Sunday, December 28, 2008 at 2:01am

When the tears subside I will tell you a story. I will tell you a story of passion and of pain, a story of love and fear. I will tell you a story that will swell your heart with pride for love, and also your heart will swell with pain. You will be blinded by tears from your eyes, and washed in their flow. You will feel as I have felt. You will fear as I have feared. You will break as I have, but you will mend as I have not. Such a story can be told to you because your ears can endure it, and your mind will recover. But if I be told it my ears could not bare it, my eyes could not see it. . . my heart still could not take it. My mind would falter and fail me, as my heart would also. My eyes would drown me, and my ears would bleed for hearing my own wailing. All this would I suffer if I were told such a tail as I have to tell you. This is why, for such a story to be told at all, I must live it. I will never tell myself a tail such as this- and no other could conceive it. And so I live it for you. Because you so love to hear my stories. You so love to feel my heartaches. You so love to escape it all, in me. But I can not tell you now, not until the tears subside.

Dear 2008,

(edited for simpler minds. Disclaimer! This entry in directed to the year 2008 not to any person in it- I would never be so cruel.)

Well I'm up late again- i can't sleep anymore. Bad meatloaf i think. i'd like to finally put this year to rest but it haunts me. i cannot escape it in sleep- nor in work- nor in friendships. All that i have has been acquired this last year- and all I would like to have- yet lost again. That doesn't make sense. Oh well. Here's to 2008! may she rest in peace, as well as all the poor bastards she took with her. That foul wrench of a whore who gave men promise of love; that silver tongued used car salesman of a year that gave us hope for a brighter day, then snuffed out the light as we made our way; here's to that year that brought about life- and death- hope and despair- she gave us love, she gave us knowledge- she taught us of the demons inside ourselves, bringing them out into the light for all the world to see. She brought us down in shame and humility- and we torched our hearts with pride and resentment- we wallowed in the darkness until we were broken down, defeated, and so badly bruised; stumbling over obstacles put in our path to break us, we trotted on until we had no pride left- and then, as i lay broken and defeated, as i curled in a ball on the cold bitter floor, she flickers the lights some to taunt me- letting me know there is more than my fetal position- more than my arms reach- more than i will ever obtain because she has broken me down so. She seems to delight in the knowledge that she has held me down, tortured me, bruised my pride, broken my will, and blinded my mind as to what could be. She is the devil. So here's to 2008. There is no doubt that i am stronger for having survived her- no doubt that i know more about myself than i had the year before- no doubt that i have risen above myself because of this year- no doubt that i had to as well. So 2008, you may have saved me- you may have taught me a great deal- in fact, i am better for having known you. But (obscenity), i hope to (the man upstairs) i never see the likes of you again. You have been like a whore- and now that all the (another obscenity) is over, it's best we just part ways. - Ammon

Apart

is this it? I wonder. As the tears begin to fill my eyes, I can't help but wonder- it this when it hits me? I've held together so well, for so long. But now. . . It creeps up on me. As my eyes begin to water and my breathing is interrupted, my head aches from it all. I get terrible headaches when I cry. My jaw tightens and my neck goes stiff. All I want to do is sleep. But I am not tired. I would only dream anyway. Dreams are for children. They only shield you from reality- a reality from which we all should be protected. Maybe most of us are. That's how we survive. I don't dream anymore. I used to dream. But life. . . a life worth living- that's the dream now. Reality is when I am asleep. Nothing. No thoughts when I awake- no memories, no regrets, nothing. That's reality. But not mine. I think happiness is a word made up to describe an unobtainable phantom. We use it to describe what we don't have- to balance what we do against that dream. What a race we are- to have such a word as happiness. It doesn't exist in any order of things. It exists in the absence of them. We couldn't even know its meaning if it weren't for the fact that we live without it. So who asked to be happy? Who said this is not the way it is meant to be? The one who did such a disservice to man kind should be heralded as the greatest fool ever born. To seek something so vain, so deceptive, so illusive- even imaginary- as happiness. . . . I would like to know his name- so I can curse it. Damn the fool who enlightened us as to the sorry state of our naturality! Damn the fool who imagined this thing- this fairytale dream of life! May he rot in hell for having ever spoken the word! Happiness!? Please, don't speak to me of happiness- don't speak to me of dreams and fairies. Tell me of the world as it is. Take the blinders from your eyes and realize that the dream is dead. Only then could you even begin to know the meaning of the word happiness. And only then would you find yourself in a position to seek it- if it is even obtainable at all. Maybe not in this life- I have some doubt. But in the next, maybe. What a curse to the world, the notion of happy.

