This is what love is - This is why cheating does not equal it

I’ve never been one to partake too heavily in Facebook; at least not in the latter years of my 20’s where my naivety began to become overshadowed by wisdom more-so than stupidity. I’ve got so many other things to constantly work on that I typically end up feeling like it was a complete waste of time, but I recently liked a page titled ‘Intelligence is Sexy’ that randomly popped up one day after randomly scrolling down my news feed. The admin has a beautiful knack for putting up strings and strings of life-relatable postings dripping with wisdom, words of encouragement, positivity, and outrageously valuable lessons. I also admittedly admire some of the poetry that’s able to bring me such a heavy dose of nostalgia. Some of those verses make me feel more understood than any person that I’ve ever spoken to.

They posted an article from IHEARTINTELLIGENCE.com titled ‘If you cheat on someone, then NO, you do not love them,’ with their own description alongside of it saying, “True love never involves cheating. It's time to stop lying to yourself, and admit the truth.” Naturally, tons of people commented claiming things from agreeing with the article, to disagreeing with it, all while many (I repeat, MANY) individuals that we live alongside of on this earth attempted to justify the act of cheating, unfaithfulness, and infidelity for more reasons than I care to count.

After stating my opinion on the matter over people trying to justify it, as well as over the idea and fact that if you cheat then you do not love that person that you are cheating on (along with an in-depth explanation about this for a certain person who could not seem to grasp the idea), I received a response from another individual claiming that it’s not simply black and white like that, and that cheating, unfaithfulness, and infidelity does not necessarily depict a person’s lack of love for their partner - blah, blah, blah. Surprisingly, she was kind within her response, which I do sincerely appreciate. It’s laughably become rare when people on social networking sites (or the internet, period) don’t have some sort of superiority complex and actually speak to you with consideration. Especially when they are disagreeing. But despite all of that and her kind nature, ultimately, when we come down to the core of it, she still is wrong – plain and simple.

I felt that I would share this in the hopes that it is able to reach anyone who has never been able to understand (or even begin to comprehend) the aspects of dedicated and devoted emotions that come naturally with an incorruptible love. As well as to act as a reminder to all of those out there who do understand it and live by it in real-time every day that you are not alone, and to keep that brilliant mind of yours confident and at ease in your efforts. Moral intelligence naturally brings with it responsibility, and moral responsibility can be exhausting – sometimes uncontrollably exhausting. And more times than not, we are not awarded for the efforts behind it. I’ve learned to accept this and have made peace with the idea that acting on moral intelligence does not automatically warrant us the same in return, because no matter who you are, the world will not just give that to you. No matter your stance on the subject of cheating, if there is any lesson that we can all probably agree that we have learned in this place, it is that not everyone can or will act fairly, accordingly, or decently towards us – even if we have acted that way towards them. With that being said, it creates gray areas for good people to turn bad. It creates empty trails and paths for souls to wander off in during their times of darkness that lead to voids and places that they will never be able to come back from. We are all broken in one way or another; some are more broken that others. And the emptiness that comes along with these more severe cases is insatiable, and these people will lead you into emotionally terrible places with terrible outcomes in a vain effort to fix themselves. The ending result? Distortion in that misled person’s morality. Fortunately for me, I have always found comfort in helping others, even if it’s at a fraction’s worth of .01%. So through learning my place and realizing the fact that simple, moral intelligence and moral actions do not deserve awards (for merely acting how I should have in the first place), I have been able to constantly remember why it is worth it to stand out in a crowd with all eyes on me, standing up for what I know is right in regards to a subject such as cheating: Because I will always remember the worth of being a lighthouse for those who are lost – even if that light shines briefly and momentarily for them. I would rather be a signal pointing them in the right direction as opposed to the dark taking them where they are not meant to go, and if needed, a place to stay to temporarily escape their storms. For those of you out there living this too, be proud of yourself that you are strong enough to own this intelligence and to stand beside it and to fight for it. If there is anything to be proud of in this day and age, it’s that.

