I… I fell asleep and missed the deadline. Am only very disappointed in myself. So, today I have decided to confine myself to being productive. To make up for my lack of it. There will be two (maybe three) posts today and I will try and build a stockpile of entries/posts so I can avoid this in the future. Here’s what’s on the docket today… Reminiscing…

I used to have this idea that I would wake up on a day in my past. Living my day exactly as it was, but with the knowledge that I currently possess. The lived experience of my life, but with a body that was younger. A fool’s dream. But to someone with as many thoughts as I have, it was a source of constant escapism. I would sit in it, allow it to stew, ultimately losing sight of my current self. It’s never a good thing to think outside the current moment. So, I worked on it. I tried to experience more, to run away from feeling good about the past. And yeah, it worked to a certain extent. But there remained this overall cloud on my person. When I went to therapy, I had to unpack a lot of shit. I stopped entertaining these thoughts.

However, the curse of being a writer (or someone who’d like to be considered one) is that living in your head is part of the job. It’s where you make your money. I am thinking a lot, trying to ultimately have a healthy relationship with my, admittedly, idealized version of my past self. If I could give myself in the past my current confidence, of course things would change. That’s a given. But honestly I don’t want to go back there. I think he’s such a substantially different person from who I am now it’d be like looking at a stranger. I am almost divorced from the physical body. But it’s the same one that houses my current spirit. So I’ll always have respect for him. Even if he doesn’t really matter to me any more. He’s still a part of me. So, yeah, reminiscing… It’s a bitch.

I just had a wonderful conversation with a friend (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nw_JWF4ZYq8). Essentially, giving me an idea of what goes into a relationship (platonic or otherwise). I’ve become really close to a few people in the last couple years. Before these last few years, I’d hardly call anyone an actual close friend. In fact, in this life I have been content to go it mostly alone. Something that I think isn’t healthy for the human psyche. And yet, I had that attitude. But when I started working, for whatever reason, I’ve made more friends than I ever did in the previous nineteen years I had been alive.

Let me weave you into this conversation’s context. We were chilling in one of my friend’s new-ish apartment. She and I are single right now (her for a month or two, me for… likesixyearsorwhatever, anyway), while our other friend is not. She has been in a steady relationship for a couple years now (in fact, we had just gotten back from having dinner with all of us and her boyfriend). We were talking about dating apps. Cause I have become a permanent resident who pays rent on those apps. I was telling both of these women why I’ve been in a place of single-dom for so long. You see, I had previously not understood why. But I made a connection to it.

I am the type of person you’ll see at a party, function, whatever. I’ll make a good first impression, I’ll listen, tell you stories. And you’ll walk away with this idea that I am a good dude, and hey I might want to talk with him again. But that’s not me. Just like Patrick Bateman (STAY WITH ME HERE!!!!) there’s an idea of me, an abstraction. I keep my true self reserved for my house, with family, or with a close few confidants. But very few people have been included in the latter portion of that list. For honestly, no reason. Growing up, I moved a lot. Often enough to where I never felt comfortable truly calling a place my hometown. For that reason, I never made friendships that lasted (this is before social media and the like). So I insulated, I became content with myself and only myself. And for that reason, I have been unable to give myself up to anyone, let alone a partner.

But you see, these friends of mine are some of the few that I have been willing to give myself up to. And yeah, they are fucking great and all, but I never envisioned myself being friends with them when I first met them. Which is weird to me thinking about it now. Because that is the exact reason I have not dated anyone. I used to think it was because I was unattractive, or that it was cause Arizona is not built for me. But no, it truly is because I am unwilling to give things a chance with a variety of women who have deserved it.

My friend in her relationship told me that she didn’t think her boyfriend was the one for the first few dates. But then, like the final piece of the puzzle, it clicked and the picture was visible. She implored me to go on dates with people. Try new things, be a new person. Will I do it right away? No, not at all. But I am willing to take that advice with me to the future. And I think it will work out.

This whole thing parrots this idea that I always remember when I was simply a lowly cashier talking to a couple during a transaction. The man in the couple simply stated: “you can’t force it, it will come when you least expect it.” And I don’t think you can write or say anything more succinct than that.

I have confronted loss a lot this year. I started the year losing a good friend to Los Angeles so he could pursue his career. I then lost my mind trying to finish school and secure a job. I got the lead role in a theatre show and it got cancelled. I lost my keys to my new car in Las Vegas (got them back thank god). I lost one of my favorite YouTubers to cancer. And recently, I have had to confront the possibility of losing a few friends. Loss is kind of at the core of my being as a human on this earth. For years, my social media bio said “Professional L Taker” because that’s who I was. I had to embrace my Ls cause I thought it made me a more humble human being. It’s not true. It’s never been true.

In therapy, I had to finally confront how fucking insecure I was about pretty much everything. The way my life has gone, my love life (or lack thereof), my appearance. I knew this was the case but I didn’t have the tools to properly address my insecurities. I just tucked them away in the corner, until I was unsure how to even feel feelings properly. The pandemic did a number on my psyche. But I took the plunge into therapy, and I changed a little. That’s all I asked for. A little change.

I went back and listened to Stevie Wonder during his “perfect run” in the 1970s. 5 albums culminating in Songs in the Key of Life. Considered by many one of the greatest albums ever recorded. It’s happy people music. There’s a joy involved in those albums, how can you ever not smile listening to Sir Duke. Deadass? It’s complex yet simple. It touches on the worst of the world, while celebrating it at the same time. It’s a perfect run of music. And now, I’m a big Stevie Wonder guy.

Loss has cut me before. Probably my favorite teacher of all time died in 2018. She wasn’t an old woman enjoying her retirement. She was barely out of her 30s and unfortunately passed due to life not being fair. I had always thought I had excised those feelings, but grief is funny. Grief reminds me of a chronic illness. Once its symptoms hit you, the best you can do is treat the symptoms. There is no cure. I’ve carried that weight for the past few years. But I guess I just had to reframe everything. So the journey continues! I will find ways to be a better me!