. . .

I’ve tried to write you- I try to message. . . But I can only look at an empty box where my words would be. After all, what can one say to the girl who has broken his heart? What will she hear? I love you- what’s the point in saying it. You know I love you. I miss you- I always miss you. You know that. Can I tell you I am broken? Without you- I feel broken. Or would anything I say just be a nuisance- a trouble to hear? I don’t want to trouble you. I just want to hold you. But I can’t say that either. Do you want to hear anything from me? Should I send this- or just let it be. Should I even dare write it for my own sake? Would you rather I say nothing at all- so you can forget me. Would you like to assume I am forgetting you? I don’t know how to. What more, is I don’t want to. I want to hold you. I love you more than anything I have ever known- or ever will. I have given all the pieces of my heart to you to hold. I do not want them back. They never come back in as good shape as when I handed them away. It’s best you just keep them now. Hand me back no broken heart. Give me back a whole one, or nothing at all. For what love could the shattered bits hold now that would not just seep away? No love at all. So I leave to you, with no obligation- my tattered heart. Do with it as you may. Mend it if you will. Treasure it if you like in a deep corner somewhere, where you remember me. Or give it away to someone else. Use it to shield yourself. Those broken bits have scares that are tough. They could make a formidable coat. My love. . . My last love has been housed in that battered old ruin; the roof's leaking, the walls torn, and the floor soaked with tears. I cannot dwell there anymore. Raze it down, and let it rest in peace. Pieces. . . Let it rest in pieces. I . . .can do no more there- not without you. But I won’t send you this. Don’t worry, you won’t have to bare the pain of me any longer- not unless you seek me out. Seek me out. Seek me out, and I’ll be waiting. Waiting to embrace you- with love that will mend that old ruin back to the mansion it once was, with all its many rooms. One for every memory made- forgotten now. Seek me out and I will find them again and dust off the sorrow of them- the sorrow of love abandoned. In the ash they have laid after the fires dwindle out. Only a smoldering mess of emotions remain. Would that I could put out the fires, if I knew they would only smolder for so long then cool months later. But I don’t know. So there in them I reside for now- sitting at the edge of ruin, looking in at the smoke rising from the ash of my hearts pieces. May it carry the memories with it into the heavens, where they can live out their fates. May it carry me too. I love you.

