When your life isn't moving forward in certain ways, or at least not in the ways you had planned, you start to question a lot.
You don't move on because you want to. You move on because you have to. Moving on is not the same as getting over.
The truth of the situation is that whenever fantasy and reality intersect, the end result is almost never positive. Fantasy is fantasy for a reason. When the allure and the novelty wear off, you come crashing back down to a fucked up situation in which the only solution is to stop doing what you've been doing. And for somebody, that means they're going to get hurt really fucking bad. Maybe you're naive or maybe you're in love or maybe they're one in the same and you can only begin to differentiate between the two after the debris has been cleared and the dust has finally settled. There isn't much left for you to do other than pull yourself together the best you can and hope that some moment of enlightenment hits you and you can start to begin to understand why it all happened the way that it did. It won't necessarily make things better automatically, but the insight you will (hopefully) gain from such realizations will help you to recognize how you got to the low point in which you've found yourself.
When people fuck things up, they often do not have the burden of being in a position of self analysis. You have an opportunity to grow. They will carry being how they were and ultimately learn that all things do eventually catch up to you regardless of how fast you think you are running from them or how skillful you believe you are at hiding from them. It'll happen. You've been painted out of the picture, so it won't directly impact your life, but maybe it'll make you feel better knowing that it is bound to happen.
People are terrible to one another. They are vicious and they are selfish and they are fucking weak.
This doesn't mean you have to be terrible as well. To them, or to yourself. If you choose to endure and overcome a complicated or painful situation, you will ultimately end up as a better person. If you choose to ignore it or to remain trapped, you will end up an emotional catastrophe and your issues will fester until you hate who you've become.
There are good people left in the world. They are few and far between. They are scattered and strewn about in a haphazard way. You will never meet most of them. You will get to know even fewer of them. For the ones that you do find, give them everything you have. Don't think twice. Don't think about how it could end. Put yourself out there and gain as much as you possibly can, while you can.
And then it will end. And then you will do what you have to do to survive until you encounter another one of these long lost creatures. These hidden dinosaurs. Rare and beautiful and the most endangered of a species.
There are good people left in the world. You probably won't find them.
It usually goes without saying that heartache is a cure for writer's block. You may not enjoy or like what you have to write, but the words are there and they flow with an ease that rarely exists during times of contentment. There is a reason why the world's most brilliant writers have commonly been completely miserable for extended periods of their life. I suppose there are pros and cons to this situation.
There are some things which you cannot prepare for. All you can do is wait, face it, and eventually find some sort of acceptance. Accepting a hardship isn't even that difficult. It's rather simple, actually. Once the dynamic has changed, when that phone has hung up and that person has left, you begin to accept it. You do not communicate with them. You occupy your time to fill your mind with thoughts that do not involve them. Your existence is now neatly organized into Life Before/Life During/Life After. You don't have to fucking do anything to "accept" the situation. It's being okay with this change that is difficult, and it is equally problematic because you're not really supposed to be okay with it. It is a big fucking deal. It has been months or years or whatever and that constant is now gone. It would be more alarming if you were not upset over the sudden change. What do you do? Who are you now? The Life After category is a fucking miserable place to be.
At the end of the day I find myself missing the little things that maybe I didn't think too much of as they were happening, but as soon as they disappeared, well, they cease to be little things at that point. The little things become much larger things, and they eat away at you and make you question everything that you are doing or could have done and it still, nothing changes. You keep feeling terrible because that phone still doesn't ring, and you keep feeling terrible because you can't really make anybody do anything regardless of how much you believe it could fix your life or theirs, or what is right or what is wrong. Life does not work that way.
They say that it takes time. People say a lot of things. It'll get better. Stay positive. You'll be okay. You'll be okay. Yeah.
It is a profound and overwhelming heartbreak.
And I feel like I am sleepwalking through the days.
I thought to myself of all the times I had felt like there would be no getting over it. As if that was the end and I couldn't begin to put together any sort of coherent path to recovery. You feel as if this one is different. Maybe it is. Maybe it is not. There's no telling. As you get older, regardless of how much you have learned and how much wisdom you have gained, some things do not get easier and some thing do not feel any less painful.