So this is what I had to think about it all as a whole, and this is what I had to say about the subject. Here is my response to her, word-for-word, as well as to the rest of them. This is what love is, and why cheating does not equal it:

“At this point, this pisses me right off too, David. I’ve got a lot to say about this. Hopefully no one complains about the length of it. We are on a page titled ‘Intelligence is Sexy.’ A little reading shouldn’t deter anyone if that’s the truth about how they feel.

Stefanie, first thing is first: I will never “jump on you” or anyone else that has the decency to reply with the underlying respect that your message carries, despite our differing views. I see it, I recognize it, and I appreciate it, sincerely. Don’t doubt that. I don’t like to take part in the typical internet ‘slug-fest’ mindset that most people resort to or choose to take from the start, so thank you for having the decency to do the same and share your opinion gracefully.

To start, I’m truly sorry about your misfortunes with your husband and the relationship that you and he had, and I’m especially sorry for the lack of relationship that you ended up having in the end. I’m sorry for his trials that took him to that state as well - there are some pains in this life that are so great that they just do not have a timeline, and they never completely fade, and some even hardly fade at all (although it does not, and never will excuse his resulting behavior). What you went through and consequently still feel to a degree is without a doubt, an absolutely horrible thing for anyone to have to endure, and I hate the idea that you, or any other undeserving individuals, has already had to and/or may have to go through it in the future, and my heart goes out to you for that. Holding out for ten years is a very long time, and a very, very commendable thing. There aren’t many people in this world that have formed a love so strong that incredible patience and devotion like that grows alongside of it as well. Props to you, girl. But I have to be honest: And as much as I hate to say it although I could be (and hopefully for your sake are) wrong, it sounds like its left you feeling empty, like it would to anyone in their right mind. As it naturally would to me and any others, it sounds like it left you feeling like you were lesser and inadequate; like you weren’t enough, like you didn’t do enough, like you didn’t try hard enough, and perhaps like you still aren’t enough. Like you didn’t know how to say the things that he needed to hear when you always could find the words before, like the emotions inside of you weren’t strong enough or mattered enough to reach him or shake him or change him like they always could before. Like your attempts only bounced off of a shell that used to welcome everything that you had to say and everything that ran through your mind, who also strived to provide you comfort and a sense of belonging and safety. Like your heart simply lost its validation, its meaning, its power, and its importance towards him. And ultimately, like you just didn’t know how to save the relationship which was something that was so strong and ran so deep into your soul, that you never imagined that it would need ‘saving.’ All of this and more, despite your devotion and an endless amount of love that could fill the sky and the oceans. And if it truly played out the way that you described it, well then all that I have to say to that is, simply put, despite the hindrances that may place themselves between you truly believing it – the reality to the situation is that you were enough, and you still are enough; you did enough, and you loved enough. You knew what to say, he just forgot how to hear it, and why he needed to. Your love didn’t lose its meaning, he just regressed and no longer could honor it like you deserved. Your attempts weren’t in vain, there is just no way that he could have provided you that comfort of acknowledgement of wanting to change if he couldn’t even provide it to himself – just like loving someone else correctly requires loving yourself correctly. Your heart didn’t lose its validation, he lost his ability to see it cry out; it didn’t lose its importance, he forced indifference and just rejected it every time it faced him. You knew how to save your relationship - it requires patience, understanding, compassion, and effort just like you applied - he just didn’t know how to save himself, let alone what you and he had. A man that is truly ready, correctly devoted, and wise and educated enough to maintain a lasting relationship will not push away who he loves as his partner just because he’s lost someone else that was close to him. You were his safety net, not this disposable thing to walk all over simply because he found himself in pain, and I’m sorry that he treated you that way. His foundation was faulty, so what you built together in time, collapsed.