I was decided. I was done- done with it all. I was done with this state- for good this time too. I was going to just get up and go- find my own way, be my own person. No more waiting. No more wondering. I just needed to get out. Then a revelation. No. I can not leave. I need to stay another year. Why? For what? But I couldn’t deny it. I knew all to well the truth of it. I needed to stay. Another year. Six months. I’ll stay six months. Make it fast, make it clear, make it six months. Ok. Six months. I hate this state- I despise these people- I need something to keep me sane for the time. I decided to try my hand at school again- it will keep me busy- keep my mind off things. I took a loan. A loan I cannot repay. I don’t care really. If things work out, then I will care- but if they don’t, then I am gone. Gone for good. Loans don’t matter to me. Nothing matters to me- nothing but my responsibility to honor that which I know is right. I must stay. Finally, I feel a sense of purpose. I don’t know what it is- but it is coming. And I have a time to expect it. This I can endure. I said though, at the end of my patience, I will not seek it- make it clear. I was intending only to endure this time remaining- to hold steadfast to the commitments I had already made- and fall no further than I was. If I was to be more- then let me be more- but I will not go looking for it. Not anymore.
I kept to myself. I loaded on the classes. I was going to keep my head in my school and make an honest effort at it. Maybe this is what I have been waiting for- a reason. . . I am not a good student. It is too much for me. I can’t do it well and hold down a job. I needed to drop some courses. If I didn’t have to work I would be fine- I really would. 18 credits is not that hard- but my job wares me down too much. I wait a week or two to see how I am doing- but I can’t find the time to do my math homework. Dropped. That’s good. I can sleep another hour now. Good choice. A chance opportunity at another course just opened- same time as another, harder course; dropped. Another good choice. That lightens my load quite a bit. I need to drop one more. It’s a conflict. One, I know will be a demanding course- that doesn’t frighten me- I just don’t know if I have the time. And the other is. . . Well. . . I let myself get behind already. That makes that an easier decision. Dropped. That gives me time now. I should be ok with the hard one now- now I can just focus on school and work, and nothing else. Just when I think I’m all settled. . . Just when I think I have it all figured out. . . Something always comes up. I wanted to give up on that course- I wanted to quit. It didn’t seem to be going anywhere. But every time I got to that point of total disinterest, something struck me. It was intriguing again. And so I stayed. Now it’s to late to drop it. I might as well try. And once again, God put an angel in my life. This one is different. I see her different than any other before. At first, I admit, I only saw the physical. At first, all I wanted was that. But something deep inside me wouldn’t let me see her that way. Something deep inside me said “this one is special.” I couldn’t help myself but to see her with different eyes from then on. I was comfortable with her. She was a friend instantly. The first time we really spoke, was after class. We spent the rest of the day together. I instantly loved her. And I did not want to. She inspired me to be better. I wanted to be better because I knew, for me, someone like her was just impossible. She was too good for me- she is still. I needed to change, a lot. Damn love! I will not say it- I will not let it. . . I will fight it off! Damn love. But there is never enough time in a day. We cursed the sunset when we had to part. We cursed the distance that kept us apart. And in our hearts we secretly cursed our faith- our upbringing- our duties. We cursed the right and we cursed integrity. But mostly just the hours of the days, when there wasn’t enough time. Happiness is strange to me. I am happy. She makes me happy. And I made her happy too. She tells me she loves me. I hesitate. I don’t want to say it. Not ever. Not to anyone ever again. But I do, love her. More than life. I choke my pride and say it. I love you. We say it like it’s all we know. But those words are not enough. No words are enough, but ‘I love you’ is what we have so we say it. Over and over and over again we say it. Each time with new inflection, each time as if it has new meaning from the last. I love you. More than life. More than music. More than singing. More than writing. More than a summer breeze. More than the stars, more than the moon, more than there are grains sand on the beaches of all the shores in all the world, I love you. More than life, I love you. Nothing else matters.
I prayed for someone to come. Someone to love, and someone to love me. I prayed for someone who is good to me, someone who will encourage me in my goals and dreams. And he sent me you. I love you. And I know- I am meant for you- to save you.
I have been broken for so long. I have sought out every avenue I can on my own only to find I can go nowhere. I have been lost for so long- I do not hardly no where to turn to find my way back. I prayed for a purpose. I prayed for help. I prayed for a direction. He sent me you. I do not want to be lost anymore. Help me find my way back to the fold. Help me find strength. Let me borrow from you, your faith and courage, until I can find my own again. Let me borrow your strength, and in return I will promise you- I will not be lost again. I will make it. And all you sacrifice for me will never be in vain. I promise you I will stand again in honor and favor, and I will contend for you and your sacrifice for me. For you have saved me when no one else would. And you have shown me who I can be- who I was meant to be- and have taught me that I am not lost, that I can find my way back again, and that there is light in my eyes- no matter how dim it is now, it is there. And it is hope, courage, integrity, and love that I have forgotten ever existed. Forgive me the times that I have failed you. Forgive me all the times that I was not who I am meant to be. Forgive me my weaknesses. Forgive me for all the times when I am down an myself, the times when I don’t know I can make it. Forgive me my weak faith. Forgive me my weak mind. Forgive me for not treating you as you should be, like an angel. Forgive me all this. Forgive me for not being worthy of you. I am not worthy to hear your voice, or speak your name- let alone have kissed your lips. Forgive me for not being stronger sooner. But I am saved. I would not ask all this without fulfilling my promise to you- that I am found again. I know the path home again. And I would like to walk it with you. I love you, more than life. Forgive me.

. . .turn around.

The summer left me desolate. I had given up. I was prepared to throw this life away and disappear forever. I wanted this life to end, but I did not want to die. I just wanted a new life, one with a purpose. I needed a direction other than the one I was on. I tried desperately to create one on my own. Strike out! No! Not going to happen! I wrestled with myself. I knew I would just be back in the same mess as always, the same sad unproductive state that has been the sum of my years on this earth. I couldn’t leave. I could only pretend to be running away for short periods of time, only to just crawl back. What is the plan then? Why is there such a desire in me to run, to never settle; while all the time in conflict, I have an undesirable compulsion to stay the course; stay true to the right! Damn the right! . . . the higher choice, the responsibility. Who do I live for if not me? I’ve answered my own question. I want nothing for myself. that’s the truth of it. If I wanted anything for myself it would be far more peace than what is offered in this life. If I wanted to save myself, I would feel no compulsion to be responsible. Yet I do feel responsible. So much so that it aches my very soul that I can do little for it. What is you plan for me?

