The truth is: I miss her.
And not because of who she was, or what was said, or what we did, or where we went…
But how I felt when I was with her. How I felt when we were together. No me, no her, no world, no reason…just a moment in time.
I felt home.
It started with sadness and pain and progressed into anger. Then resentment.
For a minute, I was mad at her. Then, I got mad at myself. Frustrated at how I felt, how an emotional attachment was formed against my own best efforts.
I felt like I had failed.
I was powerless over my emotions and I dumped them on her.
I think about that phone call, the last time we spoke, and I’m ashamed. Embarrassed. I forgot myself, I forgot what I knew to be true…
That no one can fix me. No one can solve my own insecurities. My own fears.
If I’ve got issues, I’ve gotta be the one to take care of them. No one can do it for me.
I want to forgive myself, but it’s tough.
I’ve had friends tell me that it’s not a big deal. I had a human moment. I broke, cracked, and if she really cared, she’d have worked through it with me.
Maybe they’re right, but I don’t believe it.
The phone call had nothing to do with her and everything to do with me.
I told her that I needed her to see me. To really “see” me. Looking back, I don’t know what I wanted her to understand, what I wanted her to see…
All I know is that it was all about me.
However my mind had been trained needed to be unraveled, and it took a shock.
Time continues to turn and moments are made to help us move on.
There’s pain, there’s sadness, there’s anger and fear. There’s relief. Friends and music and movies. Words and experience. Perspectives of people who have felt things they couldn’t understand and made stuff.
I think about that song “Madness” by Muse. I never understood it. Now, I do.
Pretty much every single Coldplay song. I get it now. I understand.
And it feels like I finally see something new, but it has nothing to do with me, and everything to do with you.
Sharing moments and experience, relating on the struggle, creating happiness through camaraderie.
It’s helping a friend clean out his brothers room. It’s sitting on the deck where they used to smoke cigarettes, listen to O.A.R., and talk about life.
It’s lighting one of the cigarettes he left behind and listening, feeling his spirit, his memory, as I get to know a guy I wish I could have met.
It’s looking out into the woods and up at the sky, feeling the moment as a thought bubbles to surface:
“We should go to the desert, throw some jams on, and dance under the stars.”
M83 plays in the background and he smiles. He agrees. And I believe.
We’re gonna go to the desert, throw some jams on, and dance under the stars.
It took awhile but I made it back. I made it here.
And it was people. It was care and love and work. Being honest and listening. Being willing to change. To do things that are uncomfortable. To recognize how I’m thinking and change it, redirect my actions.
It’s a lot of breathing. Settling in the moment and focusing on my breath.
It’s waking up to birds chirping and the sun rising. It’s pulling a deep breathe in and letting all of the thoughts and feelings flow through the top of my head and into the sky.
It’s reading Bruce Lee philosophy and flowing like water. It’s discipline and patience and perseverance. It’s training my mind to embody emptiness so it will adapt to its environment.
To be spontaneous, fluid with movement. To express ones self honestly.
To sit back and write it out. To sit alone and finally realize:
I can forgive myself.
And it feels like home.