Note: Written in 2005? It is a piece rather ripe with self-pity, but as it was done in a melancholy mood in a melancholy time, it is not surprising.
There is a saying that it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. I used to be a big believer in that. Lately, I've begun to feel this may not be the case, and that it may be more a hindrance than anything else. I've had many nights where I've met gals and between happenstance or a few drinks we've wound up making out, sometimes naked, and always with passion. These have been moments where for brief moments I feel a togetherness that may just be lust, but I feel somehow whole and complete. I've had several girl friends. Generally, they've lasted two or three months. During these times there are moments of great passion and extreme feelings. A sense of togetherness was there. I suppose there was no thought of tomorrow, or plans for the future, because perhaps a part of me felt that I had to enjoy the day. Perhaps I didn't expect a tomorrow, so I had to enjoy today because of a fear that tomorrow may not come.
I have been married twice. The first lasted less than a year. The second lasted six and I gained two wonderful boys from it. I have been divorced about three and a half years. In that time I've had a few acquaintances. I've made out with a few. I've had sex a few times. I had one girl friend for a couple of months two years back. Her name was Danielle.It's the first few weeks with Danielle I do. It was a time I let myself go. She did too. It wasn't that she was perfect, because she was far from it. It was that we clicked in a special way, like two gears in a watch. I felt like things were so right that they were meant to be. There was a deep level of comfort and closeness I felt. Perhaps this was just a faulty perception, but it was how I felt. Now it's two years later and I'm still waiting for another Danielle to come along. I misspeak. I'm not just waiting. I've been on dating sites since then. I've gone to the bars since then. I've had girls on the back of my bike since then. So, I'm being proactive, not just waiting. But still there have been no more Danielle's yet. Every night I go to sleep alone in my bed, occasionally in despair, but usually I forget about it all and sleep contentedly. Every morning I wake up with hope for the new day. There are no expectations, but there is hope. I seek love. I felt it for a brief time, and I want it back.
When I was younger, I used to climb trees. I would climb up higher and higher. Higher than anyone else. I was proud of that. Somewhere along the line life has a way of persuading one to stop climbing up that tree. I wake up every morning hoping the tree's still there to climb and hoping I'll find the courage to climb. If we're not running away from our demons we're pretending to confront them. Somewhere in between we might be lucky to pick up someone that allows us to share those demons and expose our insecurities, that our burdens may be lifted off of us long enough to climb the tree.
There is a saying that it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. I used to be a big believer in that. Lately, I've begun to feel this may not be the case, and that it may be more a hindrance than anything else. I've had many nights where I've met gals and between happenstance or a few drinks we've wound up making out, sometimes naked, and always with passion. These have been moments where for brief moments I feel a togetherness that may just be lust, but I feel somehow whole and complete. I've had several girl friends. Generally, they've lasted two or three months. During these times there are moments of great passion and extreme feelings. A sense of togetherness was there. I suppose there was no thought of tomorrow, or plans for the future, because perhaps a part of me felt that I had to enjoy the day. Perhaps I didn't expect a tomorrow, so I had to enjoy today because of a fear that tomorrow may not come.
I have been married twice. The first lasted less than a year. The second lasted six and I gained two wonderful boys from it. I have been divorced about three and a half years. In that time I've had a few acquaintances. I've made out with a few. I've had sex a few times. I had one girl friend for a couple of months two years back. Her name was Danielle.It's the first few weeks with Danielle I do. It was a time I let myself go. She did too. It wasn't that she was perfect, because she was far from it. It was that we clicked in a special way, like two gears in a watch. I felt like things were so right that they were meant to be. There was a deep level of comfort and closeness I felt. Perhaps this was just a faulty perception, but it was how I felt. Now it's two years later and I'm still waiting for another Danielle to come along. I misspeak. I'm not just waiting. I've been on dating sites since then. I've gone to the bars since then. I've had girls on the back of my bike since then. So, I'm being proactive, not just waiting. But still there have been no more Danielle's yet. Every night I go to sleep alone in my bed, occasionally in despair, but usually I forget about it all and sleep contentedly. Every morning I wake up with hope for the new day. There are no expectations, but there is hope. I seek love. I felt it for a brief time, and I want it back.
When I was younger, I used to climb trees. I would climb up higher and higher. Higher than anyone else. I was proud of that. Somewhere along the line life has a way of persuading one to stop climbing up that tree. I wake up every morning hoping the tree's still there to climb and hoping I'll find the courage to climb. If we're not running away from our demons we're pretending to confront them. Somewhere in between we might be lucky to pick up someone that allows us to share those demons and expose our insecurities, that our burdens may be lifted off of us long enough to climb the tree.
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