happy eventually

And then some time passed.
Now I'm alone again. Or at least I feel like I'm alone. I know that I'm alone right now, besides an ever-present but extremely quiet being that holds my hope in its little cupped hands, watching it closely as it quivers with every step I take, no matter the direction. A cute kind of extremely quiet. Not even a little bit awkward. Like it knows that I know that it's there, and that it will always follow me, unless I'm doing something that makes it uncomfortable. It seems perfectly content to sit or stand there behind me and just be a nice little reminder that I know what I'm supposed to do if I want to be happy. Of course I want to be happy, what is that "if" all about?
I got my patriarchal blessing. Exciting, isn't it? Who am I asking? I'm just typing to empty air again, and if I'm not, I should pretend to.
It's not really that exciting. A better word would be "comforting". I already knew my path, I think. It's just nice to know that, hey, I guess I was right about it to begin with. Go on a mission and get married. Always have enough. Ephraim, by the way, and luckily I was ready to hear that. It's not like it makes me like everyone else at all, because clearly, I'm still way different. I don't have the transcript fresh on me right now, but I'm not supposed to share everything anyway. Even if this was totally private, I have it in my desk whenever I feel like I need to study it again.
When morning comes I'm going to be making another dentist appointment. Besides complacency, my teeth have proven to be the biggest obstacle between me and my mission (although the two are related in many ways), so I found a nearby dentist (like a block away) that accepts our insurance, and I've resolved to go as frequently as possible, which has turned out to be very frequent. My second appointment came a day after my first, and I had some major problems ripped out of my jaw, which unfortunately set me on the back-burner for about two weeks to heal up and let the antibiotics start kicking in. No complaints from me though (oh except I eat way slow now but that was always a thing with me anyway) because I just want to get it out of the way. No matter how quick, though, it's going to take up a lot of time.
Even after I turn in my papers, I have to wait for them to be processed, and after I get my call, I have to wait for the actual date to come around, which could take months depending on the circumstances. Really it's my own fault for putting it off so heavily. But would anyone believe me if I said the thing that distracted me the most is the thing that also motivated me the most?
Not thing. Person. Girl. Girl I love. She made me want to get on with my life so that I could be with her, and I knew that nothing happens until I go on my mission. The problem is that I still need to feel connected and intimate. Always so afraid to let go. That's me.
I don't know the exact reasons for her not wanting me to be around anymore. Suffocating, she said, but we used to be happy when we were close. I'm completely lost. I don't understand at all. She still loves me, but it hurts her whenever I'm talking to her. All I can think about is, what changed? What did I do wrong? Can't I fix it?
I know what I did wrong. I did things she told me not to do, because it felt right at the time. I demanded too much of her time, though she used to be so pleased to give entire days to me. Every time she said "Maybe we shouldn't be together after all," I felt so desperate, I knew that that was her taking steps away from me. I can't fix it. I can't do anything.
So I let it be. It's one of those things where trying just makes it worse. I can't explain it, because I don't understand it. I never want to be away from the people I love. Maybe I would eventually, but I wouldn't know, to be honest, since whatever limit I might have hasn't been reached. Or maybe it's that there really isn't anyone else in my life. Not even friends, really. I gave up even the smallest acquaintances who demanded nothing of me. And look at me now, here I am, alone. For a while there I had some people to play games with, but it kind of looks like that didn't mean all that much. And the people I could actually physically spend time with? Gone away, on missions and such. It's like there really isn't anything else for me to do except leave, and be sure to turn the lights off and shut the door on my way out. But before I do that, there is just so much cleaning up to do. And I'm going to do it alone.
