Three Epiphanies

I guess when I really ask myself what the problem is, the real-deep-down-problem, it is the concern that I will never again be happy. It's hard, I think, because with happiness, or the idea of it, comes all these other things. I have felt such pure and real happiness and I think that is scary, because it isn't easy to reach, or easy to get close. When I think of happiness I have this dark recollection that flashes, almost every time, and I mean dark in the sense that it was late, and I was almost sleep. I might as well barf out what I am thinking of. So me and this person are in their guest bedroom, the bed we slept in so many nights, the bed I lied awake in so many more. I was on my side of the bed, and this person on theirs, and we were lying close, I don't even really know what we were talking about, but I remember it had a serious, intimate nature as it usually did. This person was whispering very, very soft, a sound hardly audible at all, I swear most people wouldn't have heard a thing. So we are lying there, tired, and conversing, and I could not make out what it is exactly that the person said to me last. I ask this person to repeat it, and then again, the more angry and heated this person got so apparently, the more humorous I found the whole thing. By the end of it, I had to admit that I still did not know what words they were speaking, but I could barely say that myself, for I was laughing so hard. This person maybe found it funny in the slightest, a bit later, but told me to stop laughing, and I couldn't, I wanted terribly to prove how serious I was to this person, but I was just too happy to contain myself. The point of all this is that happiness to me is specific, and has to be such an absurd amount of genuine, happiness means that if my life depended on, I couldn't hold back my smile. Sadness comes simple, sadness comes easy, enough time alone, some time with people, watching a movie, doing anything. Sadness is created from thinking, from feeling, it might not even be created, just brought out, like it has been waiting, and I've been ignoring it, comes out strong. Epiphany number one, is that the fear of a lack of happiness, makes me really very unhappy, a lot. Please don't misunderstand this, though, I am not beating around the bush but really trying to say that mediocrity upsets me more than most, whose lives consist of only that, I am trying to explain that happiness is just ridiculously important to me, the notion of it, and most importantly, the awareness of it.

The second recent epiphany, which is actually much less... determining, was upon mulling over, yet again, my relationship with Nick. I will be completely blunt in regards to this realization, due to it being largely personal and complex on its own, ambiguity could only makes things worse at this point. It is funny to think about, how people tell me so often that I can gain nothing from reexamining past events, playing out what-ifs, and going through scenarios and even years, from another perspective. I won't argue with the fact that it is not frequent that people find peace, or come to terms with a situation just sitting there dwelling upon it endlessly. With that said, years later, with little change in anything pertaining to the happening, I have come to a conclusion that is not just massive, but massively... consoling, for lack of a better word. How the thought process began I suppose was when I was thinking about how Nick was definitely unhappy with his life much of our relationship, towards the end. He was insanely disappointed, lost, and disheartened by all things in his life, maybe except for him and I. Reality had struck him, and besides our relationship, all other aspects of his life not merely disenchanted him, but were visibly crumbling and collapsing. This is not to say that does not put a strain on a relationship, nor is it to say that it would and does potentially make that person not the best version of themselves, but our different, yet shared depressions were not to blame, I concluded. Subsequent to years of pondering over all of our dissimilarities, and all the ways we handle situations differently, this all has to do with our sameness. Our relationship was beautiful in the beginning, love filled, honest, sweet, gentle, careful, but I pinpointed the degeneration. Why does love deteriorate, when it is not flawed nor false? Our hearts could not love, not fully, not hardly at all, for they were mutually broken. The one thing in our lives that Nick and I esteemed and treasured more than our relationship, the only thing that we quietly wished would last longer, and we cared so much more for, was our friendships, and not all of our friendships, not just the important ones, but one. I was not threatened at the time by Nick's relationship with Brad, though I did somewhat wish to understand it better, I knew its gravity, as well as privacy, I knew we were pale in comparison. Now Brad and Nick did speak to me of each other sometimes, I would get bits and pieces of their sentiments, conversations or moments. Nick and I spoke a lot, and of a lot of things, but nothing, and not at all, contrasted by them. And while I did not often speak of my best friendship at the time, I did not hardly disclose any moments or dialogue to Nick, for my own reasons, it is likely safe to say that he knew, the weight, the severity. Our best friends were also in relationships at the time, though Nick and I both are not outwardly jealous people, not really jealous people to begin with. How our relationship together affected our friends, was much varied from how they saw or felt about ours. To cut to the chase, whether Nick and myself are to blame entirely, it was very close in time that our very, most important friendships were dying, slipping away. Our whole hearts and minds were consumed by this fear, then truth, and suddenly, within ourselves we began to mourn. We discussed with each other here and there about the goings on, but we were really writhing in pain, suffering so greatly, beyond words, beyond caring for anything else. At nearly the same time, he and I were struggling to come to some sort of terms with how this was, or attempting to fix it, salvage something, salvage ourselves out of this wreckage. I am not sure how much I place the blame on him, or me, I am not sure how much he places the blame on me, or him. We both could blame those friends, for giving up on us and the one thing of permanence we felt we could ever have. Nick and I were both so madly and ridiculously in love with our best friends, that one another could not dampen the severe damage, to our whole lives. We mourned for so long, no end in sight, at all, we were grieving a heartbreak neither of us ever anticipated could occur. By the time I broke up with Nick, we had been carrying so much agony and hurt, we parted ways, apathetic to our own situation, at very best.

