Paths

As much as I love you and as much as I would want to, I can never walk your path for you.
But these things I can assure you.
When the path becomes dark and obscure and you’re not sure of your way, I will be there to shine a light.
When it’s cold and you are seemingly alone, I will be there to comfort and warm you.
When your path seems long and arduous, I will be there to help push you along.
When your path leads to a fork and you can no longer see which way to go, I will hold your hand and help guide you.
And when your path feels as if it has defeated you, I will be there to carry you to the end.
I cannot walk your path but I will always be by your side to help you make the journey.

A Little Longer

There is no such thing as permanent or forever in life.
Everything and everyone are only temporary stops in our journey to death.
Sometimes we are fortunate enough to get off for awhile and stay a little longer at one of these stops.
We’re able to feel a little longer, smile a little longer, and perhaps love a little longer.
But we are also able to resent a little longer, suffer a little longer, and cry a little longer.
We have to remember that it’s all just temporary.
We have to remember to not get attached to something that will not remain.
Nothing is promised to anyone forever because it doesn’t exist.
Being able to accept that this life we have is just a journey to the inevitable is the first step in letting go and finally living life.

A Chance at Misery

I can never know what tomorrow brings or if I’ll be here to enjoy it.
All I know is that tomorrow is a dream to me and all that a dream is are goals you cannot reach.
I try so hard to be the man that I want to be.
But I do so in vain because I know this will never come to pass.
It’s a curse really.
Wanting to be something you will never be.
A curse because no matter how hard you try, it ends in misery.
Misery because I failed.
Misery because I lost.
I lost the battle for my soul and for my humanity.
I lost this fight a long time ago but every so often I try to make believe I still have a chance.
A chance at an ordinary existence.
A chance at love.
A chance at hope.
At chance at life.
But the reality of it all is that I was not meant to love.
I was not made to hope.
And I was made to not live a full life.
I was made to hurt.
I was made to bleed.
And I was made to suffer.
And suffer I will from now until my dying day.

Her Beauty

I sat there swirling my whiskey around the tumbler. The ice slowly melted away as I pretended to be interested in all she was saying. I had been in this moment so many times before. So many times before I smiled and pretended to hear every word they would say. The reality is that I’d look up from my glass and something about each one of them would catch my attention. A smile that would come over her as she became nervous. Maybe a curl of hair that would fall across her brow. A slight curve in her body as she adjusted herself in her seat or crinkle near her nose as she laughed at something less than humorous I’d say. I’d fall in love with that beauty. The evening would persist on and I’d find myself contemplating the inevitable. But this time was different. It didn’t happen the way it usually did. She took the glass out of my hand and placed it on the bar. She looked at me with and with a corner of her mouth slightly raised she said “I know you’re not here with me. I mean you’re here with me but you’re not here with me. That’s ok. I get it. But no matter what you believe, it’s not your heart that’s broken. It’s everything else about you. Your hearts just fine.” That’s when I saw her beauty and that’s when I fell in love. When I fell into that insane, drunk, profound love that punches you in the chest. And that’s when I knew I’d regret everything I would put her through.

Into the Sea

She stood on the sandy shore, digging her toes into the sand and gazing out over the glimmering water.

It was that point in the day where the sun hadn’t quite begun to set and the moon was peaking over her right shoulder.

The rays of sun trickled down onto the water and seemed to dance melodically along the surface for her.

The tide had begun to come in and the waves started to lick at her feet.

As she looked down, the corners of her mouth raised into an innocent and childlike smile.

She closed her eyes and was whisked away to a memory of a jovial time long ago.

It was a memory of a time when the world made sense to her, and a time when her heart was at peace.

She opened her eyes and started to walk into the water with a controlled eagerness.

She resisted the urge to run and jump head first into the crashing, white, foaming waves.

With each step, she went deeper into the sea and with each step the world behind her began to fade.

She held her hands out to the side and felt the glassy surface of the water along her hands and fingertips.

It was a sensation that was soothing and inviting to her.

She kept walking into the water until it had reached her chest.