I’ll briefly digress here with a bit of a rant that is not specifically directed at you, especially its underlying frustration: My stepfather and biggest father figure committed suicide when I was fifteen years old; forward, I know, but there is a point to bringing it up. Simply put, he put me on the path to be who I am today. If he upset my mother, he sat down with me at the edge of my bed before I went to sleep for the night and apologized to me for upsetting her. After all, she was my mother, so if it upset her, it upset me too. He would explain why what he did and/or said hurt her, why it would hurt other women, why it was wrong, and why I should never be that way, or act ungracefully in those manners. And if I slip up and do that, that it was my duty to regain my footing, to act like the man that I am supposed to be and to recognize my wrong doings, make peace with the fact that I will convictively not do it again, look that woman in the eyes, and apologize sincerely to her because anything less would be nothing but unfair to her; I was taught to fix something if I broke it. I was taught to do your best to communicate with her and ensure that that woman does not walk away from you until she is reassured in your love for her and your respect for her and your relationship.

He would sit down with me and tell me stories about his former dreams and goals, places he wanted to go, mountains he dreamed to climb, rivers he wished to one day fish, parts of the US that he longed to camp in, the space shuttle that he dreamed to be in one day as it left this Earth. When he spoke about it all, his eyes were as wide as I ever remember them being aside from when my mother was in his line of sight, and he spoke with such excitement that his optimism was contagious, and I could hardly fall asleep after he left because it left me so excited for my next day in my life. One night, his demeanor shifted, and he began a story about how a coworker of his at the Space Center returned from vacation and then employment leave after he went off to climb some mountain somewhere in the world. The trip took an unfortunate turn and his coworker returned having lost a few fingers from frostbite, while suffering some other issues trying to scale that mountain, along with enduring moments where he questioned if he would make it back or not. When my stepdad asked him why he wanted to go in the first place, the coworker replied that it was a dream of his. He explained how he had always wanted to go and that climbing was a long-time passion of his. So my stepdad accepted the answer and didn’t pry because he didn’t want to overstep his boundaries, but he said that his coworker continued on, “I don’t know why though.” Puzzled, my stepdad said that he asked him what exactly he meant. He continued and explained that, “Nothing that he needed was there.” That he had spent so many years pursuing his passion for climbing that he displaced it from where it really belonged in his life’s prioritized list. That he left and went there to be challenged and to win, and came back defeated and having lost. That he came back wondering why in the world he felt that he needed to do that, when everything that he wanted and truly needed was at home – his wife, his children, and his life. He spent years already pursuing his passion, and he knew the risks of what he was doing, but didn’t apply the critical thinking to ask himself what might happen if those risks became a personal reality. He left thinking that he would return unscathed and on top of the world, but that wasn’t the case for him – he came home bruised and broken. He came home and suddenly his hands didn’t fit into his wife’s like they used to, or his kids’ like they used to. He couldn’t pick his youngest up without pain shooting throughout. Throwing things, like a football, now had extreme limitations. He questioned his career’s future because of the hindrances that he now faced, and ultimately, his families peace and well-being. He was convinced that his wife looked at him differently, even if she didn’t. He felt that he became more of a burden to her, and to his children, because at times he needed help with simple tasks when he never did before. He felt that he put something so miniscule in comparison to his family before that family, and although he understood personal dreams and goals, he simply just took a risk that was no longer worth taking. He would rather not have scaled ten more feet of that mountain, but just held his child even ten more seconds without the physical pain that it caused. He would rather not have spent hours celebrating reaching the top, but hours just holding his wife the way that he used to be able to, while she looked at him all of the ways that he swore she used to. He would rather not have said to them, “I love you, and I’ll see you soon,” but rather, “I’m not going anywhere,” instead. My stepfather looked at me and told me that there are some things in this life that are better than anything that you can dream up for yourself; things that easily conquer any selfish wants or dreams that we have for ourselves, and that these things are meant to be recognized and protected if we’re lucky enough to find them. And that man looked at me and told me that that is exactly what he found in my mother, and her three children, and he proved it every, single, day. His love for her, and her love for him, is unrivaled by anything I’ve ever seen.

