So, I have always been against this sort of thing. Recently, a friend of mine started this "blog" thing and it sparked my interest a bit. If he can do it, why can't I? Being naturally competitive, I decided to start my own. Share my thoughts a bit... since it's actually rare that I get a chance to say what I want, how I want to, and to anyone who wants to see it. So, let's give this a shot.
With this all being said, I'm making a promise to myself. I will faithfully write here for the entire month of April. My grammar may not be correct and there's a possibility I'll end up spelling some stuff wrong, but I don't care. My only concern is that I get to this everyday. It's a sort of... twisted therapy. If you stick with me, I promise, you'll land in May with a better understanding of why I do the things I do or why I act the way I act. If you decide that I'm not worth your time... well... screw you. Oh, and another promise - I won't be as negative as I am today... I'll write about uplifting things too... just not today.
I got nostalgic earlier...something that has become commonplace within the last few weeks. Maybe it's the Boston fog. The kind of fog that makes it impossible to see ten feet ahead of you, yet somehow makes the last 19 years of your life absolutely crystal clear. I think it's more difficult to look back on the past than to wonder what the future will bring. Some are scared of what's to come... I say fuck it. It's the past that I can't stand. I know it makes you who you are and all that bullshit, but as an absolute control freak, I hate looking back and finding things that I should have done differently. Sure, it's part of living and growing up, but if accepting past mistakes and failures defines maturity, then I might as well kiss "adulthood" goodbye.
This time, it was Aqualung that got me. Sometimes, it's a dream. Other times, it's a passing thought. This time it was a stupid song. A song I had to listen to all the way through thanks to the hot shower I was in the middle of. Usually, when Aqualung comes on, I am the first one to change it. I love them. I loved them. But with that melody, that familiar voice, comes the memories. Good ones. Ones that I'm not living now. And that's what kills me. The memory of the first. And, as a result, the memory of everything that follows.
It amazes me to think of the last 5 years of my life and look at all that has gone on. Who has come into my life and who has left it. And, more importantly, how those certain individuals have shaped who I have become. Cliche, I know. But there's so much truth behind that. Nate. It's where it starts. At one point, I was told that's where it was going to end. Who keeps promises these days, though? Not many, that's for damn sure. It's sad that at one point, my life revolved around someone so much that literally every single breath was that one person. And now, about three years later, the only time that name, that face, that love even crosses my mind is when my iPod is out of reach and shuffle decides it's about time to fuck with me again. I do surprise myself though. Now, I'm not mad anymore. I'm not happy about it, but it's more important that I'm not mad.
But then the what-ifs come into the picture. What if this happens to him? What happens if he regrets things? What happens if he does come out here this summer? What if I have to relive this all again? I don't care how juvenile I sound...when you love, and it falls completely to pieces in front of you, inches away from your reach, then we'll talk. I guess that friggin' Aqualung song was right... love does burn brighter than sunshine.
