Sunday, November 29, 2015

Pain in unnecessary measures

Why do the dumb things hurt?

There are certain things this holiday that I don't mind being injured by. I feel as though if I am properly slighted, I have the right to be offended. For instance, my parents planning a holiday getaway and ignoring the fact that I (again, for the 30th consecutive year) have a birthday right after Christmas. It really is the worst time to have a birthday, but it is not my fault. And I've heard my parents brag about how they always made it a point to make my birthday "special" and separate from Christmas.

Bullshit. I told my family what my plans for my birthday were several months in advance, and suddenly in late November they decided that to celebrate the biggest birthday of my life so far, we should go see some lights. What? I understand we're poor, but to not even suggest doing a dinner is going too far. And I understand that going to see Trans-Siberian Orchestra (something I've wanted to do for years; and they're always in Ohio near my birthday) isn't super cheap, but I told them in August that that was what I wanted to do. "Well, we are planning to go to South Carolina after Christmas" oh, thanks for the heads up there. "Well, owning a house is more expensive than renting was the past few years" no kidding? Did I not mention that when you just went and purchased a crappy house without even scouting the market?

Yes. I am frustrated. And my mother didn't seem to understand why I got so mad. It's like last year, where my parents bragged about how they always buy us kids a birthday dinner, conveniently forgetting that they made my pay my own way THAT PREVIOUS YEAR, a transaction that caused me to overdraft my bank account. "Oh, we didn't realize..." well that's awfully convenient. It's not like I'm your first-born, only son or anything.

Anyways, I feel as though I have plenty of justification to be upset about that. And they wonder why I don't want to spend time with them every single week or something. I can't even apologize for it, because I'm not sorry. But I'm off topic of what I wanted to write about, so let's get back on track.

(although, on a side note, Reesey's family was exceptionally kind to me over Thanksgiving and her mother even begged me to come over and spend more time with them, which is in direct contrast to what R told me about them not wanting me to come over...)

Last night, I was hanging out with one of my closest friends. A guy I had known for many years and we had spent many good evenings just chatting about life and other things. One of the closer friends I had through ACA and the CBJ. Someone who I absolutely considered a brother and a great friend. He came to the bar to watch the game and brought his new girlfriend with him. It was nice to see him and nice to not be the only person I wanted to hang out with at the bar.

I'm not even sure about how the conversation got around to it, but he was telling her a story about "close friends" and I butted something in about myself and he goes "well, we aren't that close of friends..."

I was shocked.  This was someone who I had invited into my house and my parents house and made to be a part of the family. This was someone who I had always tried to spend good amounts of time with, and someone who I had had many great spiritual and philosophical conversations with. But apparently we weren't close? I don't know. It wasn't even how he worded it, because he justified it while I stared in disbelief. And as I sat there at the bar, I asked myself: is this something that you should really be offended by?

I had a few hours to myself with my Long Island at the bar after that, and I thought around in a few circles. I know I have a different mindset when it comes to relationships as such, and I am absolutely used to things being obviously non-reciprocal. I understand that side of things, but what I don't understand is how I can be so close with someone for so long, and for it to mean so little to them. I don't know. Should I allow myself to be hurt or just toughen it up and tell myself to get over it?

I don't like it, but what would the "holiday season" be without some unnecessary pain?

Thursday, November 19, 2015


Story time.

I went to the game on Tuesday. I had been looking forward to it all week, knowing that I would get to go with my favorite person to go to hockey games with. I got to the bar early to hang out and get a proper buzz going. I saw a lot of friends, and we made our way over to watch a brilliant game. Best the CBJ have played all season. It actually felt like 1000lbs of pressure lifted off of me seeing that game-clinching goal go in late in the third.

After the game we celebrated with friends. 3 in a row for the first time all year, and hands down the best game they had played all season. We headed back to the bar and my other best friend was there with shots ready for celebration. What a glorious day.  We drank, we chatted, and then we headed out to the patio to enjoy some beautiful mid-November weather.

And then something hit me. Panic? No. Depression? Absolutely. Something was wrong. It's that feeling that used to hit me all the dang time when I was younger. It caused a panic within me, and I quickly closed my tab as the 4 of us sat at the table gleefully chatting about victory. I made a move to head to the bathroom and ran out of the bar to my car, speeding home. I felt miserable. I felt that everything was crashing down on me and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

The worst. Both of my best friends texted me trying to figure out what was wrong. How do you tell someone that everything and nothing is wrong at the same time? How do you pinpoint the flaw when it's just a blur of white chaos inside of you? Worst of all, how do you prevent it from happening again? By all means, I had no reasons to be sad whatsoever. Great game, great time with friends, and the upcoming Wednesday spent out with my beloved fiancee.

I can't place anything on it, but I'd really rather it not happen again this year. It just makes me feel like junk inside, and a bad friend outside. My buddies have assured me that they find no fault in my behavior, but at the same time I find myself breaking out reasons to tear myself down.


Thursday, November 12, 2015


i cannot be good enough. i do not know how to be enough. if i cannot be enough, how can i ever be good enough? some days, i cannot even be. never is ever enough.

Tuesday, November 10, 2015

Too much

I believe there is just a bit too much going on in my life.

But right now, I'm sitting here listening to albums that I had listened to earlier this year and thought I had enjoyed them. As it turns out, I didn't enjoy most of them as much as I remember liking them. That's odd.

Other oddities have been surfacing in my life lately. Multiple people at work have told me multiple different careers they think I would be better suited for in life. One of my co-workers thinks I should be a radio DJ. Another thinks I should do sports TV. It breaks my heart to hear these things, because these are the things I always wanted to do but was never able to reach.  I am just another failure on the path.

But, last week was a good week. Minus a major scare, it was a downright great week. And it's also time to really knock out the Top 20. At least I'm good at that!

Tuesday, November 3, 2015

You don't mean it

But it doesn't hurt any less.

And as easy as it is to say that you can make it better, I cannot.

One day it will be about me. One day, it might even be me.

Sunday, October 25, 2015

Heart rate

I feel as though my time is coming to an end.

My physical body cannot keep up with the work demands I am putting on it. My heart has been stretched as far as my insides tell me it will allow. My soul... I feel as though my soul is just shards any more.

The worst feeling of all is that I know it has to get much worse before it can get better. I cannot instigate a change right now. Things were looking so good a few months ago. I'm actually scared for things to get better.

So why wait? Why not just cut out the middle area of pain and suffering and just skip to the end?

I feel as though I can only make it til the end.

Thursday, October 22, 2015

Hadd a Way

What is love? Is love giving yourself to an impossible idea of perfection that brings bliss to your heart?

Is love pushing your insides to their limits in some twisted way to see just how many heartstrings you have left?

It is giving more love than you have within you to someone incapable of receiving it? Or perhaps giving it all to someone who is unable to reciprocate?

Love might be a shovel you dig with. Eventually you get so deep that you literally cannot see any light from above. And then you realize that you only have a shovel. You've given all your strength to reach the goal, and there's no treasure chest at the bottom. This is probably love.


Love is, in it's simplest form, unrequited. I have spent my entire life giving my love to people who either couldn't or wouldn't return it.

Is it because I love too hard? I give too much and it scares people? I give with a passion so strong that perhaps it seems inequitable for others to follow suit. The scale is then tipped and I find myself unbalanced in my heart.

And so, I settle for emptiness. Because emptiness only asks for more, and more is what I've been giving all along.