Single In New York...
Lessons I’ve Learned.
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1.) When you lie to your parents and go somewhere/do something they would not approve of, you run the risk of getting into some kind of trouble. Resulting in your getting caught or forcing you to lie some more to ensure you don’t get caught.
2.) When you break a bone, it hurts.
3.) When a doctor recommends something (casting a limb, wiring your jaw shut, prescribing medication, warning you of future risks, etc.) you should always listen. They know what they’re talking about. (Which is why they’re doctors.)
4.) Whenever you think there’s no hope left… you’re wrong. Always.
5.) People can always be understood and forgiven. But situations don’t have to be forgotten. Especially situations that turned into lessons.
6.) The only things in life that cannot be erased:
a) The past.
b) Words that were spoken.
c) Broken promises.
7.) Family is always the most important thing. If your family is not worthy of your love, create a new family, we often call them friends when they mean so much more.
8.) Don’t ever pass up an opportunity to tell a loved one just how much they mean to you.
9.) A broken heart hurts much worse than people will tell you. You’ll never understand unless you actually experience it.
10.) Everyone should experience it. At least once. You’ll appreciate the love that much more.
11.) I’m not perfect. Neither are you. Don’t get too mad at other people who just can’t help but makes mistakes. We’ve all made our share. (Some more than others.)
12.) Fall in love. Every fucking chance you get!
13.) Try to forgive people for their past. You may have done something that someone else might not approve of.
14.) Express yourself as much as you can everyday. Write, paint, read, dye your hair a funky color, dress however you want to, get a tattoo, and remember just how beautiful you are when you’re being true to yourself.
15.) Smile. Everyday. Because no matter how hard things get, someone always has it worse than you, and someone would always “kill” to be in your shoes rather than their own.
16.) Be thankful for every single thing you’ve ever done and experienced. It made you who you are. Don’t regret a thing.
17.) When you say something about someone else that you wouldn’t want them to hear; There’s a 98% chance they’re going to hear it. So be careful.
18.) When you call out sick from your job to go to your favorite bar with all of your friends, there is a very high risk of running into your boss while you’re there. (Learned that one this weekend. Whoops!)
19.) Things that always change:
a.) Fashion
b.) Music
c.) Time
d.) Weather
e.) Technology
f.) Relationships
g.) The strengthening/weakening of your heart
20.) The value of your worth is determined by you, not by status, money, power, material things, etc. If you feel that you’re worth nothing, than you are. And trust me; you’re always worth a lot more than you give yourself credit for.
21.) Don’t let anyone make you feel any less than wonderful. Because it’s not true and they don’t deserve to know just how wonderful you really are.
22.) There won’t always be a tomorrow. But try not to think about it. Today is so much more important! Because if there is a tomorrow, what you do today can make or break it.
23.) Love is so much sweeter when you’re not afraid of it.
24.) Work is just work. It should never be your life. Your family, friends, experiences, adventures, lessons, mistakes, smiles, laughs, memories, heart-aches, and failures are what make up your life. Work is just something we do to make sure we can have all those other things.
25.) Trust your gut.
26.) Don’t even be afraid to ask for help. Offer to help others every chance you get.
27.) Doing what you love is so much more important than making millions of dollars.
28.) Try as many new things as possible and meet as many new people as you can. You can never have too many friends and learning new things, trying new things, going new place is an important part of life.
29.) Don’t hold in your feelings. You’re only hurting yourself that way.
30.) Always remember:
The sun always rises in the East.
It always sets in the west.
The stars always shine.
(Even if you can’t see them.)
Time never stops.
And it doesn’t rewind.
People come and go.
Just make sure you know who to keep and who to let go.
Time doesn’t heal all things.
But it certainly can help.
It takes more energy to be angry, than it does to be happy.
Try to learn other people’s lessons.
But most importantly:
Learn from your own.
Little Girl in Solitude.
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Childhood memories are lost in a maze that is the brain. A kaleidoscopic filing system where nothing is in order. Not chronologically, not alphabetically, and not prioritized. Some cabinets don’t even open. Keys have been lost for years. And I would imagine that the number for the locksmith is locked in one of those cabinets. Because that just seems to be the way it is.
Images are stretched and skewed and colors are accentuated. Even the lack of color is sometimes emphasized. Pictures are not filed like everything else, they float aimlessly, and as if without gravity, around and around in the cluttered space that I have been enslaved for too long.