The third epiphany is short, and not really sweet, because actually it is something that I am worried I can not heal internally. This idea, and actuality, might be a life long conflict, that hurts myself and others is a strange uneasy way. What I am speaking of, that people have made abundantly clear to me recently, is that I do not feel or act upon situations correctly, my sentiments are skewed, and rationalizations rather crazy. I think when I really noticed this was how twice this past week or two I have been stuck in my car, behind a car ahead of me that is in a conversation with another person. The car in front of me is stopped, and while both parties are conscious that I am sitting there, stopped, they continue to converse, barely rushed. Any other normal human being would be mad, maybe even furious, at the selfishness of the driver stopped ahead, they know that I am there, and ignore my inconvenience as well as (obvious) patience. I can justify anything to make me selfless, this sounds like a positive attribute in a person, I assure you, it is exactly the opposite. The first time this happened, I told myself that the people were in the middle of a conversation, I told myself that they were friends and so happy to see each other, and my being there had to break up this whole thing, I FELT BADLY. The second time that this almost same situation occurred, today, I watched two men talking, me stopped behind the truck, in the middle of the street, nearly home. I said to myself that the man outside the car needed to tell the driver where to go, their conversation was important, more so than me getting home, and it would be stupid of me to get angry, or try to drive around them, if I am only stopped for a minute or two. Now hopefully these examples, demonstrations of my 'understanding', say that I can turn any event at all into a chance to feel sorry for myself. I do not feel things appropriately, and clearly, driving obstacles are the least of my concern. I may be the most forgiving person on the planet, because I do not even accurately feel the resentment, or frustration in the first place, I love forgiving so much that it isn't only easy, but I had been ready to all along. It is difficult to describe this as an awful a trait as it is, but to say the least, it messes things up with a person if that person shoots you in the heart with no reason at all, and you still adore them because you justified the situation in a way that you knew deep down that you deserved to be shot. If you were to find each and every situation 'fair', socially, and actually in all aspects, it makes that person feel like shit, for getting what they are worthy of, and it often being letdown or betrayal. How disturbing, to accept everyone who ever did you wrong with open arms, and see all past misery or deceit as suitable. But the problem therein lies the fact that I cannot bring myself to feel rage, I can't get pissed off, and treat people accordingly. If anything happens at all, I feel sorry for myself and treat myself and my life accordingly. I just can't write people off, if I truly feel like I am scarcely worthy all the while. Everyone I love is better than I am to me, and every driver on the face of the earth has to be more important, because their lives must be of more value than my own.