It takes time. That's really all we have.
You get to a point where it seems hopeless. You've had the foundation kicked out from under you. What can you do? Control what you can. The rest is a whirlwind, but you can only do so much. You can't keep killing yourself to try to make a situation work. Relationships take time, effort, work, all of these things. All of those elements are required in ways you can't even imagine until you're staring the issue directly in the face. You go with it. You struggle. You adapt. But you might get to a point where one person is doing much more than the other. It's supposed to be about helping each other, not avoiding each other. Not trying to see what you can get out of it. Not shrugging something off because it's inconvenient. You share the responsibility and you fight the burden together.
As an individual, you can only do so much. You can't just change somebody to be the ideal person that you've pictured them as for so long. Sure, things can change, but it's difficult for a reason. Meaningful things aren't meant to be easy or simple, and that's why it fucking sucks when it falls apart. If somebody doesn't want it as bad as you, then you are fighting a losing battle. It is a war you cannot win.
Do what you can, and do your best. At times it'll feel like hell, but if you truly follow what you believe in and what you feel, then you can't have that taken away from you. It won't fix everything, but you'll have that small shred of comfort. It wasn't you. You gave all you could. That's what it's really all about, that's the whole point of these things. Giving all that you can to somebody that you care about. That's love. It doesn't always balance out perfectly and there isn't always a happy ending. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be. Move on. Move forward.
And yet, there will be people who make such an impact on you, that you wonder if there really ever is any getting over them. Perhaps there will always be some fragment of them lodged in your heart. Some kind of memory or moment or a place in time that becomes a part of you. Maybe it's always there and you just learn to ignore it. Maybe it heals. I don't know. I hope that you find whatever it is that you need. You are loved and you are missed.
They tell me I am young, even though I do not feel that way. I don't know how it ends, I just know how I feel.
You are left alone at night to stare at your ceiling with nothing but a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach and a mind full of doubt that you will ever experience a spark that intense, ever again. Loving someone isn't easy. I do not think I would want it to be. Sparks fade.
I had written a few paragraphs about getting older and thinking about some events that took place a long time ago. I deleted most of it.
I don't live in the past. People talk about moving on, getting over, forgetting. There are a lot of things I don't want to forget. I don't want these memories to weigh me down and be a drag on my present life, but I feel they are important to hang onto. There is no time period in a person's life more existentially frustrating than that of the mid-twenties. The years between 22 and 30 are a fucking blur of overwhelming situations coupled with a lingering feeling of perpetual nothingness that begs the question, "What in the fuck am I doing?"
But, life goes on. You are who you are now because of who you were then.
I don't live in the past. But I think there will always be a part of me that misses the nights where the only thing that was important was being able to sing the songs I loved as loud as I could with the friends I loved even more. Music is incredibly important to me when it comes to the people I choose to involve myself with, in any sense of a relationship. It's such an important part of my life that I sincerely feel if another person cannot understand that attachment that I have to music, then they cannot understand me, so any form of companionship between the two of us is pointless.
I've had a few moments, like those nights, since those years a long time ago. As rare as they might be, I've had them, and they do still exist.
And when they do, it is overwhelming in the best way possible. It's a connection that means more to me than almost anything else. I've still got that little spark inside of me that tells me, hey, man, it's still there, you can still get what you've always wanted. It's not that difficult. It is not impossible.
It's not how I expected it to be, but life rarely goes as you plan. You can set a goal, be it for tomorrow or for ten years from now, and it can all still change faster than you can piece it back together. I suppose it is how you adapt that determines your fate. You can let something consume you and hold you down, or you can move forward with your life.
I'm not an optimist by any means, don't get me wrong. It's just that I know what I want, and I'm fucking tired of people wasting my time (and theirs) because they don't. Or because they're scared. Or because it's easier to do nothing. Guess what? The world doesn't give a shit if you're scared. Time will not stand still for you. You don't get stronger by giving up. You don't learn from constant avoidance. If you aren't willing to take a risk or make some sacrifice, then don't expect a fucking thing from anyone else. That's not how it works, because it doesn't fucking work at all.