*************
Not all the visions are real. Some are dreams, some memories, some thoughts, and some nightmares. Stumbling upon such a picture in my mind can often take a moment or two for the filing system to pull up archives on it. “Did that happen?” “Did I see her?” “Where was that?” A series of multiple choice questions frantically surveying database after database on a giant server of jumbled information until I can conclude when, why, how, and where that image came from. If it ever even existed at all.
A giant room filled with computers, files, paperwork, paintings, portraits, and digital images flying fast and slow in circles ‘round the room with no set course over the head of a little girl cowering in the corner. Afraid that the things she sees is all a dream, she prays that her photographic memory will not document the events and be kept with her always. Haunting her. What she does not realize; it’s not a dream. It’s her life. She will forever be trapped in what looks like an abandoned classroom. The door slightly ajar, windows broken, and a damp feeling taking over the air.
She does not dare leave. For fear that what lurks beyond that door is far more devastating that the eternity she has already been sentenced in the messy, chaotic, dark room, eternally lonely.
She curls her knees into her chest and fights with all her might to hold back tears.
The little girl deserted in solitude.
Circle of life.
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I will paint until I die.
I will write until I die.
I will sing until I die.
I will think until I die.
I will feel until I die.
I will breathe until I die.
I will love until I die.
I will mourn until I die.
I will cry until I die.
…Even if only on the inside.
—–
A new series of paintings I just finished.
“Sun.”
“Always.”
“Sets.”
The sound of silence. (An L and Calvin update.)
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As per my lawyer’s request, I have not attempted to contact L or the Ex since she has left my apartment for good. It broke my heart to think that there was a possibility that I could never see Calvin again. After all L and I went through and as much as I didn’t fully trust her again (yet) I was sad to think I might not ever see her again either.
I received a phone call from her (some time ago) shortly after she left and let me keep Calvin for a few short days in her absence. She informed me that she would be by to pick him up… permanently. It took a lot of strength to hold back the tears and lump in my throat until I could hang up with her.
Not more than three days later she called again. I was ecstatic just seeing her name on my caller I.D. I thought for sure she was going to move back in with me and bring Calvin with her. Or maybe ask that he stay with me again. But when I answered, and it was bad news on the other end; Not what I had expected.
“Calvin and I are moving back to Florida.”
“Is there anything I can do to change your mind? All of your friends and family are here. What do you have down in Florida?”
“Well, I’m moving back in with The Ex.”
My heart dropped.
Instant lump in my throat.
Sudden lightheadedness.
Lost.
“Are you guys back together?”
“Well, we decided that we needed to give it another try. Especially since we have a family together and a new addition on the way.” She neglected to tell me that part while she was living with me. I didn’t know she was pregnant again.
“Do you really think that’s the best thing for Calvin? Or you? Or another child?”
“I think it’s going to be good this time. He’s learned his lesson and knows that he can lose me and the kids in an instant if he screws up again. He’s really changed, Dean.”
She sounds so… naïve. Silly, even. The conversation didn’t seem real. Was she delusional? Did she really think someone (with a not-so-trustworthy history) could change so much in such a short amount of time? I suppose it’s possible… but probable? No.
*******
There was something about that conversation that didn’t feel right. It didn’t leave me feeling right. Was I supposed to be happy for her? Was I supposed to believe that he had changed? Changed for her and not for me? Was I supposed to think that Calvin was going to have the great life that he deserved?
I still don’t know what I believe. But I know now what I feel. I am sad for him. And sad that I will not see him grow up.
And I hate the sound of silence more and more every night that I sit at home and hope that he is happy and well-taken care of.
And I wait for the day that we might meet again.
…In A Perfect World.
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But she wasn’t always strong. She had to learn how to be strong. Because she knew no one would or could be strong enough for her. They never even offered. They didn’t even try. Just pushed her aside and left her to fend for herself. The poor little thing.
But don’t call her that. Not now. Don’t feel sorry for her! Don’t pity her or shed tears on her behalf. Because it’s too little, too late. She has been locked away in her own mind all alone. Where she was cornered and abused by monsters and demons. They tried to bring her down, make her into nothing. And keep her from moving on. And yet, she still closed herself up and stayed trapped in that crazy head of hers. And that’s the way she likes it. Because that’s all she’s ever known.