She looked toward the vast openness and could see the sun begin to disappear behind the horizon.

She closed her eyes once more and with a deep breath, she gave herself to the ocean.

As soon as the water enveloped her, she could feel all her worries and sorrows drift away.

There were no more issues, no more judgments, no more disappointments, and no more fears.

A quite serenity took a hold of her like a child wrapped tightly in a warm blanket.

She waited right below the surface until the very last second that she could no longer hold her breath.

She broke the surface and took a heavy gasp of air and began to laugh as she wiped some water from her face.

She stayed there, wading in the water for what seemed to be hours.

She never grew tired and she never looked back toward the shore.

When the sun had completely set, she turned back toward the shore and began to swim inland.

With each stroke, she felt the water caress the lines of her body and she felt at one with it.

She could no longer tell where she ended and the water began, they were simply one.

Her feet felt the sandy bottom of the shore and she reluctantly made her way back to where she had stood earlier.

She stood there as the ocean breeze dried the beads of water on her bare skin.

As each drop disappeared, so did her feeling of content and tranquility.

As the last of the water dripped off of her and as the sun began to complete set, she felt a sadness come over her.

She knew the sadness would once again fade, but she knew she had to wait until she was once again one with the water.

Defined

The agonies of life are the poignant moments in which we define who we are.

These moments are cast upon us as fierce and devastating trials of life.

Each one feeling as a disaster or storm we must whether to prove who we are.

Each moment is different from the last but none the less agonizing than the next.

They bring with them a barrage of feelings and emotions created to test us.

The flames of tribulation crackle as they lick at your heels, scorching our souls.

The winds of distress howl as they riddle your mind with doubt and regret.

And the seas of torment drown your heart with sadness and remorse.

We will be defined by our actions and reactions to all that is hurled in our way.

The measure of who we are and who we’ll become will be the weight of our character.

The calm, trivial, and joyful moments are the ones in which we compose ourselves.

They serve as a brief respite to the harsh and relentless agonies brought on by life.

We sit and lick our wounds in bewilderment as to what we have just endured.

And then with the scars etched upon our skin and hearts we await the next storm.

12,410

Lying alone he feels life’s hand caress his face. It strokes his cheek as to comfort and apologize for all it has done. He lays there feeling defeated and beaten down and cannot seem to muster the energy needed to lift his tired and weary body. There are no visible wounds or bruises, just a broken shell of a man that once existed. A man who, like so many men before him, had soared on the wings of dreams and had hung steadfast to the ropes of ambition. But like those men before him, he had come to realize that the wings he soared upon had always remained stationary and the thrill of flight had only been gusts of delusion. And the ropes he had clung too so tightly had been made of ash and had withered away many years ago. He rolls on his side toward the window and feels the heat of the sunlight on his face. It didn’t bare the same feeling as it once did long ago. The sun would come into his room and the warmth would echo in a new day. Everyday was once an opportunity for something more and every night the end of a chapter. Now the sun brought with it the realization that time waits and stands still for no one, and that each day, we grow closer to the end of our mortality. He sat in his bed and as he did every morning and he true hard to find a reason as to why he should even bother. He sought an answer and it didn’t come, but it didn’t surprise him. The answer never seemed to be apparent and he knew it never would be. He strangely was ok with that and had accepted it. He had accepted his life and what it was meant to be a very long time ago. He dressed himself and began his day. Another day to be added to the the 12,410 previous.

Struggle

 

Each morning that he awakes, he struggles to begin the day.

He clutches on to the tranquil solitude of his bed for as long as he can.

He is faced, each day, with a task that seemingly has no end in sight.

Every day he searches for an answer to a question he has never asked.

A question that is as obscure and as faint as a dream or memory.

Yet he continuously struggles to seek the answer to this question.

Every moment, every action, every emotion is defined by this question.

Because of this, he had no definition as to who he was as a man.

He searched for the answers in the warmth of the body of strangers.

He struggled to find the answer at the bottom of countless bottles.

And still he could never find the answer or clarity to the question.

The question soon became his life and entangled his every ounce.

