Monday, December 11, 2006
Everyone dies alone.
These things I will do, next time I love, and am loved in return:
I would talk about things that matter. I would want the person I love to truly know me, and where I came from. A lot of ugly things happened to me when I was young; A lot of ugly things happened to me later -- such is life. Sometimes I can be ugly. I can do and say ugly things. Sometimes I say them when I don't mean them; sometimes I mean them, at least for a moment, and should learn to bite my tongue.
I would participate in the little everyday things that mean so much more than a little:
Like listening;
Like being more sensitive;
Like not expecting my lover to be anything other than what he is,
And being my own person at the same time.
I would take him out.
I would do more nice things -- just because.
I would trust him; sometimes the hardest part is to trust and be trusted.
I told a friend the other night that I'm confused about the future. I had been creating these dreams, about this and that, this place I want to be, or with this job or education, blah, blah, blah .... And that, my friends, is hearsay from my own mind, for me to believe whenever I needed to.
The truth is, I've been alone for most of my life. Even when I'm not alone, I'm alone.
I dream up all these ideas in order to persuade myself that this is who I am, and I don't need anyone.
But my heart tells a different story, and no song or book or dream or words aloud can change it. It's reflected back at me in lines from some of my favorite movies:
"Everyone dies alone."
"People do belong to people."
"Anything less than mad, passionate, extraordinary love is a waste of your time."
And that last line, maybe it wasn't just about relationships and kissing dating goodbye. Maybe it was about life, because at this place in my life, it's hard to see a point in most things.
I have made a horrible mistake.
I have lost a great deal of my footing.
But the greatest loss is not the present one; it's something else.
Money isn't real.
A car and an apartment are things.
People matter, love matters, and everything else doesn't have to define me.
These things may not change overnight, but at least I've found out what is most important to me.
It is immaterial ...
If everyone dies alone, then maybe life isn't meant to be lived alone ...
These things I will do, next time I love, and am loved in return:
I would talk about things that matter. I would want the person I love to truly know me, and where I came from. A lot of ugly things happened to me when I was young; A lot of ugly things happened to me later -- such is life. Sometimes I can be ugly. I can do and say ugly things. Sometimes I say them when I don't mean them; sometimes I mean them, at least for a moment, and should learn to bite my tongue.
I would participate in the little everyday things that mean so much more than a little:
Like listening;
Like being more sensitive;
Like not expecting my lover to be anything other than what he is,
And being my own person at the same time.
I would take him out.
I would do more nice things -- just because.
I would trust him; sometimes the hardest part is to trust and be trusted.
I told a friend the other night that I'm confused about the future. I had been creating these dreams, about this and that, this place I want to be, or with this job or education, blah, blah, blah .... And that, my friends, is hearsay from my own mind, for me to believe whenever I needed to.
The truth is, I've been alone for most of my life. Even when I'm not alone, I'm alone.
I dream up all these ideas in order to persuade myself that this is who I am, and I don't need anyone.
But my heart tells a different story, and no song or book or dream or words aloud can change it. It's reflected back at me in lines from some of my favorite movies:
"Everyone dies alone."
"People do belong to people."
"Anything less than mad, passionate, extraordinary love is a waste of your time."
And that last line, maybe it wasn't just about relationships and kissing dating goodbye. Maybe it was about life, because at this place in my life, it's hard to see a point in most things.
I have made a horrible mistake.
I have lost a great deal of my footing.
But the greatest loss is not the present one; it's something else.
Money isn't real.
A car and an apartment are things.
People matter, love matters, and everything else doesn't have to define me.
These things may not change overnight, but at least I've found out what is most important to me.
It is immaterial ...
If everyone dies alone, then maybe life isn't meant to be lived alone ...
Labels: Love, Regret, Relationships
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