********
So when she breaks down and cries, it’s monumental. Because she doesn’t often let herself cry. Because they were not there to comfort her before, so they won’t be there now. Because while she doesn’t think other people are weak for crying, she thinks she is if she does it. Because no good can come from tears. Just dried up eyes, running noses, and wasted energy.
So when she pushes you away (if she hasn’t already, she will) it’s because she’s so scared she doesn’t even know what to do with herself. Because she knows if she doesn’t push you away she will have to open up to you otherwise. And that’s not something she likes to do. Because that means that you see it all, hear it all, know it all. The good and the bad. The logic and the chaos. And she fears that there’s more bad than good.
And pushing you away before you walk away hurts a lot less in the end.
Because walking away is sometimes the worst thing you can do to her. Because it’s all too familiar. Too familiar to that little girl inside who will secretly never get over it. Something she wishes she never experienced. But has experienced it more times than she can count. And she doesn’t know how many more times she can take of it. Before she loses it. Loses it all. And really can’t go on anymore.
Walking away from her and leaving her behind helps her justify the act of pushing people away. An art she has mastered over the years. Something she does not take pride in, will not always admit, but a crime she commits on a regular basis. Like clockwork. Yea, she’s that predictable.
Don’t feel sorry for her! She doesn’t need it. It will get her nowhere. She has made it this far without your pity and sympathy. And she will make it even further. Just to prove to them how strong she is. How much she has done, can do, and will do all on her own.
*******
Sometimes she feels comfortable in her own skin. Enough to admit this major flaw. (And other flaws. Because she has many.) Sometimes she’s sick of running and hiding from people who want to be there for her. She gets tired of pushing people away and feeling alone.
And in a certain world, a perfect one, she feels naked bearing her heart and soul on the table but not too naked where she needs to run away.
The Anti-Shoe.
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The grass blades tickle between my toes and remind of what it was like to be a kid and carefree. Sometimes they’re cold and wet and I imagine that walking on clouds wouldn’t feel much different.
The streets are flat and hot and warm my entire body with every single step sending chills up and down my spine as my feet adjust to the new temperature. What I love more than walking on a warm street is running down it. It’s almost therapeutic for me.
Something magical happens when I wander the sandy beaches. My feet pressing firmly into the soft, tiny grains of sand with hints of broken shells scattered about sometimes digging into the bottoms of my heels reminding me that not everything is perfect, not even the beach, but it is all stunning. Sharp shells or not.
*******
Months ago, as I was departing a birthday party some twenty blocks from my apartment I commented to a friend how much my shoes were killing my feet. I mentioned that I was looking forward to just taking my shoes off, letting my feet breathe, relax, and enjoy the night as much as I was.
“The sacrifices we make for fashion” was her response. It didn’t make sense to me. I want to feel beautiful, but I want my soul to feel beautiful too. And bare feet do that for me. As she and I were headed towards the door, accompanying each other on a walk to the nearest subway I removed my strappy heels, the ones I bought specifically for that dress, because they belonged together in a world where shoes and clothes should be married for all eternity. Fashion soul-mates.
“You’re crazy! You can’t walk through the upper east side barefoot. You have no idea what you might step on.” And she was right. There was no telling what objects my feet might encounter on the busy sidewalks of Manhattan (both visible and undetectable). But as dangerous as it was, I couldn’t resist the temptation to allow myself to feel free.
As we made our way the four and half blocks to the nearest subway I smiled at the thought of the cool, cement sidewalk my bare feet were pounding against. Every step was more refreshing than the last and I wished that my journey could go on forever. Passing hundreds of other pedestrians, not one even batted an eye as my shoeless feet strolled down avenue after avenue. My friend, on the other hand, couldn’t help but shake her head at what she perceived as insanity. (I don’t necessarily blame her. But I did it nonetheless.)
Feeling the sandpaper grips on the balls of my feet as I made my way down the subway staircase I wondered what the subway floors would feel like. Anxious to learn if it would be cold or warm, I lightly jogged down the steps and leaped onto the platform.
The floor was cold and smooth and I found myself lost in thought. Was it from the air conditioning that was pumping to relieve it’s passengers from the heat that suffocated the city on that still August night?
*******
I smiled serenely the whole way home.
Barefoot is bliss.
–Note–
It was not the safest thing I have done in my life. And I do not recommend it. I as lucky enough to make it home fungus and disease-free. Please do not attempt.
