Love can be blind. In this case, it’s partially deaf.
ife We all have our relationshps, whether they be friendships, lovers, casual encounters, or lust-filled endeavors. We come to respect, hate, trust, appreciate and eventually despise most of them, but which one of them is worth our limited time in this short exprience we call “life”? I would like to think that all the time that I spend on each individual in my life is something that was well-spent, it was worth my effort to forge this connection and to establish this bond. I question this every day, not out of curiosity, but out of sheer conviction; something is always going to pick at our brain no matter how hard we try to avoid it, and this is one itch that I must scratch.
To quote a character from one of my favorite movies, protagonist Joel Barish, “Why do I fall in love with every woman I see who shows me the least bit of attention?”.
This attachment addiction has to stop, this musing around thinking I am falling in love must come to an end before it takes my life and strangles it to the point where I cannot even recognize it anymore. My life changed on the night of December 19th in New York City, there I was, stuck in a mentality that I was alway going to be one short of the mark of really knowing what I really was to be free in happy in such a groggy world of false relationships and conventional lies. A simple handshake and a smile turned my world upside down, over that next month I would discover what it was to be free, what it was to be in euphoria, to have such a deep longing for a person just because you love them so much, but you never once do anything to jeopardize the relationship. I went head first into one of the greatest exepriences of my life, I finally understodd the stupidity of life, and the small amount of treasure that unearths from it’s murky depths of greed, corruption, and malice. Someone had shown me that all we need in life is that someone that can make the a day that seems to progressively turn worse into a day you will not soon forget; the glimmer of their eye, the faint smile of happiness and love mixed with the unsure feeling of complete enraturement and compulsiveness slowly washing over a scene that not even the greatest romance movie could reproduce. Two people, alone in their own world, learning that everything else in life is just for those who are still caught up in it’s conventional meaning, and what they had found was something that they wanted, but realized it was all they ever needed.
That is all over now, it has not returned since that day it suddenly ended, now I back to my starting place where all I seem to do is search for the ends to my means, and it all seems to be in vain. What is one to do when they feel they have met the one, and they are gone? Am I forced to move on knowing I will never know the greatest joy of my life again, or do I fool myself into thinking the heat of the moment was the fuel for the emotional fire? It wasn’t what everyone thought it was, this was something different, it was real, every moment we had together had a special meaning, every word we spoke was uttered as if we were speaking the most profound words of our lives to one another. I enjoyed knowing the halcyon days of our winter love was something that gave me a new lease on life, it was the one thing that made me stop and think that a dream had been fulfilled, and in reality, I was right.
Night after night, from the age of 14, I had a recurring dream of a dark haired, fair skinned beauty that led me into what seemed like endless days of euphoria. I could feel emotions, tears, fear, love, happiness, eagerness, and freedom, above all else. I thought I would never find this person, I dated one girl after the other in hopes of fulfilling this fleeting dream of madness, and then I met her. The dream never came back after that, I had fallen in love many times before her, but this was an obviously different, my subconsious was apparently so satisfied that I had reached my goal that it actually reached out and stopped the dreams to blatantly let me know that I had accomplished a goal that I was convinced I was doomed to die with. I am a firm believer in the saying that goes, “Life isn’t about how many breaths you take, it’s about how many take your breath away”, and I refuse to let this woman go for any reason.
I will, no, I promise myself that I will do whatever is needed to gain my freedom again. She is a concept, she sets me free, she is my muse. All will return.
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