At least I have an adventure to look forward to. An adventure long enough that I might even forget what things are usually like for me, which could only be a good thing. I'm going to meet so many new people and do lots of stuff that I haven't ever done before. I'm going to have short hair and I'll have to shave every day, and exercise, and do lots of walking and moving around. I'll probably gain a lot of weight from that, and the actual eating of substantial meals. I'll be getting so much stronger in a lot of ways. Even when I come home, nothing will be the same, and thank God for that.
Back when I knew that I would be alone for a long while, I thought to myself, hey, lots of time for doing stuff that you know you need to do. Practice guitar, read, write, go on walks and stuff. I've been reading a bit, but really, who am I to kid myself like that? I just don't have any motivation to do anything. I mean, I kind of do. It's not like she wants nothing to do with me, but thinking about it is really painful. I can't use it anymore. I'll strum a few chords, feel like I'm getting better at positioning my fingers, stare out the window, and then I'll just get sad. Think, My life's not over, but it sure isn't going anywhere for a while. Reading though, that's nice. It makes me forget. It makes me make myself stop thinking about it, because I can read and be thinking about something else, but then I realize I have no idea what I just read, so I have to do it again, and actually focus on it. Watching movies and shows is even better, because there's more in front of me. The situations portrayed are things I can relate to in some way (even the songs sometimes), and so, while I do get to think about it, I do so in a positive way.
But then there's times like this, and it's great that I'm writing about it, but otherwise I just can't get it out of my head that she doesn't want me around as much anymore. She tells me to go. She says goodbye. Granted that her stress is largely situational, but how else am I supposed to feel about that? I know she means it when she says she loves me and that she still has hopes for a future together, but here I am now, why do I have to be alone like this if that's how she feels? What can I do to fix it? There's really nothing. I can't even tell her how I feel, because that would hurt her. I can't let her know that I think about her constantly and that I miss spending time with her. She told me not to. She loves me, but when I think about it, she treats me like I'm just another guy. Maybe even less than that. After all the special things we shared; like none of it ever even happened.
She just wants to be unburdened right now. That's all I know for sure. But it used to make her happy to spend time with me. What changed. What did I do wrong. Can I fix it. I can't. Just leave it.
So time passed, and now I'm by myself. That hole is still there, and it's hard for me to tell if it managed to get even bigger. No good trying to figure that one out, what with not even knowing whether or not it's empty.
You know what though? I know I'm going to end up happy eventually. I'm going to look back to this time one day and think to myself, What was I even worried about? Why didn't I just look ahead and remember the vaguest details which were way more than enough to reassure me? God loves me, and as long as I don't reject that love, how could things possibly turn out badly? After this comparatively insignificant time of loneliness, I have an eternity of love and togetherness to look forward to. Yeah, I still hope it's her, and hopefully I'll be open to other ideas as well when the time comes, and that's going to be important, because I need to listen very carefully. There's a woman out there that will be perfect for me, and I'll be perfect for her. And I'd say "God willing", but I already know that He is.