Ultimately and years down the road, we learned the hard way how much that he loved to a fault, and it became the death of him. Was it selfish of him? Yes. Contradictive? Not with his reasoning. Can I understand or at least comprehend why? Yes, and I’ve forgiven him. Loving someone else so deeply requires a greater and deeper love and care for yourself, otherwise the potential damages of it may cause you to feel so irrelevant that your mind becomes toxic towards itself. Where most people only witness or experience a short-handed love, I was fortunate enough to witness an over-extending one in my outrageously influenceable years instead, as well as through my grandparent’s relationship. And through that man’s death, I learned that, and through his mistakes, I learned the balance to keep myself from making a similar one.

The point is, I did not learn from a boy that was weak enough to stray and find himself in another woman’s bed when he also found himself mentally and emotionally unstable. Instead, I learned from a man that was strong enough to love one woman out of all of the others in this world so intensively and with the purest conviction, that all of those other women hardly and barely even existed to him; he acknowledged their placement in the world and interacted accordingly, but that was it. As for my mother, she lived that devotion just as fiercely and fearlessly as he did. And THAT: THAT right there - THAT is love. It is incorruptible, it is indomitable, it is selfless, and it is unbreakable towards unfaithfulness.

People’s personal definitions of love are SO overly weak this day and age, just like Jason ******* stated. People tell themselves that they ‘love you’ because they can’t get you off of their mind, because you make them smile, because you make them happy, because they miss you, etc. etc. They think they love you because they simply want to be with you, because they want you, because they feel different about you than most, because you’re not like what they’re used to, so on and so forth. So many people even ‘love you’ simply for the potential that they see with you, as well as so many other faulty reasons. That is not love in its true, uncorrupted form. That is nothing but a childish way to view it. In its true, uncorrupted form, there is no hesitation if you question yourself about your own faithfulness and devotion. You do not doubt either of those either, not for a fraction of a second. It is not a crush-like obsession; it is a confident, selfless, lasting, and empathetic devotion. It is a willingness to defend what you have and the heart to never desire to betray it. It is the relief that you feel when you look into that person’s eyes and soul, and absolutely nothing about it is terrifying like it is in so many others. It is the understanding that remaining loyal and faithful comes with the easiest of efforts, because the power and validity behind your love makes it impossible to see anyone else in the same way and in the same light as you see your partner. Most people won’t agree with this, why? Because most people have not experienced it, and sadly, so many of them never will. They allow it to remain illusive to themselves by disbelieving in it as opposed to bringing it to life by their own actions. So many people will reply with impatience and prematurity because they think that they’ll be waiting forever to find something like that, as opposed to responding with patience, understanding, self-respect, and self-love, and refusing to give themselves to someone that just doesn’t deserve them, and having the courage and bravery to wait for someone that does. I have seen far too many corrupted loves do their damage on far too many beautiful souls to ever begin to allow myself to condone it. I even watched my mother’s heart, soul, and will break time and time again by my real father’s hand while I was young, without ever knowing what to do, what to say, or how to help her. At this point, all that I can do is be is decent enough for her to learn from her’s and other human-beings pain, as well as mine own in my years. And I will tell you this: I will never be the reason that a woman feels so destroyed. I have had every opportunity to make the wrong choice in my very few, but lengthy relationships, and every time I made the right one – no matter how the woman that I loved made me feel. That lack of grace that leads to unfaithfulness is at the fault only of the person that carries it out - no one else. Your responsibility is solely yours; the person that looks back at you in the mirror - no one else. And before anyone lets the thought enter their mind: No, I am not some unreasonable individual that conceitedly, arrogantly, and falsely holds himself higher. I am not looking down on anyone with condescension. I am a normal, caring man in this world. I am not breaking boundaries by showing common care, common courtesy, and common respect. And that sadly puts the world’s moral and ethical degradation into perspective, and how widely that it has been accepted.

