feelings never quite expressed
When all of our love was at its most fragile and bare
If only I’d realized the prime time to share…

How could such beauty be left by the side?
Why would we let it escape us with pride?
I don’t even know how many times that I’ve cried
So crazy how all of the words worth the most
Can just linger unspoken and fade like a ghost…

It’s starting to rain now, as my head feels the beers
But I’ll just stay here and reminisce all those good years
At least no one who passes will notice these tears
But I can’t say the same of this pain I still feel
I guess there are some wounds even time will not heal…

Well these bottles are empty; the clouds are still pouring
My poor head is spinning and my sad thoughts are roaring
I can’t say I really look forward to morning
Another long day I’ll spend just going through motions
Through this loneliness now separated by oceans…

Posted by Unknown | at 4:43 AM | 3 comments

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