...and it makes me wonder what I can say, or whether I should bother saying it (if there isn't anyone who does in fact read this). Too many social networks out there to keep track of them all. I want a computer that works like I tell it to, not like it asks me if it should. But that's completely beside the point, neither here nor there. Not that I know where there is. Anyway. The reason I'm writing here is, well, because there's no one else to talk to right now. That statement makes it sound like I'm writing to someone, which I guess isn't really true. But I think there might be people who actually do read this, and if not, then this is just for me. Writing always tends to help or make me think anyway.
- Emotional Content Warning -
What follows contains a far greater concentration of emotional words than is customary for me. Should you choose to continue, your right to complain or remark derogatorily shall be forfeit. Consider yourself warned.
- End Warning -
First off, after writing and reading this, I realized how selfish my thinking was. There is no mention of the other person, and while I told myself this was to keep it vague, it ended up just sounding self-centered. So let me begin, before I begin, by saying this: I am sorry. If you read this, I know I've said it before, but I don't know that I can say it enough. I am so sorry for the pain, heartache, and frustration I have caused you. I only wish I had realized these things before it was too late.
There's a phrase, I have no idea how old it is, but if it originated when the concept it describes did, then I think it's been around as long as we have. It goes like this: "You never know what you have until it's gone." I used to discredit any cliche or stereotype I heard, partly because it was fashionable to do so, and partly because in elementary school I learned like everyone else that stereotypes are bad. But the funny thing about stereotypes is that people don't just make them up. Someone didn't just wake up one malicious morning and decide to spread the rumor that nerds lack social skills and a concern for their own odor, and by sheer random chance the idea took off. These sorts of things spring from a root of truth. Granted, society, in its quest for easy categorization or some such, often applies these ideas far too liberally, but the point remains that they possess a degree of truth. Now I know the aforementioned phrase isn't really a stereotype, but I've not let myself "talk" in days and frankly I want to, which makes you the unwitting victim, I suppose. I never said I'd be organized here.
Back to the phrase at hand. It is so very true. I guess I always have sort of intellectually acknowledged it, but I have felt its truth now down to the core of me. Never have I wept as when I realized what I had lost. And I realized all that romantic terminology was, much as the stereotype or cliche, rooted in truth. I truthfully felt physically cold as I walked from that house. Now it was chilly outside, yes, but I felt far colder than the temperature warranted, and it didn't go away even as my body sweat from the heater in the car. Something wasn't right inside me. It was more than the clenching feeling that precedes tears, for it persisted long past my shaking. For over a year I hadn't felt anything near this intense, but only now that it was over did I truly feel the magnitude of it all. It was crushing. It still is.
The nicest things about writing a blog are I can take all the time I want, and you can't see me.
This phrase is often accompanied by a sense of nostalgia, but more importantly a sense that if the utterer had in fact known what he had as he does now back when he had it, he would have done things differently. Most often this is said with regret, as the whole point is that he lost it. As have I. I have lost more than I imagined I could. I think I always thought too highly of myself. I always thought that while some bad things might happen, they would never get that bad, that I'd somehow get through life just fine, fortune and my own magnificence keeping me on the rosy path with little effort. Well my so-called magnificence has been laid bare to show the sham beneath, and fortune, while perhaps a happy little bonus, is not something to support any weight.
As much as I am tempted to sink into a wallow of self-pity and woe, however, I have a few things which demand I do otherwise. Firstly I have a God who loves me, and works even the most tragic events to good. I wish He'd tell me how, but I'm not really one to demand things of Him. Secondly, I have hope. This dark end does not have to be the end. I believe there are good things in store if only I'll do what it takes to be worthy of them. So that's what I've got to do.
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