So, to now redirect this whole message back in your direction Stefanie, after all of that, I ask you this: Are you sure that after ten years of that emotional and mental abuse that you suffered, you still loved that man the same when it came to your point of unfaithfulness? Are you sure that you loved him – who he became – still? That angry, lazy drunk that wouldn’t hear you, or anyone else out? I’m willing to bet not. I think at that point, you loved who he was and had been before. If you had loved him the same, the fire behind your devotion and willingness to remain faithful and to protect him would have been as intense as it was during the peak of your relationship; especially if you had witnessed him, the man that you believe you still loved so deeply, hurting so badly. Granted that our tolerance towards our mistreatment as humans naturally drops with time, love is what refuels those tolerances when we make mistakes towards the ones that we truly care about, as long as they reciprocate. Your fault is the unfaithfulness, but his fault is that he allowed the relationship to die. Realistically, how could you love that person who allowed that to happen after ten years?

Cheating IS black and white. The answer is no, I will not cheat because I am unshakably devoted to who I love (because I truly love them), or yes, I will act unfaithfully because I am not devoted to them, because I do not truly love them. People typically refuse or have the inability to realize that either they never did, or that they simply stopped loving that other person at some point. There are plenty of people here, as well as on other posts, that have and still try to defend cheating and unfaithfulness towards monogamous relationships. And even if they’re just trying to condone it for whatever reason like you’re stating, they still are not taking a stance against it. This is the biggest problem with the subject. If you truly know that it’s wrong, you will not let it tower over you and you will find no justification within it. I stand by that unshakably. And anyone that tries to move me on that is simply wasting their time and effort. Would you rather be with someone who see’s cheating as a dismissible thing, or would you rather be with someone who would never put you through it to begin with? Unfaithfulness is devastating and purely selfish. I don’t want to hear anymore from anyone else how something like that should be allowed, overlooked, and condoned in this world, when this world would be a much, much better place without it.”

Enough said.

To The Girl At The Beacham's 'Say Anything' Show

For every one hundred females that walk into my life, I find only a fraction of them applicable to what I've grown to stand for as a man and as a decent human-being in my efforts here in this place. Let's be clear here - I only say that with pride when concerning what it is that I've learned and have come to understand that I deserve from people in my lifetime, and as for the rest, I say it with shame and guilt because I truly wish that it weren't the case. With a disheartening and discouraging sigh, I admit that as for the rest of them, I'll never allow them to be close to me due to the cruelty that is written on their faces, all resulting from the hatred and insensitivity that has become instilled inside of their hearts; all of which you, nor I, deserve to ever be subjected to. Beauty in appearance does not fool me like it does most, as I've grown to see past it and where true beauty stems and radiates from; I've grown to understand what beauty actually means, past the majority of the world's shallow, general consensus of it. There is a profound meaning behind the word that most hardly can comprehend, let alone understand. In its most uncorrupted form, it has absolutely nothing to do with superficiality. That is the furthest thing to take into mind when defining the worthiness and deeper attractions of a person's soul. Though appearance, yes, can make someone even more attractive overall, it places last when again, defining the worthiness and deeper attractions of a person's soul. I am not saying that attraction isn't important when sparking and retaining a flame between two people, because it's vital in my honest opinion, but attraction should never be the main basis of why you may want to be with someone, or simply pursue them. So for a further admittance of shame towards my own gender, let's be honest, as the number of men that I meet has a ratio that triples that of what I spoke of above towards women, with an outcome of even less that I find fitting as friends or even honorable acquaintances towards the type of person that I am. Don't get this twisted; I am no God or overly self-righteous person that believes so; I am no arrogant individual that disregards the remaining world as to adhere to their own standards, and I am no empty shell that dwells within cynicalness. I would never begin to think in those manners. I am just a man that has learned the processes of good and bad - one that does not want to impose the bad onto the world, and in return, one that does not want it imposed on himself, either.