He struggles more now than ever to answer this question that plagues him.

He hopes the answer will set him free and finally give him peace.

He has struggled so fiercely that he cannot see the question is so clear.

He has fought so hard that he has failed to see the question was he.

The question and answer have always remained the same.

He has struggled so hard to make sense of something so simple.

His quest became an obsession and the obsession blinded his search.

He felt alone and defeated by the question that plagued him.

His struggle was so great that he failed to see that everyone around him

Searched for the same question and answer as he did.

A Love Story: Part I

 

I’ve always been a fan, or a sucker depending on how you want to look at it, for a great love story. Not just any kind of sappy love story with a predictable ending, but one of those “touch a part of your heart you never knew was there” stories. I guess that’s why this particular story, I had to tell myself. It’s the only way I could and would be sure that this story would be told the right way. It’s not a story of ill-fated lovers that ends in tragedy. It doesn’t involve empires going to war over a buxom beauty. There’s no evil or vengeful plot where someone plummets to their death in the final scene. It is a simple story of a guy who was broken and had forgotten he had a heart until a gal came along and touched it, and it’s about a gal who didn’t have a clue as to how fiercely amazing and spectacular she was until a guy came along and showed her. I am not as talented as these two, so I can forewarn you now that this won’t be an attempt at an epic novel. This won’t win any acclaimed writing essays or prizes. At the same time it won’t become an article in a forgotten magazine lying around in a waiting room. But, what this will be, it will be the beginning of the greatest love story that no one has ever told.

As uncommon as this story is, it still needs a beginning and this is it. It starts off with the lives of two very above average people. What made them so above ordinarily average was just the fact they were unaware of how truly one of a kind and uncommon they were. What allows someone to have that true essence of innocent beauty or that desirable brilliance is when they are unmindful of it. That’s exactly what these two had. An innocent, blissful ignorance to how unique they truly were. Perhaps that’s why it always seemed as if nothing fit when it came to their lives, even more so when it came to that part of their lives which entailed love. They always had that feeling as if they were the left over piece of a puzzle in a box and no matter how hard they tried, or how hard others tried, they just couldn’t fit. They always had that bothersome feeling that something was unfinished or possibly that something hadn’t even had yet begun. Like that feeling an artist must have while he’s painting a piece. That feeling of not caring what others may think of it but also hoping they can see his soul through each stroke. Always trying to add one more line or wiping down a piece of the canvass as to get that one shade absolutely perfect. It would become a piece that the artist is putting his every creative ounce into because it is all he knows how to do. But unknowingly to him will someday become his greatest work, his trademark, his “Mona Lisa”. This is what these two lovers felt every waking minute of the day. It was a feeling of being complete and yet unfinished. A feeling of being deserving, but never being offered that chance. These feelings would be the force that attracted them to each other. Who they are as people is what would keep them together. And what they learn from each other and bring into each other’s lives is what makes this a truly phenomenal love story.

Accomplished

 

As the lines of experience are etched into our faces by time,

We come to the realization we are but human and will expire.

Life has a way of showing us a glimpse of our potential,

But quickly gives us excuses as to why we cannot achieve it.

Excuses that is as creative as the minds that conceive them.

We blame all facets of our lives without taking responsibility.

Seeking reasons behind curtains that we have hung ourselves.

We seek the answers to “what if” instead of the “why not”.

We are blinded by doubts, by failure, and by simple fears.

Instead we should be motivated and empowered by them.

If we could only see that we are the reason that we fail.

If we can only accept that the obstacles are placed by us.

Yet we cannot and instead lead lives without meaning.

We cling to unobtainable dreams in a sea of desperation.

We live vicariously through the lives of those who achieve.

And when the finals lines of time and experience are etched,

We will look back and ask “What did we accomplish?”

Broken

 

I’ve come to the conclusion that I must be broken for that’s what people believe me to be.

They think of me as broken for I do not believe the things they do or view what they see.

I don’t wake up mornings to a prayer or chant I believe will propel me through the day.

I don’t filter words that come from my mouth, but I do put my thoughts in all I say.