There's one conversation that stands out in my mind, and why exactly, I don't even fucking know. Maybe it was the desperation in your voice. Maybe it was the fact that regardless of how shitty you felt, you still didn't change. Maybe I was just pathetic for still wanting so badly to try.
"I haven't done this before. Having to lose somebody that's such a good friend, that's my best friend, and also my boyfriend."
You didn't have to. You chose to.
You didn't lose him. You left him.
According to the DSM-IV, for each year invested in a relationship, it takes approximately one to to months to recover from the point at which the relationship ends.
I suppose I shouldn't expect so much, so soon. Even from myself. But, expectations are worthless, remember? What happens is what matters. Not some glorified hope or wish of how it should be. Wishes are a fucking joke, man. Wishes are a fucking waste of time. Wishes are for people that will inevitably look back on their life with a remarkable amount of regret because in the moment, they couldn't do what they really needed to. We all have our faults. That does not mean we are lost causes.
I've been trying not to think about it lately. It doesn't really work. To be honest, it doesn't work at all.
I had pages and pages written and I threw it all away. All of these fucking inventions, these devices that have been created to make us "happier." These concepts to make life easier. We've been duped. People are farther apart than ever before. We've discovered a new way of how to miss and want something or somebody, to such dramatic lengths that previous generations could not even begin to comprehend what has happened. This fucking Golden Age. Who are we kidding. Who are you kidding.
You get older and that feeling in your stomach comes and goes. The worst things you can imagine. Sometimes they do actually happen.
And you just lay there at night. What else can you do?
The minutes the hours the days pass by and you're just laying in that bed and you wonder if that feeling is ever going to come back.
You could build the most beautiful city.
But what good is it?
If nobody lives there.
And that friend of mine, one of the few that's still there for some reason, after everything that has happened. I can still hear her telling me, "If it's really working out, then today is the last day you will cry."
Sometimes the thing you most want doesn't work out. Sometimes the thing you never expect to happen does.
You have to convince yourself it gets better. I don't know how you do it. I really don't. I'm not in a good place right now. I don't know how I'm going to convince myself of that to the point where I really fucking feel it and believe it. Maybe it's just instinct. Some fucked up sense of survival that kicks in even when the house of cards is falling to pieces. I don't have the answers, man. I just know I have to convince myself somehow. I know what I want. I thought I had it. I thought I knew how to keep it. I don't know anything anymore. I don't know a fucking thing.
I was told that if you fight for what you love and if you stay true to what you believe in, you'll get what you want. Part of me wants to believe that. The other part has been shown so many examples of that just not working out. Why do people try so hard to ignore how they feel? How come it's so easy for people to just give up? Why is everyone so god damn scared?
This hurts. I don't want to give up. But God, it hurts.
Hear me, my chiefs. I am tired. My heart is sick and sad.
From where the sun now stands, I will fight no more forever.
To find a person that is as excited to talk to you, as you are to talk to them.
Or to want to hear a kind word when you aren't in a particularly good place. Some sort of reassurance from somebody whose opinion you really care about. Any glimmer of hope that even if it doesn't feel okay at the moment, that hey, it's still going to be okay. Don't let it get to you so much. It's going to get better, trust me.
I miss that feeling of knowing I have somebody that's willing to risk just as much as I am. Not only believing the words they tell you, but really feeling them. It's a certain kind of trust that doesn't come around often. It's something that you miss like hell when you realize it's no longer there. I miss that feeling of really believing, in spite of overwhelming doubt and frustration and nervousness, that the big picture is going to work out because you have this person by your side. Hey. It's okay. These things will pass. I have you. It will get better. It has to. I have you.
I really fucking miss that. I got used to it, but I never took it for granted. I knew what I had was important.
You can't just love somebody when it's convenient. That isn't love. That's an excuse. Loving somebody is hard because it's a constant. You can't pick and choose when to turn it on or off if the situation becomes problematic. You can't conduct a relationship based on that sort of thinking. Stop thinking. Go with your feelings. They are there for a reason. People think too much when they shouldn't, and not enough when they should. Loving somebody is accepting and understanding the situation you have facing the two of you, whatever it may be, and knowing that regardless of the outcome or how difficult it might get in the meantime, you need this person, and they need you just as badly. You give up a little part of yourself, you carry that burden, you accept the responsibility, you make that sacrifice.