I'm going to delve right into this one: I attended a Say Anything show June 19, 2014 at The Beacham in Orlando, Florida, which is where I currently reside at this point in my life. I've spent the majority of my life growing up in this state, and the past seven years residing in this city of Orlando. I have grown and learned to love it here. I do not care for the traffic, its sides of selfishness that tag right along with that, the terribly hot and humid summer days, or the inability to look up and see even one star in the sky because the city is so lit up with light. I was born in New Bern, North Carolina, and though my soul and personality fits perfectly into the schematics of that state, I've learned to call each of them my home for their own justifiable reasons. I strongly believe that happiness comes with your mindsets, and I've been fortunate enough to be able to apply that thought process to myself for nearly my entire life. Mostly, I've learned to adapt and to make the most out of every situation. I do not hold the hand of greed and I do not preach the word of 'never having enough.' And though I live a fulfilling and satisfying lifestyle, they are not what happiness is encompassed around. I'm fortunate enough to have learned that a long time ago.

I'm writing this now because it has been continuously tugging at my sleeves to do so for the past few days, and I have been trying my absolute hardest to get it out as quickly as possible between all of the other responsibilities that I have in life - many of which, I've put on my back-burner for this. My typical satisfaction has been robbed of me and has left me feeling unfulfilled, all due to myself and my lack of action while attending this show that I speak of in the above paragraph. I have spent the past five years of my life alone, learning to love myself entirely and growing to become what it is that I needed to become as a person here on this world that so seemingly has been overrun with animosity and insensibility. I have experienced it first hand many times, and have learned to avoid its traps in life, and this is one reason that I have chosen to be alone for so long. I had the options not to, but chose to have the patience to wait for something worth more than settling like I had before; to wait for something worth fighting for, and if I were lucky enough to find it, something worth dying for. And this type of passion does not come from settling. I too, learned that a long time ago.

I met a certain female during this show, and the entire episode has deemed me unable to shake it from myself, even though I don't want to. While at this show, I was crowd surfing to one of my most admired bands that I have discovered in my short time here, and I hit a weak spot in the crowd and I was suddenly dropped to the floor. This crowd though, if I could only properly convey to you just how awesome that they were, you wouldn't believe it. I reached my hand up and met another person's hand that aided in pulling me back up, off of the ground, and to my feet. I gave my thanks along with a fierce high-five, brushed myself off, and turned myself back towards the stage and towards the band. And inadvertently, I turned myself and my attention towards something that I never thought that I would find amidst this crowd (in the sense that I've personally grown to define it, at least), as awesome as they were: A girl, an old soul, and a lady - in every sense of the word, smiling right in my direction, and right at me. It was a view that I haven't seen in a long, long time. Many females forget to be ladies and to carry themselves as so, just as many 'men' forget to be gentlemen, though I would see them being labeled as 'boys' to be much more fitting. It's the same dynamic as how many females forget to have self-respect, as many men never learn to grow past and become better than their low-level instinctual, sexual urges. And thus, just as many females forget to trust and love themselves, many males forget to love, all together.