Stubbornness

Sometimes I'm not sure what to do with myself at times. Wow, what do I do? I write, I guess.
What a great way to start a post. Good job with that.

Seriously though. There's been a lot going on, which is always the conclusion when I take the time to examine my life. It's a lot more eventful than I realize sometimes.
But the thing is, a lot of what's going on is just happening through conversations over the internet. It's weird to think how much of what seems relevant to me is something as minuscule as words on a screen, but here we are anyway.
To be fair, words can be only the surface on a great hill of context. This might be where I provide an example, but I know what I'm generally talking about here.
It's not the words, I guess. It's the reason you're reading them that really matters. Words come from a lot of places. They can be either read or heard (or both). They're just combinations of sounds, or letters representing certain sounds. Our culture is initially what gives any meaning to all these patterns. Our parents teach us first, and then we learn from everywhere else what all the noise means.
We can communicate at all, isn't that a bit of a miracle?
But before I start to sound more presumptuous than I already do, let's talk about the thing that actually matters. Things plural, maybe.
Isn't it interesting how education, the supposed expansion of our knowledge, can make us so close-minded about things? We're taught a certain way of things, and suddenly we believe that that way is the only way or at least the best way. I think we can extrapolate here and just say that there are many ways to reach many things. But then there's religion. Most of our religions state that there is only one way to achieve its prescribed reward. How could this possibly be correct? How can millions of people be expected to follow the exact same protocol for salvation or enlightenment? No matter how malleable the methods, it must certainly lock out a few people who are just unable to make the necessary psychological developments required of them. Maybe they're too stupid, maybe their instincts were affected in some way during their early childhood, maybe some kind of trauma drives them away from what would normally be a tantalizing spiritual experience. What if their mother didn't hug them enough? What if she hugged them too much? The root problem is that a lot of people don't realize that they're in complete control of themselves, or that they relinquished this control to some unseen inner force long ago. Why would anyone ever let go like that?
It's really one of the greatest tragedies in life, because it's one that doesn't have to happen. Sometimes two people will be completely incompatible with each other in every way! Something like that could only happen if both of them refuse to accept that they are a fluid concept, a persona that changes in interesting ways depending on what is around them. Not only that, but a stubborn individual is missing countless opportunities to become... BETTER, to put it simply. Not the best term, I guess. Who can really say who is better than another person, even if they're only separated by time? Are you better than you used to be just because people can stand to talk to you for five minutes, or if you do the dishes more often, or you are more generous with your money? You can. You're the one who says. Even though there doesn't seem to be a perfect answer, that's the closest we're getting.
This is a fascinating subject that I'd love to expand on, but I'm still dancing around the point.
(Hey thanks me a month ago! How am I supposed to remember what the point was if you never actually typed it down? It's okay. I can guess. Also you'll never read this anyway. Or you will... in a month from now as you're typing it. Darn, now I feel stupid. Sorry, self.)
I think the point was that I'm getting in to too much of this internet drama crap. How can I even be taking it all seriously? What is stopping me from just disconnecting myself for a while? I think the answer there is that I'm kind of pathetic in a way. I can put it plainly. These people need my help. If I wasn't there, who knows what kind of anarchy would be going on, what vicious cycles they would be going through? I give myself too much credit. I'm just so tangled up in all of this. Emotions are involved.
There's a girl who lives far away. After talking to her for awhile, telling her about myself and my experiences, even showing her this blog, she told me she loves me.
She said she'd give up on love if it couldn't be me. So young, and I took it seriously? She even sent me a wonderful gift that I'm going to be hard-pressed to return the sentiment for.
Here's the truth: I felt obligated. There was too much pressure. The thought of hurting her, the thought of seeming ungrateful; I just couldn't stand it.
Truly, if there was only one thing between me and the nature of God, it would be His ability to allow people to suffer temporarily. (Surely plenty more than that, but that's the big one.)
I can't just rush in somewhere believing that things will change for the better as I do so. I wrote earlier about the stubbornness of many people and things. The world won't change for you, no matter how hard you try to alter your perception. That would be my stubbornness, I guess. There were friends I couldn't ignore.
What happened? I just couldn't change. There are things about me that either aren't fluid anymore, or that I believe shouldn't be. I believe in loyalty between lovers, fidelity based on rules that can't be specified by the couple. Not even rules; it's just the way things are meant to be. You can't give all of yourself to more than one person. There is nothing in this world worth defying that law for, nor is it really possible to defy. Feel free to try, if you don't mind misery.
I ended it because everyone was miserable. Now things are better. I've learned that you can't force yourself to love someone; the idea is quite burnt into my brain now.
There is a girl that I love, and I should not have tried not to. I told her the truth, and it made both of us happy.

So selfish of me...