In the end, all those things are trivial. They're just technicalities. Yeah, it gets fucking hard because that's how these things go. Life is hard. The more meaningful something is, the harder it will be to deal with. In the end, it's a matter of realizing that this person makes all of those technicalities worth it, and that having them in your life is a far better option than saying goodbye and leaving them behind. I would rather fight for something I love than take the easy way out and live a life of wondering what could have been.
You do what you can with the opportunities you are given.
I thought about the times I had made mistakes. Times I had been forgiven. A second chance granted, even if I did not feel I was deserving of such a thing. Even if I could not understand why this person was willing to do such a thing for me. I would not be where I am, or who I am, had those people not been compassionate enough to care for me in spite of my faults. That is love. That is understanding.
It is another one of the hard lessons you learn growing up. It doesn't fix everything, it doesn't make it okay, it's not an excuse. But you have to take the value of a person and your relationship with them and weigh it against the alternative you are facing. Do you take a deep breath and accept the pain? Do you try to grow from it and not give up, on yourself, on the other person, on the situation you've found yourselves in? Or do you let that sinking feeling in your stomach spread to the rest of your body until it settles into a corner of your mind that you may or may not ever be able to remove it from.
You have a choice. You won't always know which way to go right away. Life is not that linear. The answers are not as obvious as we would like them to be. There is no Star of Bethlehem for us to navigate our way in the darkness. I wish there was. I do. I really do.
I'm trying to be a better person. In as many parts of my life as I can. It is not the easiest thing to do, it never has been, and it never will be. The more difficult a scenario you face, the more meaningful it is. You become confused because you want something, but are not sure of how best to go about obtaining it. You are scared because you do not want to lose something, and that fear can be paralyzing, but do you want to look into the mirror at yourself or into the dark ceiling when it's just you and say you let the fear win? You know what you want. You can answer that question. The "what if's" and "I'm not sure's" and "I don't know's" have to be pushed to the side at some point.
The conversation toes the line of heartbreak.
"You know it's not the same. There aren't many people like you."
I try to believe this, as I believe her sincerity, but words that do not match actions are frustrating in themselves. It isn't progress. If you believe this, if this is how you feel, why are things how they are? Why is it not changing? How is this okay?
She says that she feels like a lost cause.
I don't believe in lost causes.
Because I used to fucking be one. Used to.
It only gets better if you're willing to stare it in the face, no matter how afraid you might be. And you let it know you will not let it win.
Look behind you. Look at the things you have done. Your accomplishments. Your successes in spite of defeat. Everything you have done regardless of whether or not you believed you could. Everything you have done even though they told you that you wouldn't be able to. You are building a legacy. You are writing a story.
Whether you realize it, or not.
Make it something with heart. Make it something you are fucking proud of. Make it something worth reading.
And this other girl.
Somebody who has been a constant for me. Somebody I honestly don't know how to repay for all the times she's been there for me when I had nobody else. She answers the phone when I barely have the ability to form coherent words.
She tells me, "If it's really working out, then today is the last day that you will cry."
I know she is right. It is not easy to accept, given my tradition of breaking myself to fix someone else, but I know she is right. You can fight with a person and you can fight with yourself until it turns into a catastrophe of frustration and a wreckage of a relationship that you'll never know what could have been because you didn't give it the chance you should have or because you let that fear take over your train of thought. I don't want to look back at any point in my life and feel those things, ever again. I lost too much time. I lost time I can't get back. I think about what would be different if people weren't scared, or at least scared to the point of freezing. If people followed through focusing only on what they wanted, not what could go wrong. If they really understood how little time we actually have here. I think about these things, and I wait for the brief and wonderful moments in which they actually come to life make themselves known.
I know what I want, and I know I will struggle, and I know it might hurt at times, but man, I tell you. After everything I've been through and all the times I didn't think I could make it, I did. I've made it farther than I ever thought I would, and I'm still going.