As quickly as I rose to my feet and moved my eyes onto her, I became entangled inside a web of sincerity. Have you ever met someone that brought out every ounce and intention of honesty inside of you, so effortlessly? It's a rare occasion, but one of the best things that this life has to offer. We exchanged our words and shortly after, I couldn't help but feel compelled to tell her just how awesome that I thought that she was. My next line consisted of the only thing that could come to my mind in the moment that I found myself caught in with this vibrant soul, sporting one of the prettiest and most honest smiles and faces that I have ever seen: "Will you marry me?!" Though we both knew the lack of seriousness towards the question and the sarcasm that overruled it, she smiled, said yes, and pulled me in and kissed me - on the cheek, that is, because she was classy, not easy. Neither am I, but it didn't take much effort for her to grab a hold of me emotionally in a sense that I still feel right this very moment; it too is one of the rarest things in the world. I've relived it and the memory of that moment many-a-times since. Unfortunately, the excitement of being so caught up in the moment between that and the music, alongside of singing with and to each other, led me to lose her in the crowd, and I could not find her for the life of me afterwards. Along with this, and my little-more than slight alcohol consumption, I swore that she had given me her number, but afterwards, I couldn't find it for the life of me either. I know, I know. I understand exactly what you're probably thinking. But I've given myself enough hits over the fact that I let myself be intoxicated just enough to where I can't remember this part of exchanging her phone number as clearly as I wish that I could, no matter how hard that I've tried to recall it. And so unfortunately, I never caught her name either. Had I known that she was in that crowd, I never would have let a sip of alcohol touch my lips. I would have ensured that my cell phone would have never been dead at this point, and I never would have let her slip away from me like that. I feel like such a fool, and justifiably so.

So here I am, writing this on a relentless search for this girl. I have looked between every crevice, underneath every stone, and around every alleyway trying to find her. I have called random numbers of people in my phone's contact list that I did not recognize trying to find this girl, to no avail. I have sent out mass text messages and personalized text messages to girls whose numbers and names that I didn't recognize in my contact list, only to find dead end after dead end. I even sent the message to some of my friends, knowing that it wasn't her, but hoping that somehow by the grace of God that it may help me find her. I pulled a random number out of my wallet from a female, written on a piece of a napkin that I met while being out at the local Pub. I was ecstatic because I thought that I had finally found her, but it wasn't. It was just another acquaintance that I had met (who had a boyfriend, might I add), that I was only interested in being friends with. She was a fun individual, but just a friend, and nothing more. You see, I'm not like most, and I don't play the field like that. You don't have to believe me. Your opinion, though it is important to me, isn't what matters here. It's her's that does. I have looked through the pictures posted by the bands that played this show, keeping my fingers crossed that I would find something that could help lead me back to her, but I haven't been that lucky. I had my friend that I rode with search his car, but only came up empty handed. I even searched my own truck thinking to myself, "Maybe somehow, just maybe....."

I have exhausted every lead that I have looking for you. I have tried, and I have tried, and I have tried. In the past five or six years, I have never searched for something so tirelessly, and it's because in the past five years I have not had anything worth searching for this hard. My best friends tell me not to give up, and to keep trying. They know and understand how rare that this is, and how rare that it is for me to find a female that I personally see so worth fighting for. They remind me that anything worth having in this life doesn't come easy, and that even one chance with this girl is something that sounds more than worth it. A lot of you are going to sit back and find humor, criticism, and judgement to apply towards what I'm doing here, and that's fine. Just know that I find twice the humor, criticism, and judgement towards not you, but towards your indifference on this subject instead, and towards your inability to comprehend something that you simply just don't, or can't understand. Those are traits that are exactly what is wrong with the world today, and it deems your opinions invalid from the start. I show courage in my search for one girl out of seven billion people in this world. I do not need your justification, and I will be one of the few to end up fulfilling the ideas of an uncorrupted love, no matter who it is that I end up with in the end. There is no telling who that may be and no one has the capability of that, except for time. And right now, my time is on the search for her. And for those of you out there who may help in any way, I cannot explain correctly how thankful that I am for your kindness; the words simply don't exist.