There is no glass that is half empty or half full that I use as a guide for me to live by.

I merely see a glass with water that I can reach for when my throat or mouth are dry.

They think me broken because I keep only a few within the confines of my life.

But I’d rather have only a few I trust than those who hide motives sharp as a knife.

They say I live life with no purpose for I have no long-term plans, not a single one.

But to those who have this to say to me, I respond “tomorrow is promised to none”.

My life consists of complex simplicities that have happened and those yet to occur.

I live life in the moment and not in yesterday or tomorrow for they are an obscure blur.

I may not smile on sunny days, I may not enjoy nature as a whole, but I do know content.

I may see things a bit darker than most but it doesn’t mean all I know is contempt.

What I believe in and what my thoughts and actions are base upon is all that I feel.

All my thoughts and actions are based on what I find tangible and what I find to be real.

I can’t apologize if someone believes me to be broken because I feel that I am whole.

I can’t apologize for not being something I am not or for not playing a certain role.

All I can do is remain true to my convictions and continue to live how I choose.

And for those who deem me broken, it is they who in the end shall lose.

The Ride

You have me twisted and tied like a pair of laces
Gambling on an uncertain future like a day at the races
Missing you constantly like summer misses snow
Unable to break away, it’s like swimming against the flow
Always on my mind, just short of being obsessed
Tattooing every memory of you on the inside of my chest
Waiting anxiously to see you like a lion set to pounce
Squeezing every last drop of life in me down to the last ounce
This ride with you is as bumpy as a car with 4 flats
But you make me feel more alive than the 90 lives of 10 cats
Like Alice, I feel I’m falling down this never-ending hole
But it’s all worth it because when you smile it’s like scoring a goal
I’m not a psychic so I can’t tell you how this fable will end
But unlike a wire hanger my feelings for you won’t bend
So hold my hand tight like you’re fighting the tide
We’ve already paid the fare so let’s just sit back and enjoy the ride

In His Mind

 

He sat in the wicker chair staring out the large plate-glass window into the busy street. He drummed on the white linen covered café table with his left hand as he rested his chin on his right. His mind filled with thoughts as he sat there oblivious to the world around him. He kept asking himself “What on earth could she possibly want to say that was this urgent”? In his mind he could only come up with one logical reason, and that was she was planning to leave him. That had to be it. It was the only thing that made sense to him. As he continued to think, he came to the conclusion that if she was leaving him, it would have been entirely his fault. After all, he couldn’t blame her for his actions or lack thereof.

She had called him that morning at his office and with a sense of anguish and sadness she asked if he would meet her at the Italian deli across from his work. She told him that she knew how busy he was but that she needed to see him and it was terribly important. She rarely disrupted his day at work and even then, most times she waited until he would get home. The sadness and pensive tone in her voice had left him unsettled and must have been because this would be difficult for her. He was certain that’s what it was. He was certain in his mind that she had made up hers.

As his mind continued to race, so did his pulse. He felt light-headed and a bit disconnected. His hands grew cold and he could feel beads of sweat starting to form on his brow. He tried to swallow and couldn’t. He could feel the sentiments inside him becoming overwhelming and his eyes became difficult to see through from the tears forming. He felt regret and remorse more than anything because he knew in his mind that he could have prevented this. He could have stopped this long before it began.

He had never mistreated her in any way. But he knew he couldn’t say in his heart that he hadn’t taken her for granted or hadn’t treated her like the woman she deserved to be treated as; and this in itself was just as bad of a form of mistreatment. It wasn’t her fault in the slightest. Somewhere between that day on the train when they first met and now, this very moment, he had changed. He had become someone different. Maybe a shadow of his former self. Something had changed in him and he was aware of it. He was under the false impression that he was doing this all for them, their future, and their dreams. But in that instant he knew he was wrong, and he sat there replaying every single time in his mind that he could have done things differently. Every single time that one simple gesture could have shown her all that he felt and wanted to say to her.