Hope isn't something you find. It finds you.
You'll know it. When you feel it. Then it's up to you to make something of it. Hope, it's just a spark. A catalyst. Once you get that, the rest is in your hands. It's your turn.
Keep waiting for that yellow bird to land on your windowsill. He's out there, he's on the way. He'll show up, eventually, if he hasn't already. Maybe you just haven't noticed. Maybe you've been looking too hard, or maybe you haven't been looking at all. Maybe you've been too busy or distracted in the meantime. Don't miss it. They don't always come back.
You'll see him when you aren't even looking. You'll see him when you don't even expect it.
She asks me about some past relationships. Short answers. I try not to think of these things. They've been etched deep, but for the most part I'm consciously able to avoid recollections of past affairs. It's usually a nightmare, a smell, a place, a song, a book that triggers something subconsciously. Other times it's just words that might have been said by another person at another time. I'm thrown into a flashback. I get the sinking feeling in my stomach and the ice in my veins even if there's no reason to feel so. Perhaps some things are just ingrained in you too deep to ever really forget. When do you know when you're really over it? Maybe there really is no Eternal Sunshine. Maybe you don't get over it. Maybe you can't. Maybe you're not supposed to.
And she tells me she's not happy, and she tells me why. I think to myself, this could be worse. This has been worse. This is worse. It might not be good for her, but maybe she doesn't know what the opposite end of the spectrum is like. She could be taking things for granted. Everyone does. You get used to it. It becomes routine. You settle for things you shouldn't and you don't thing about the big picture. The long term. If you complain about not being happy, but aren't taking all the steps you could to actually obtain that happiness, then what are you doing at all? You're only wasting your own time. Just stop. It's not easy and it's not supposed to be. But do something. Otherwise just let go.
You might feel like history is doomed to repeat itself. You'll never get what you want. You never have, you never will. Maybe what you wanted wasn't what you needed. Just because it didn't work out before doesn't mean it won't work out this time. Or the next time. Or the next. The sun used to be the center of the universe, you know. Ask Nicolaus how that turned out.
Eventually you get to a point where you have to focus on yourself and new opportunities. New faces. New places. Living in a world of "what could have been's" and "maybe this time around's" gets you nowhere. You've got your whole life and it could end tomorrow. Stop wasting it. I'd prefer to focus on myself than deal with the problems created by other people.
If you are living scared, then you are not really living. Trust me on this one.
And she asks why I don't write anymore and everyone asks why I don't write anymore. And I say I won't write about not being able to write, and I won't, because that's redundant and useless. It's pathetic. It's self serving and it's self destructive. She asks why it's been so long. What's changed? Everything has changed. What hasn't changed? You know why I haven't written? I haven't felt it. It hasn't been there. I haven't felt that fire, that burn, that need to get it all out into word for people to say Oh he's such a great writer and for the people to say Oh he's the cause of all his own problems and he should shut up and do something with his life. For all I know both crowds are completely right and completely wrong.
I tell her that it hasn't been there lately, at least not like it was. Maybe she understands, maybe she doesn't. Then I tell her, it hasn't been there lately, but it's still there, somewhere. Wherever it hides, takes time off.
It doesn't ever really go away. And I'm sorry, but you either have it or you don't. There might be phases of how much or when, but it's still there. You don't lose it. You might lose your mind. You might lose your friends. Some money. A girl. It'll find you again. If you're one of the blessed, the cursed, the chosen, the fortunate, or the unfortunate that have this in whatever sense of having it you may, it is up to you to figure out what to do with it before it is just too fucking late. You missed your chance kid. You blew it.
"there are worse things than
but it often takes decades
to realize this
and most often
when you do
it's too late
and there's nothing worse
You don't lose the fire. You burn out before it does. The fire does what it always has. Grows, inspires, amazes, consumes.
I still have that bracelet that you made for me, you know. I wear it on special occasions. Days that pulling myself from the mismatched pillows and blankets of my bed seems like too much of a chore. Days where there's something important happening, days where I worry a little more than I usually do. A big test. A doctor's appointment. Things like that. I'd say it's something like a good luck charm, as close as it could be to one given that I don't really believe in luck.
