For the Sake of Dreams

It’s been a really long time since I got on here and went on a rambling and totally inconsequential bit of existential musing.  It seems like all I ever get from life is a chance to see just how disappointed I can be.  I try something, it fails.  I work at something, nothing becomes of it.  I take a chance, it comes back to bite me as well.  Nothing ever goes right.  I just learned to work with it.  To let life flow.  Every time I try and block the river, I end up getting my feelings hurt, my expectations tarnished or my heart crushed.  There are days when I wonder why I do it.  But then I remember – I don’t have anything else.

Cassiopeia SupernovaTonight, I got to learn two things about two people that are important to me.  The first is that both of them are gay.  I knew it with both of them.  The first, my gaydar was blaring the minute she told me that she had had girlfriends.  She thought she was bi.  I knew better.  After all, I was interested in her.  Any woman I have been interested in is either gay, taken or uninterested,  The majority are the first two.  Only a couple have been the third.  So yeah.  With the second, I had a very sneaking suspicion.  My gaydar was also going off then too, but not as loudly.  It was just letting me know that the chances were good.  Again, she was also someone I was interested in.  She hadn’t realized it to herself, but now she knows for sure.  They are both good friends, and I am happy to know them.  But the truth is, at the end of the day, I realize something from their stories – I am always going to be alone.  Always.

Ever since the bullshit with Emily, a growing part of myself has been understanding that women just don’t like a guy like me.  I’m okay to look at, but nothing special.  A titan of a man, towering over everyone else.  A little weird, tending to dance to my own tune.  More than a little depressing, which makes the parentals worry about me.  When you are a strange person, outside the norms, and you live in the world I do, then you gradually being to realize that you don’t have much of a place in it.  Add to that the fact that I am remarkably easy to forget, and you have a recipe for a life where you are friend-zone material to everyone you are interested in.

Some, like both of these people, try and be nice about it.  They say we are a good friend and that your friendship is important to them.  I know they mean it, too.  Neither of them are insincere people.  However, as much as I want to take that for what it’s worth, this story has become so common that I am about to assign theme music to it.  The same song and Water Candledance that I have been through a hundred times.  I think I am going to stop my casual flirting that I was doing with both.  It feels like a wasted effort now, and when I know that a behavior gets me nothing, it just makes doing it that much of a pain, because it is not getting me anything.  Willingly beating my head against a wall isn’t my idea of a good time.  I sounds mean, and it’s not like I’m going to stop talking to them.  They are good friends.  But the conversations will take a very different turn.

A habit we have gotten into throughout me and my split-personality’s time in being is not saying how we feel.  Every time I have done that, really made my opinion known, it has always had disastrous consequences.  Instead, we are nice, hide how we really feel and then go out of our way to be a better person than we want to be.  We don’t say when we’re hurting.  We don’t say when we want to cry.  We don’t tell people that something is making us feel bad.  Because what changes?  I can get a “sorry to hear that,” but at the end of the day, when a person who is naturally depressing cries on your shoulder, it eventually comes to the point where you don’t want to be around them anymore.

So we bottle it up inside, randomly sobbing to ourselves when we are sure that we are alone.  Curling up on the floor of our dorm room, staring at the dark.  Seeing the memories play in the LED lights, like shadows cast on the wall of the cave that is our life.  We grieve, we remorse, but because we have driven away a lot of people by being who we are.  Better to hide it behind a veneer of witty sarcasm than to make people not want to be around us.  After all, I have been abandoned by every single person I have called a best friend in my life.  I’m not eager to be abandoned by more people.

I have always loved Nirvana’s music.  Kurt Cobain was a kindred spirit to me.  My story in life may end in the same way as his, but let no one say that what has been our time was wasted.  We are a damn good friend.  I have been there for every single person who has asked for my time, or who I felt needed it.  I have been loyal to all the people who have shown loyalty to me.  The quality of the life you lead isn’t in how long it is, but what you do with it.  The people who you touch and the ways you make things better for them.  Being a good friend is worth something.  It has to be.

Right?

Until next time, a quote,

“I like being alone.  At least, I convinced myself I’m better off that way…we’re better off alone.  We suffer alone.  We die alone.  It doesn’t matter if you’re a model, husband or father of the year.  Tomorrow will be the same for you.”  -Gregory House, House M.D.

Peace out,

Maverick

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