All it would have taken was a simple act from him. All he had to do was lift his head from his work when she would walk into the study to ask if he needed anything so she could see the love and appreciation in his eyes as he said “No thank you”. He could have told her how lovely she looked in each new outfit that she would wear, because it was true. Only she could make everything seem elegant and refined. When they walked into a restaurant, he could have put his hand on her back to show how proud he was to be there with such a magnificent creature. So every man there could see that he was the one fortunate enough to be with her. He could have left notes with his feelings written upon them in places she would be sure to find them. Such as on the windowsill where she would place her wedding ring, on the only occasion she would take it off; or by her brush on her vanity where she would sit and do her hair while staring at him with a smile in the mirror as he dressed.  But he hadn’t, and it wasn’t for lack of time or ideas. He simply had no excuse, no excuse at all.

Of course it could have been grander reasons behind her wanting to leave him. Maybe if he had converted the extra room into a studio for her to work in as she had asked many years ago, she would have seen how much he valued her and how much we loved her work. Perhaps he could have taken her back to that café in Paris where they went on their honeymoon. The café where when the check came he looked at her and said “Someday… Someday I will bring you back here and you’ll be able to have whatever you want and we won’t have to worry about how much it costs”. That day had come so long ago, but the return trip never did. He had forgotten all those vows and promises he had made to her; to love her, show her and remind her. To build her dreams and fulfill her hearts wishes. In his mind and heart he knew he had failed her.

There was no reasoning inside his mind. She was right to do what he knew she would. Just then, in a matter of seconds, his life with her flashed before him. But what was unbearable was the thought of what his life was before her and what it would be without her. He was unfinished when he met her. She had been the missing piece in his puzzle and had filled more than just a void. She had given him reason. She had become his greatest inspiration and most valued treasure. She had been his strength when any man would have been weak and defeated. She had given him the best of her and in return she had never wanted anything, just his love. Now he faced a future without her. A future that couldn’t even come to pass without her.

What kind of future would it be? He couldn’t see a day when he wouldn’t wake up and reach for a coffee mug and see her lipstick stains on the rim. He couldn’t begin to imagine those times when he would wake in the middle of the night and gaze at her under the light of the moon, thinking to himself that she was what God intended angels to be. He didn’t want to lose those times where they would laugh uncontrollably because they were unsure whether to strangle each other or kiss one another. He wouldn’t have the bitter taste on his lips from her perfume when he would sneak up behind her as she cooked and he would wrap his arms around her and kiss her neck. He was unable to think of a bed that didn’t have her body in it, her body that he had dedicated to memory both inside and out. He would have none of this and he knew it was he who was to blame

If he could only change how she felt. Surely she would allow him to beg. To plead his case was unbecoming, but he had to try. He had to be sure she knew all he felt was still burning inside him. There was nothing he would not do for her and he had to prove it to her. But what could make up for the way he treated her or the man he had become? What grand gesture could he perform to prove his love to her once again? No act would be large enough. No piece of jewelry, no bouquet, no gift could come close. He would tell her exactly how he felt. He began to put his thoughts together in his mind when he saw her come thought the café door.

She walked towards him. She reached up to her face and removed her sunglasses. She seemed flustered and there was no smile upon her lips. She took off her coat and dismissed the waiter when he came to pull out her chair with a soft and almost indiscernible “thank you”. He knew then that every thought in his mind was about to come true right then. She sat in front of him and looked down at his cup of coffee that was still full. She hesitated to raise her head. She turned and looked out the same plate-glass window which he peered out of earlier. Every sentence he formulated in his mind struggled to come out. Then she began to speak and he no longer could even think.

“I have to tell you something….” She began to say somberly.

“I am so truly sorry” she continued as she looked into his eyes with a look of heartache.

Just then he was overtaken with emotion and quickly reached across the table and took her hands in his. She grew quiet as he set his eyes upon hers and a look of bewilderment came over her face. He looked at her as he did when they first met. He looked at her the way he should have every morning they were together. He forced the words to part his lips and he began to talk through a quivering voice.

“You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing at all. It’s me that should be sorry. I’m the one who has failed you. I had forgotten what it meant to be your husband. I had forgotten all the promises I had made to you all those years ago when we were young so very much in love. Most important I have forgotten to show you how much I love you” he told her as he fought back the tears.