Maybe it doesn't always work, but it's still there on my wrist regardless. Even if the day doesn't turn out as well as I had hoped, or if an exam goes so poorly it makes me question the future of my career, I've still got that little reminder of something that was good. God damn, things were good. It's a memory I can take with me. It's a part of you that I still have, when I am still at a point in my life where I feel as if I don't have as much as I want, or as much as I deserve.
I would say that the morning is too early for thoughts like these. But that would be wrong.
I would say that I miss you. But it doesn't matter. There are too many technicalities when it comes to missing somebody.
I do not know why the sparks inside of my brain told me that I needed to write something about you this morning. I do not know why I felt like I needed to wear your bracelet.
With open windows and the cold of Autumn flowing through the room, you lay in your bed, music mixing with frosty air as your eyes grow heavy. A voice in your head, a whisper in your ear, a thought in your mind, a memory from too long ago, and yet you know for some reason it will never leave the crevices and cracks that your 20 something year old brain has had carved out by a river of seemingly nonsensical emotions and tragedies and late night conversations that got you nowhere.
A long time ago, you had this feeling in your heart. And you don't know where it went or why it went but it's gone man it's just gone.
Have you noticed how fast love seems to happen, but how long it takes for the aftermath to wear off? You can't just wash it out. It fades, and it fades so fucking slowly you don't even know what to do with yourself. Give me my poetry and give me my pills. At least these still stir some sort of feeling within me. At least they make me feel something.
It's not that I'm afraid of being happy. It's that I just don't really know how to function when things aren't completely catastrophic.
I haven't done it in years. It's what I'm used to. It's the complete opposite of what other people need. And I know that. But I can't just flip a switch and be okay, I can't wake up one day and be how I'd like. It's complicated, it's so complicated you have no fucking idea. It's fucked up a lot of things before. Good things, really good things.
"What are you looking for in a relationship?"
"Basically somebody who can stand to be with me, I guess."
It's a funny feeling, and it's a sad, sad feeling, when you know all of the answers for how to fix other people, whether you want to fix them or not. But when it comes to yourself, you can't do a god damn thing. Or at least you can't do it on your own.
Nobody should have to do it on their own.
if it's not real
you can't hold it in your hand
you can't feel it with your heart
and I won't believe it
but if it's true
you can see it with your eyes
oh, even in the dark
and that's where I want to be
An old friend once told me, "Life is interesting." A simple statement, but obviously, he was right, it is.
It was the rainiest of days. I had never seen the cars in this town pull over for a rainstorm; it was something fierce. It's too small a town for that. You're only going 15 miles per hour anyways. We still couldn't see a thing.
It was the night before he left for school, so we wanted to do something, anything, regardless of how predictable or ordinary it was. He deserved a sendoff. After being there all those years, he was finally moving on to something and someplace better. And I felt sad for losing the one person who had never let me down, but I knew I wasn't really losing him, it was just a change. Everything changes, it's just that sometimes you know the date when that change is going to occur. You are given the time to check your list and say your goodbyes and try to make yourself okay. Most of the time you don't get that chance.
No big deal, I thought. We pulled over into a side parking lot outside what is now some sort of house of worship. I think it's funny how when I was a kid this was a steakhouse. Then another church. After that, simply abandoned. Just a shack. Now once again a church, a place where people come to put their souls at ease. Juxtaposed one hundred feet from a recently remodeled Pizza Hut.
I couldn't believe how fucking hard the rain was. It was nice though, in a sense, to be trapped there in the rain. We had a few moments to talk, just about nothing, in the middle of a monsoon in the most random of places. These past few years we've learned to appreciate the rain in Georgia. Some complain about their shoes, or their hair, or the fact that they can't find a parking spot one space closer than where they usually would have put their car normally. We don't do that as much here nowadays.
We got back on the highway, headed to our usual spot, to order our usual food, and see the usual people, most of which we didn't care to see. We would play the part, fake the smile, and just go on. Because that's what people do. And because most of the time, it doesn't matter. Most people mean nothing to each other, and that's fine. They aren't meant to. Some people need to be loved by everyone, and some need to give as much love as they can. Some people keep to themselves and they have no concept at all of what love is, or what it isn't, or anything else in between. Some are okay like that, and some are anything but okay.