Okay, seriously. Something I really want to know.
Why do people bother with a temporary relationship?
What was I supposed to do?
Make it a self-fulfilling prophecy or something? That would have been stupid.
Make the most of it? That would have been selfish. Even though I sort of tried to do that. But only sort of. It's what I resolved to do, even though I never had the chance. People told me it was normal. What the heck is wrong with said people? They definitely don't know what they're talking about.
So what really happened? I rode it out.
I'm not stupid, so I'm not going to pretend that I couldn't have made it last longer. Anyone who ends up reading this, take it from me: As soon as you stop being amazing, you are giving them time to think about why they don't want to be with you. Whether or not this REALLY had anything to do with what happened with me, it's true.
That's what making the most of it means, right? Dragging it out for as long as possible? Man, did I fall short of that.
But right now, I have a devil of a toothache. I can't be expected to text someone for the better part of the day when I have to actually worry about making myself comfortable enough to not be in agony.
Let's be real, though.
I'll fess up to it. Despite my recent shortcomings probably having to do with it ending now of all times, I wasn't all that into it either. I just wanted someone, it didn't really matter who. It's really hard for me to admit to that. So selfish of me...
Should I tell myself that I should only be with a girl that I know I really love? After everything I've been through, will I even be able to recognize the feeling? I guess I could say that if I don't know for sure, it isn't it. I don't think I've felt real love before, but I'm confident that I'll recognize it like an old friend, should I ever find it.
I do need to keep an open mind, though. Do you realize how many lonely and beautiful women there are, all over the world? At least one of them probably thinks that I'm the best (and isn't also insane in some way)!

"My clever spunk"

Alright. Fine.
To make a short story even shorter, "Dream-Girl" as I called her, doesn't care about me. I don't know this for certain; how would anyone know anyway? But sometimes, it just hurts to hope.
You see, I think ladies have this dance programmed into them. When they like someone, they're NOT SURE about it. So they poke and prod and experiment. The most natural way to experiment is to merely test both sides of the water. What is this guy like when I'm flirting with him? What is he like when I'm totally rejecting his pathetic pleas for companionship? I hereby vow with the deepest rites of womanhood that this man will follow and dote upon me no matter how I treat him, whether it be leading him on or shooing him away, or by my holy feminine word he is not worthy!
Or some other completely retarded crap. Just HOW hardwired are they? Is it worth it to try and wait for a girl that isn't going to run tests on me? Some nice chick who won't immediately resort to treating me like a lab rat? All I want to know is if girls like that even exist.
And what about a girl who talks to me first? Someone with a little boldness, or surety. That would be awesome. Unfortunately that kind of thing too closely resembles the problem with time-travel; she would have appeared by now. Unless she just doesn't know I exist. That would be excusable.
But I guess it's worth it sometimes, to play their games. Believe me, a woman would have to be beyond amazing in order to escape that behavior.
With what's going on now it's kind of hard for me to say that it's more about me than it is about other people. And... I've recently discovered that it's not really like me to really care about myself anyway. It's something I conditioned myself to pretend to do in order to avoid depression. Every time I say something about myself, every time I play myself up, it's kind of more of a joke than actual annoying self-esteem. Take it from me, it works. I haven't been REALLY depressed since I started doing it. But I worry that I might be missing out on something, or that people don't ever get to see the real me. All they see is my clever spunk. For someone who's so preoccupied on the importance of being genuine, I sure can get phony sometimes. But... it kind of is me, I suppose. In the very least it's my own way of keeping myself afloat. Everybody has those, right? I could try to shed it off and see if I feel any more real, but that's a frightening thing to do.
Anyway. Let's see, I've complained about romance, delved into my own psychology (and I'm probably only kind of close to right about it), and promised myself progress. So I guess there's not much else to say here, is there?

"It gapes and gapes"

Have either of you, my "followers"--

Alright. Hi guys. Yeah, it looks like I'm not just typing out into empty air anymore. That's okay, you're both cool. And hello to anyone else who reads this anonymously. You're probably cool too. You know, I honestly didn't think that I'd get viewership. Especially this early on. I'll try my best to keep typing like I'm doing it for therapy.
Anyways.