Summer of '08

(added dec 01, 2008 - after published)
And so I’ve come to it. She came to me at a time of isolation; a time when I had given up nearly completely. But not completely. That was just weeks before. I had given up, but it was short lived. What would be the point? And so I found myself back in the same state as I have always been. Alone. Without means to execute my goals, without means to do much of anything. Yet, though I was the same as before, I did have one new devotion to give me hope. I was determined to be more… respectable. And that’s when I found her. Again? I thought to myself. I want no one at this point. Just let me work and save so I can go to school and put this all behind me. This is what I wanted. This is what I needed. And yet there she was, boring her way into my essence. I could not escape her. And so with little cunning, and great desire, we introduced each other over a game.
I had a number now. Like something of a prescription, a prescription for the pain I have longed for so long to ease. But like any drug it runs a risk of dependence. I can see why people get lost in something like a drug. I had no addiction yet, but I wanted one. The risk of all the pain of it (love) wasn’t enough to out weigh the possible cure for my affliction. So I called it, that number; that prescription I had so longed to have filled, in hopes the it would fill a void in me. And for a time it did.
Time moves too quickly. Can not a man ever feel safe from its grasp? I beg it. I plead it. ‘Time please let me be. Forget about me and leave me in this moment forever. No one need know that you have missed one so insignificant as me. I could tell no one of it. They would only go on with you into the unknown, as I am left behind. Let it be so. It would only take an instant to satisfy for a lifetime. Or is it possible at all? Could I be unworthy of such a gift? Is it possible that another has been granted what I have asked? Were they better than I am? Or was I simply too late in asking?’

I was bored, at work and I was bored as usual. The pool hall was empty as usual, and there were few regulars to play with. I was burned out on the game for the day anyway. I stood behind the counter looking out the large front windows, waiting for something to come along. And then, like out of a dream, I saw her. She wore a green hooded sweatshirt. Green has always been my favorite color. It was an overcast day which only made the colors more vivid. She had dark hair and glasses. I watched as she rode by on a red bicycle, and said to myself "I want a girl like that- she’s perfect." As she passed by, all I could do was hope she might stop and come in. I say hope, but really I was dreaming. A girl like that had no business where I was to be found. I wished I was someone else; someone who she might encounter. I wished as she continued out of site. She continued across the intersection and disappeared behind the building adjacent to the pool hall. And just like that. . . She was gone. It was only a moment, but it seemed like more. I looked for a bit longer, but she was gone. I settled on the thought, then began to go about myself as I had before. But as I began to do so my breath was taken away from me as I saw her coming back around the corner. Again, my mind was taken from the dismal to the fantastic. Yet, again I watched her pass by, this time in a different direction, but still not in mine. I sighed, and thought to my self, “if I had a girl like that, how happy I would be.” I let her go again from my mind and continued on with my work. After a few moments I was stunned again. But this time she was here, standing in front of me. I couldn’t believe it. I, no doubt, in my disbelieving state stumbled over my words. She was stunning. For, I was stunned. She played alone. I thought to myself as I watched her (trying hard not to be too obvious about it), surely she is waiting for someone. But as the time passed I noticed something. She glanced at me, several times. Could it be possible? It seemed like she was waiting for me. A predicament. I find myself a coward for such things. I found excuses, I have plenty of them. But none were good enough. And just when I was wondering to myself how I might approach her, she approached me. Fate will prove, be it a lucky thing for me or not. I thought it a lucky thing for a while. Now. . .? Now I do not know. But I do know she made me happy for a while. And I needed to be happy. But happiness proved short lived. Soon treachery would tare its way into my life, turning all hope inside out. Despair set in. Should I tell the details? I wonder. Does it matter now what “friends” stabbed me in the back then? Does it matter what lies have been told about me? Does it matter, the opinions of fools and thieves; the opinions of liars and cheaters, rouges and misfits? Does it matter now, that a home was turned against me? That those who should have known, did not? That those who should have trusted believed the lies? Does it matter now, that a reputation of respect and understanding, kindness and truth, was repaid with lies and deceit; malicious behavior without regard, that defies understanding? Does any of that matter now? NO! But it does linger on doesn’t it? I had sought refuge in that place I had run to so many times in the past, only to have it overrun by thoughtlessness and inconsiderate behavior. It seemed all was taken from me. My home, my friends, my love. . .all had turned me out, save it were a few. But I found no comfort in them. The summer was the end of me. I no longer had anything to hold on to. Finally I was free. I just needed a destination. I decided to leave it all behind. I decided to give up on everything. I felt if I was to be lost and alone, that I would be lost to the world and go it alone. I took time. As much time as I could. But the feeling never left me. I was indeed done.