here’s what i remember . . .
i have always been a rather solitary human preferring my own company to that of others or even an other – to the great discomfort of those that sought deeper connection to me
i have always been a distance maker – i left home early (sixteen or seventeen – couch hopping from friend’s place to friend’s place – sofa to sofa – even stayed at the congress inn off of highway70 across from northwest plaza for a while – paying a weekly fee i think – to be on my own . . . on my terms (to the degree that dependent independence was independence)
i have always been alone – even the primary work i do (lighting programmer) is me behind a board – alone (oft-times talking to the board) – making something for someone else to enjoy
here’s what i remember . . . at a very young age i tired of my own mind – grew fatigued with the self imposed exile . . . make no mistake i was out & about being young but that was not what i wanted . . . i went “home” alone & was (oft-times) lonely – not solitary which is an other thing entirely
i never matured to a place of acceptance – to an appreciation of the difference & similarities bewteen solitude & loneliness
i jumped right in to what eventually became an eighteen year long relationship which produced two beautiful humans all of whom – at some point – i abandoned . . . i created the distance i am so comfortable in (i toured nationally & internationally; i went away for long periods of time to work; to just be away; so many things)
here’s what i remember – saying good-bye & not knowing hello again would be so difficult that time would shape the chasm that distance would elongate absence’s shade into shadow that age would erode scabs into scars & those scars in time would fade into just skin without an interesting story
here’s what i know . . . i am older now (never thought i’d make it to forty-six – my parents would forecast my future from early teens onward as doomed to jail – i was a pain in the ass then & that has not changed)
age for me sprinkled my hair with grey & in some places silver some places white & oddly some places red . . . plus the damned hair on my ears (argh – age)
age has also shifted my perceptions, shaped my expectations & transformed my being in an unforeseen way i am only now coming to appreciate
i will never understand the choices i made then – now . . . never
i am however exhausted from the weight of grief, mourning & regret
the hardest thing for me has been learning how to hold what should be held & release what needs to be released . . .
it is strange to have a place that seems to offer some community but is, in fact, me alone – still
there is comfort in this – however trite – here, alone i have one thing with which i started this adventure . . . writing
after all this time to discover i never knew anything at all . . . that this is just a journey & i fell (many times) en route to this moment now (holding this phone in my hands – typing with my thumbs)
strange . . .