Have either of you ever had time slow down to a crawl? You know, where before something major happened or a project began, your days seemed to be going by far too quickly, you felt as though wasting time was as simple as wandering off into the internet, reading random stuff, even staring into space, when boom, something happens and suddenly it's all comparatively in slow motion. It's a little bit exhausting. I'm not entirely sure humans were designed to live moment after moment of their entire lives; it's a very smothering feeling.
One of the times this happened to me was during a winterim project, where the class produced a film. It only lasted two weeks, but looking back, I remember more from those two weeks than I remember from any other random four months of my life. This was an awesome experience. Even though time slowed to a crawl, I was filled with feelings of accomplishment as we progressed. And despite that I was only the male lead and the director of photography, I count that ten minute film among the greatest things that I was involved in producing.
It's been a similar experience with the musical I was just in. I loved every single long minute of it, and I wish it didn't have to end, but at the same time I'm glad that I get to move on to new things.
But really, to what? I'd written all of that a few weeks ago.
I feel like I'm standing at a major crossroads, looking down each way, but not moving. Just standing there, like I'm waiting for something to happen. I doubt that any path will take me somewhere I don't want to be, but how can I be sure there's a destination anyway? It's perfectly possible that someone paved a road for the sake of having a paved road. I don't want to work for the rest of my life. I don't want to work for any of my life, for that matter. And what about the paths that I can't see? The ones that have no signs and no trails, but still lead somewhere great?
Little of this seems to matter, though. I have nothing to work for. I have very little to offer the world; in fact I've discovered that we have so much content that perhaps spending the rest of my life consuming it would benefit me even more. Like I wrote before, none of my skills are practical in this day and age. I have a desire to learn an instrument, but those are expensive and I have no idea how serious I am about wanting to play. I would just love to work in a bookstore, but where have they gone, anyway?
And even littler of that seems to matter. This hole, the aforementioned hole in my existence, gapes on. It gapes and gapes, and I have utterly failed to ignore it. I have purposefully stumbled in it at least twice by now and made certain that it doesn't seal itself up. If anyone has seen me happy, it is because something enabled me to be distracted from it.
I'm starting to think that the only reason I reach out like I do is because I'm trying to prove to myself that I am indeed worth whatever wait or other such nonsense. I'm going to stop that immediately, and if love happens, great, but I'm done trying to force it.

"Selfishly Selfless"

I used to take ballroom dance. I hated the class, but I enjoyed dancing. It wasn't the proximity to female bodies, it was... just something about learning how to move in a way that was artistic. I was a complete natural, and I only started getting really good when I stopped trying to think so hard about what I was doing.
Anyways, I stopped after four years. Why? Well, there's just something about being around girls and exerting myself physically that makes me sweat. And apparently there's this cultural rule that says that sweat is repulsive. (I haven't done a full investigation, but it seems to be a States-born ideology. The French have absolutely no problem with it.)
Basically I started hating myself every time I went to the class. Girls avoided dancing with me, pretty blatantly. There were one or two that didn't seem to mind so much, or were good at hiding it. So close to the end of my sophomore year, I just stopped going. I didn't need the class for any credits or anything, I was just in it because I thought I wanted to be.
But hey. It turns out that the one major issue in doing art that requires other people, is that it requires other people. And you'd be lucky to find a partner that's as serious about the art as you are.

So I traded it out for martial arts. I can honestly say that that was the best decision I have ever made in my entire life. While my hygiene issues were still apparent in that environment, the other students didn't really seem to care. They were serious about what they were doing, and they were having fun with it. (It might also have something to do with the fact that they were adults; I was the youngest student out of every one of them, even the ones I never met.)
Martial arts fulfilled every need for artistic movement that dancing had, and then some. I learned how to stand properly, how to punch properly, how to hurt people when they tried to punch me, and every day I felt more and more powerful. It was all so practical and invigorating, and even though nearly everyone in the school was capable of killing me with their bare hands, they were all extremely friendly. I loved it.
So why did I stop? It was expensive, and I was busy. And to be honest, going to the class was difficult. I would go straight there after school, and I wouldn't get home until around ten. When you're me, you need time every single day for "whatever". I felt as though I had completely lost those days.