The first car was embedded in the side of the hill. It didn't look terrible, it was hard to tell with the rain and the fog and the curve. It seemed to just be a car that had slid off the highway and into a ditch. Happens all the time. My eyes shifted ahead and then I saw the other car. We stopped right next to it. Traffic was going nowhere. This had just happened. It was raining harder again and I could see people standing around this car. I could see the man in the drivers seat the front end and roof of his vehicle crushed, and a man in a military uniform trying to pull him out, or trying to talk to him, trying to do something. We thought about getting out, but realized we would only get in the way. We are not professionals.
A man had stopped to help the person in the car that had slid off the road. The rain got worse. We were a minute, maybe less behind the point of contact. He went to check on the driver. Why? Because he needed to know they were okay. The car that was now upside down probably never saw him. Even if it did, physics had taken over and what was going to happen was going to happen. Maybe this was meant to be. The car hydroplaned and the man was hit. He may have never seen the car that may have never seen him. He ended up a fair distance from where the vehicle now laid, upside down and crushed in on itself.
He had gone to help the other driver, and he was killed instantly. The driver was fine for the most part, physically at least. There were no paramedics and there were no police officers. This was not an accident scene. This was life unfolding, and this was life ending.
It was just the few people standing there, the person in the uniform trying to talk to the driver trapped in the car, my friend and I sitting in the rain an arms length away from it all, and it was a man, dead or dying in the grass or on the shoulder of the road. I can't remember seeing the body, and perhaps I didn't see it at all. How I could have missed it, I don't know. The rain, the mist, the people, maybe my mind just wouldn't let me process it and I simply can't remember it now. But he was there, and he died. He was coming home from work, and he tried to do something good for someone. And he fucking died next to that river bank.
I know a lot of people right now dealing with things that are terrible. I feel horrible for them, truly. Not only because of their situations, but because I feel helpless for them, and to me that's even worse. The inability to do something for somebody you care about is one of the worst feelings you will ever experience. And you've more than likely been there. And you'll realize, it wasn't just because of what was happening to this person, it was because it was completely beyond your fucking control. You were insignificant, regardless of how much you loved this person, or how much you wanted to make things better for them. In that moment, in the grand scheme of things, you are reduced to nothingness.
It was pouring rain, and he never made it home. And people's lives were changed in that single moment. It was cold. It was miserable. It was over.
Do you ever feel like the rain is never going to stop? Maybe it's come and gone, or maybe it's something new you've found yourself stuck in, and you happened to forget your umbrella. Or maybe you've walked 20 something fucking years in a downpour.
It doesn't matter. You keep going.
You feel like you're stuck, and you feel like things will never get better. It's hopeless you say. It's a lost cause. And I know the rain is awful, I'd be lying if I said otherwise. You get used to it, and eventually it just gets into your skin, and your head, and it's all you fucking know. But that's not how you should feel. It's just that nobody has ever taken the time, or cared enough, to show you otherwise. You might not have ever had a reason to think otherwise. If you're conditioned long enough, or told something so many times, eventually you will believe it.
It doesn't matter. The rain. It doesn't matter. The rain is nothing. You are stronger than that and you deserve better than that. Fuck anyone who ever tells you otherwise. They are the reason for your rain, and all you have to do is keep walking.
Do something good for somebody. Be there for them. It's going to be difficult, but I'm god damn tired of seeing people give up on each other just because it's the easy thing to do. You don't have to care about or love everyone, but those that you do, pour your fucking soul into them. Nothing less, ever. You don't get a re-do. You don't know what comes next. Why waste an opportunity? Why not help somebody? Please, don't take the easy way out. Stay with that person until it stops raining. People were meant for other people, and there's too much heartache and sadness out there to waste opportunities to do something that makes a real difference.
And the rain, as awful as it is, it doesn't define you if you don't let it. In the end, your problems and pains are not what matter.
An old friend once told me, "What matters most is how well you walk through the fire."
And he was right. He was always right. He is always right.