He rose out of his chair and knelt beside her, the same way he did in the park the day he asked her to marry him, and not once did he let her hands go and not once did he break away from her eyes.

“But I swear to you, that if you let me, I would do anything it takes to show you how much you mean to me and how much I truly love you. I will wake up every morning and regardless of my morning breath, I will kiss those perfect lips of yours. I will try to make the effort to learn to cook so you don’t have to pretend to like what I make on those rare occasions that I do cook. I will wake up early on Sundays and do the laundry with you like we used to do in our first apartment. I will remember that you like the way I look in gray when I go shopping for new clothes. I will make sure to make one part of each and every day special for you to remember and to have in your heart. I will remember to tell you how stunning you look every night when I come home and I myself am reminded of it when I walk through the door, and when I walk through that door I will remember that your day was just as hard as mine. I will become the biggest fan of your life and I will praise all the accomplishments you succeed in no matter how large or small. I will…” he continued saying until she interrupted.

“Stop” she said as she began to fight back the tears herself.

“Please, just stop. I was already feeling like the biggest jerk in the world and you had to make me feel worse” she said shaking her head as she smiled down at him. “I was so afraid you would be disappointed with me. I spent all morning running around the city and still didn’t accomplish what I wanted to. I came here with the intentions of saying I was sorry. Then you go and do this and you make me feel even worse. You’re a real ass, you know that” she said through a mix of a laugh and a cry.

“What could you possibly be sorry for my love?’ he asked her as he tried to make sense of all this in his mind.

“Our anniversary! I was certain you would have been hurt because I had forgotten and for not getting you anything. And then you go and prepare this wonderful, romantic and heart-felt speech for me” she said. “This is why I wanted to find the perfect anniversary gift for you. I wanted to get you something that showed you how much I love you” she told him as she reached for his face and placed her hand on his cheek.

“You have given me the best anniversary gift I could have ever asked for” he said smiling at her and reaching up to touch her hand that was on his face. “You have consistently been everything I could ask for over these years. There is nothing that I could have wanted more than that. Your love has been my everything and my salvation” he said softly as he pulled her hands to his chest.

She looked at him and after a long pause said “I love you. Everything I have ever done has been because I love you.”

He looked at her a bit more before he answered her and said “I love you more than you will ever know, but I promise you this… From this day forward I will do my best to show you just how much that is”.

He leaned over and kissed her and held her in the warmest and tightest embrace the two of them had ever shared. In his mind, this was the best anniversary he had ever forgotten.

Footprints

 

We all leave footprints along the paths we set upon in life.

We look back upon those footprints and reflect on the travels that have led us to where we are today.

What we are unaware of though, is that we do not leave just one set, but several sets of footprints.

Each set of footprints unique onto themselves as we are unique as individuals.

Each set of footprints we leave behind reflects one of our many characters.

One footprint for our family to follow, one set for our children, one for our lovers and so on.

One cannot expect our lives to be viewed in the same manner by everyone witness to it.

There is no possible way for people to perceive us in the same fashion or way.

Everyone’s perception of us is an individual and discernible view of who they think we are.

Perhaps the footprints start out as one set and come together at the end of our path.

But somewhere along the path we split off into different directions of the same life.

Maybe it was a lie we told someone, a secret we keep from a friend or just a moment that we are embarrassed about.

Whatever the cause or reason, it splits our character into another piece of who we are.

Do not be ashamed of any footprints you have left behind in the path you walk upon.

Embrace them for they are who you have become and have led you to where you are.

Be proud of them for they will speak the tale of your life and the person you were.

Never try to hide or sweep away those footprints because you would be deleting a facet of yourself.

Learn from them by looking back upon them and remembering where you were and how you got there.

Manage the people in your life by remembering what set they will follow and seek.

From this you will see that in the end those footprints will once again join.

And when they do, you will have come to your journey and paths end.

But not too far behind will be those who followed your footprints and will continue to follow you.