I was busy with theatre. (Yes, I always spell it that way.) Not professional theatre, just school stuff. Drama class stuff.
At that time I was rehearsing for Guys & Dolls. I was Benny Southstreet, which was okay. Every day I was there I knew I wouldn't have made the cut if I hadn't moved to such a small school. Everyone who auditioned was given a part. We might have even been short a few roles.
Theatre became more important than anything, and it felt good that way. There were still days where I didn't get home until late, but I was fine with it, because I was benefiting an entire cast, a whole production, by being there. Not just myself.

...I guess she was right. Feeling necessary is important to me. (And blast it all. I was trying to write an entire post without mentioning her.)

(I was GOING to write about how last night the cast for the musical I'm currently in started practicing dance routines and how it really takes me back and makes me think about this stuff, but once again, all I've managed to do is prove that I can't get Dream-Girl, and everything she's said to me, out of my head.)

So what does that mean? That I'm selfishly selfless? This must be why I hate thinking about my raison d'être. And the worst part is, the moment the last performance of this musical ends, I'll be forced to find another one.

So, alright. I'll level with my friends. I'm kind, sensitive, intelligent, talented, sincere, (relentlessly) honest, and not that bad looking. Now can somebody finally tell me what is so very wrong with me?

"She's taken me to a different world."

As recently as two weeks ago, I was living in a state of "Carry on, you hopeless romantic". I was happy. I had things to do. Games to play, shows to watch, art to produce, friends to spend time with. Everything was fine, except for my total lack and absolutely no sign of a significant other.
In that sense, I was a bit of a wreck on the inside. Whenever a friend would tell me that someday women would be coming to me and beg for marriage, I would angrily deny it. They would say I have charm, that I'm nice, smart, good-looking, accuse me of ignoring girls who liked me, and to be honest, all I felt was patronized. I still don't really believe them, but I'm beginning to accept the possibility that they were being sincere.
And alright. There is one girl who likes me, but she lives in Australia and is way too mainstream and blonde for my tastes. Honestly, why someone like her likes someone like me is way beyond my understanding. I mean, while I don't really believe in incompatibility, it just screams "I don't really know you and I see you how I want to see you and what I see is something I like". Normally I'm not annoyed by things people do, but she needs to grow up a bit.

Anyways, this Dream-Girl has seriously changed things. Without trying, she's taken me to a different world. In this world, she matters more than anything else. Her occupation in my mind has made me think so hard about everything I do; it's kept me from eating, given me strange dreams, and prevented me from... doing things that make me hate myself. Besides the sudden lack of nutrient intake, I feel a lot more motivated to take care of myself and transform into the sort of person that I can stand to be. I do my laundry, I brush my teeth, I shower, I've written in this blog more frequently, because thinking of her forces me to look at myself and ask, "Are you the sort of person who deserves to have their dreams come true?" (I know I'm using that word a lot, but seriously. She's as intelligent as she is beautiful, and as kind as she is both of those put together. Even establishing communication with her seemed pretty radical.)

Alright. Five and a half hours went by. And I talked to her. Over facebook chat, but still.
It turns out that there is indeed a crisis. One dire enough for her to decide that now is not the time for romance. Contextual hot chocolate is postponed, if it ever does happen.

It's strange. I completely believed her when she said it. Only now is it starting to cross my mind that maybe she's just letting me down easy.
But no, it couldn't be. I would've been able to tell. I think.
I mean, I know that I've been way beyond weird with her, but she's weird, right? I don't know. What does weird even mean anymore? And why can't I stop being it?

Anyways, above the noise of my mind arguing with itself over whether this was a gain or a loss, there's a much more resolved part telling me that no matter what happens, I'll be fine, and what's supposed to happen WILL happen, even if God has to descend from his throne and visit Earth to make it so. It reassures me that I've done everything I can, and everything I've done has been the right thing.

But... Now what? Am I just supposed to wait? She promised me that she would live through it, and I told her I would wait.
I also told her that no matter what happened, I would be able to carry on. That is the complete truth. But is being so relentlessly honest really such a good idea?