Wednesday, August 10, 2005

This strangely hit a nerve

Greg the Boyfriend: The poisoning of the mind.

I'm not one hundred percent sure why. But I have an itchy idea in the back of my head. A culmination of recent-ish events (the moon, a wedding, conversations with parents over the years, my own inner-biological clock, my fears, my mental health up/down, my genes, how I've been digging watching kids play over the last two years at work, lack of dating [why and what it means], how I've changed [not completely] my "standards" when checking out women, and God-only-knows what else) probably led me to this post to which I've linked; a series of Winding Paths, narrow Dead Ends, and glimpses through the Heavy Black Trees, but no clear way through to the Other Side. The Blue-haired Demons are to blame, in part, for my not being at the Milestones I thought I'd be passing, achieving by now when viewing The Future from the time of My Youth. Youth is wasted on the Young. Youth is especially wasted on the wasted, low-self esteemed, shy, sheltered Young.

I've seen some city's/people's Underbelly, but only from a semi-safe distance. I've never fully dove into the Weirdness of Youth, not as deep as I always wanted to plunge. And, for fuck's sake, never alone. In some cases good (it's good to have friends backing you up when the Screwheads and Fuckos mess with you...thanks B.C.), but in some cases bad. Bad in the sense that through all these years, I feel like I haven't Experienced these years, I didn't develop and learn Needed Lessons. I'm stuck in some kind of arrested development around the age of twenty-five trapped in a thirty-four year old body. And that miss-mash of ages is still a wasted, low-self esteemed, shy, sheltered Youth (with aches and pains). All talk, no action. The Risks Never Taken (the ones that count) add up, snowball into a massive Ball of Regret that sits heavily in the pit of my gut, which rolls around inside all these years, stirring up Guilt that kills something inside necessary to progress to the Next Level of Me, the True Me I see in dreams during the night and day.

And with the Guilt comes its partner Fear. Together, they make you hide, cower. You start self-sabotaging. You become afraid of succeeding. You talk yourself out of doing things you Know you should do, things that you'll benefit from doing (Successful or Failing, either way, the Experience is important): applying for that job, asking that woman out, going somewhere you've never seen, telling someone "no" or "yes," or whatever, a million situations. You fall into a Hole, look above to the sky, sniff the air occasionally, and sense that the tear on your cheek is twinkling in the sun or moon light shining down from, oh so high, above. After so long, all you can do is claw at the cold cold mud of the Walls, trying to keep your head above the rising black waters seeping into the Hole from below.

I guess, like Greg, I freak out, but only because TV, movies, writing, and media has told me to freak out. That, and the fact I am broke as hell and convinced myself YEARS ago that I do not want children; I fear passing these genes that causes mental pain sadness no interest in Life shyness self-hatred physical ugliness self-doubt down to a pure, innocent baby. Let the curse stop here, within my skeletal frame and soul.

But then: I look at some of my friends, married and/or married with kids, and I think, "that's not so bad." And I think, "maybe..." And then I do something stupid and realize I am mature enough to know I am not mature enough to do that. And am a lazy, selfish Bastard.

But I talk to women, and I hear their questions. I know, in part, we're just talking, getting to know each other, passing time. But sometimes it comes across like An Interview. And I suck at interviews, proven time and time again. They "see" the Potential I am "wasting." I've heard that downturn in their voice, that subtle click of disappointment when I honestly answer, "I don't know." I fail the Interview. Every. Time. But I don't want to lie.

Should I fudge my "resume"? Everyone does, right?


"Just someone who we get along with who will treat us right." That's the bulk of what I'm looking for in a relationship. Someone who makes me smile, and who gets my humor. Someone who, in a crowded room, looks at me with big round eyes and sees me. And when I look at her, we speak a thousand words only we can hear. In one gaze, agree that it's time to go and curl up within each other. Lose each other in each other's lips for an Eternity. Till Death Do Us Part.

2 comments:

The VelvetHellvis said...

In response to that last paragraph, that's what we all want. I was married for almost ten years. It's good and it's bad. It's not easy. Finding someone you fit with is far harder than being married though.

Mac said...

Ah, man, I'm gonna be THAT guy, at the end of the bar, mumbling into his drink, going home to Lilly (*sigh* the cat). :-)