The Eulogy

“When one door closes, another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us.”~Alexander Graham Bell
 
This won't be me, I vow. You'll regret losing me one day mightily. But not me. I was fearless and I put myself and my love out there for you. It will come back to me in so many ways. You won't, but that's your, and only your loss . . .big time

Days where you are required to feel bad

Two weeks since making my world fall apart. I still think about you.  That's me, pick pick pick, but it had to be done. Ten years is a long time to let the chips ride on 'love' and let the roulette wheel keep spinning. You love to gamble, not me. I bet it doesn't even bother you. Never did. That little ball, bouncing on the wheel. My fate always in the balance. You were never going to let the gravity of it all take hold, after all.

Ten years ended with one word. Ten years ended for 30 days with her. I hope it was worth it. Actually, no I don't. Bad Karma be damned! I hope in 30 more she won't take your calls. I hope you end up miserable and alone. Flat on your back in life with nowhere to look but at the love you shunned. I know you won't. No punishment ever comes, no awareness, no value ever placed on my head, my self, me in relation to you. I'm nothing. Vapor to you.

You lied, you cheated, and you took advantage.  Yet nothing touches you. "Sorry" to end ten years. She was worth so much more than 3,650 days/87, 600 hours/5'256'000 minutes of wanting for nothing, waiting for nothing, trying for nothing, giving up, sacrificing, doing, for nothing. I love you and it means nothing. What else could I say? "Bye". That first, fateful time, I wished and wished so hard for you to be in love with me for the rest of your life. Instead, the universe cursed me with it instead. My destiny to cry over you while you live happily ever after.

 

Bring on the cliches. It's your loss, even though I'm the only one that feels the hole in my life. I'm better off, despite being miserable. She'll dump you, but if it wasn't her, it would be someone else. You'll get your's in the end, except you never have. If you love something let it go, if it comes back it's your's, but I've done that. A lot. Are you mine yet? 

The last one? Living well is the best revenge. It will have to do. I will purge you from the surface even if I can never expunge you from my heart and soul. I hate you and I hate her, but I hate myself the most. I curse that I have let my life be this. Now I have a new aim. To live, to survive without you, to thrive in spite of you, and out of spite at you. Even if I never get to rub it in, I guess that's all I've got. That's all I'll ever have. Because I don't have you and so the story ends. It feels so incomplete. I have to keep repeating 'you will let this go. You WILL make this the last word, the last ending'. What a sad, simple, false ending it is. My one-word answer for your's.

I will go on, without you, thinking about you probably for the rest of my life. You'll never think on me again.

Lessons learned

When life hands you heartache,
build a bridge . . . and get the hell over it

I always wanted green eyes

I'm jealous a lot lately. I envy, I want. I hate those that possess what I want. I feel like Tolkien's Gollum, whispering silently to my inner demons, trapped in a prison of wanting. 

I never thought of it as jealousy exactly, or of myself as a 'jealous person'. Surprise, surprise I am! Only for one object, I think to myself. Even then, I know it's not healthy. Comparisons are hard stuff when you always come up short. Jealousy is dangerous. You can feel it twisting and bending your character a little each time. That pang, that want, a lack in yourself that you see displayed so clearly, or an object possessed so easily, by others. 

If you hold onto something tightly, say literally pick up a rock in your hand, after carrying it around for so long and tightly gripping it . . . eventually it will dig into the soft flesh of your palm, abrade your thin skin, and make you bleed. If you hold onto something tightly, metaphorically, say an idea, an ideal, a person, the idea of a person, after carrying it around for so long and tightly gripping it . . . eventually it will dig into the soft flesh of your soul, abrade the thin skin of  your sanity, and make your heart bleed.

I remind myself of 'Balance'. If you love something set it free, if it comes back to you, it is yours forever. I remind myself of 'Que Sera'. Still my yearning persists. My jealousy continues. However, that which you cannot change, you have to accept, right? So I go on with this hole in me, this want. So, if I cannot get rid of my want, or my jealousy . . .what then?

I read this yesterday and thought it was brilliant: 

"Jealousy is data; what’s [your] envy telling [you] about [your] goals?”

Nadia Comăneci may well be the perfect human being

I, personally, believe that Newton's three laws of motion are the 'Golden Rules' for life. Newton's three laws are all about one thing: Balance. This is what physics, and life, are all about. 

I just finished reading/watching the pop-culture phenomenon that is 'Eat, Pray, Love'. The whole thing was whiny, and oh-so-Westernized, but seemed to hinge on that one, little word: Balance. Little word, huge concept. Huge and very elusive to us frenetic human beings.

It rules the world. It runs the world. The fact that escapes us mere mortals is this--nature has balance. All by itself, no effort, no interferance.

Back to Newton. His first law of motion is,

I. Every object in a state of uniform motion tends to remain in that state of motion unless an external force is applied to it.

 For the physics-phobic amongst us that means that things find their own balance unless some dumb mother-f*cker steps in and tries to assert their "better" judgment.  

It's a perfect metaphor for how we, as people, spend our whole lives looking for a balance that naturally asserts itself everywhere in the universe. I say this, absolutely, as one of the dumb mother- f*ckers who is constantly thinking I can seek/create/exert my own version of balance in a world that will swing the pendulum until it rests perfectly where it is supposed to be all along. Boy, though, patience is hard.