This is only one of the text messages that I sent out to a number that I did not recognize and did not get an answer from - verbally, or written. After a failed attempt and no answer from a phone call, and no response from two text messages, I came up with this as a final effort. As for the order of those actions so that you do not see me as some obsessive individual who cannot take a hint, I sent one message hoping that it was the girl that I'm trying to reach, receiving no response. Soon after I realized that it wasn't her, but someone else instead. So I sent a second message apologizing for the confusion hours later, again getting no response. Finally, I thought hard about it and realized that I was mistaken again, and that there was still a possibility that it could be the female that I'm striving so hard to get a hold of. Unfortunately, I was still left unaware of whether it was her, or who exactly it was residing on the other end of this number at that point, as they never responded even once. They're the only person that would not respond and at least give me the knowledge of knowing that it wasn't her. I hope with absolutely everything in me that it wasn't, because it would be a terrible sign, although I would still respect it. Should you see this message and decide that I am not something that you may intend to pursue back, as heavy as that may weigh on me, know that I still respect that; and trust me when I say that I find comfort in knowing that you know what it is that you want and desire in this lifetime; it's more than most people can say for themselves. As for this final message, I sent it the following day in the afternoon some time, and I think that it depicts what I want to say more correctly than anything:

"Okay, so it looks like I may have been correct the first time around. At least there is a possibility that I was, so let me start with this: I apologize again if this is not the girl that I'm looking for. I sincerely apologize again if there is a reason that I'm not getting a response, because the absolute last thing that I intend to do is be disrespectful towards you, whether you're who I'm looking for, or not. Whatever reason(s) that it may be that I'm not getting one, I respect that, and this will be the last message that I send. You have my word on that. Though there obviously may be legitimate reasons for it, such as a misplaced cell phone, etc (which clearly I'm hoping for), just know that my anxiousness has gotten the better of my patience, and that doesn't happen often; I tend to hold my grace, which only further justifies my honest interest in this girl that I'm searching for. But it's not my place to continue on a personal pursuit with an individual that won't respond for whatever reasons, so I won't bother you with my rambling any longer should I not hear anything back. I honestly don't know if these messages are even making it to another person or just to blank static in the world of cell phones, but I don't care; the girl that I met is worth taking every bit of that chance and the possibility of me looking like an idiot. So lastly, I deeply apologize if I've come off as anything other than honest and sincere in my pursuit. I know that I have absolutely nothing to prove that honesty and sincerity over a text except with my words, so I've pleaded with fate that maybe they'll get the point across and convey what I want to portray properly; the same fate that I believe may have led us to meet. I've looked through every lead that I had trying to find this girl who hopefully is you, and I've only found dead ends and have been led right back here. This is my last chance. And though I've taken many chances in life, I've also spent many moments in my life letting chances pass me by. Chances all of the way from career moves, to personal dream and goal accomplishments, to girls, and everything in between. And from it, I've learned not to let it happen again. I would rather be the guy that looks like a fool, rather than being the guy that didn't even have the courage to take a shot on something that meant this much to him. It's hard for me to keep this short. I have much deeper explanations for all of it. But I won't explain it unless asked at this point. I apologize for my confusions and getting these names and phone numbers mixed up with other people who are only friends and/or new acquaintances. But I won't let myself be the person who kicks himself in the ass for the rest of his life for not at least trying to reach out for someone and something worth reaching for, which is exactly what I would do if I didn't send this. I hope with everything in me that either this message, or life, somehow leads me back to you, and you to me, again, if this is who I'm looking for. At least for one chance. I'm not like all of the other apathetic, indifferent, and shallow human-beings that have such a grasp on the world that we live in today. I'm different. I just want that one chance to prove it. It's all that I'm asking. Again, I hope that this is you, more than anything that I've hoped for in a long time. - James Canady"

Please help me in my pursuits. I'm all out of options. I have grown to need nobody in my life, and it is what has brought me to the point of being able to share it with somebody; whether for a short time, or for a long time. I will find the type of girl that I am looking for in my lifetime, or I will die alone trying to. And I will die alone happy knowing that I never gave myself to someone again who didn't deserve me. I only ask you to help me steal my opportunity back of knowing whether that mindset is reflected onto this lady that I'm searching for here in this posting, or not.

I pray that every one of you finds the strength, self-happiness, self-respect, and self-acceptance inside of you to see your worthiness in the same light. Why? Because human-beings, souls, and their accompanying hearts are not disposable. They are not to be toyed with. They are not meant to be tossed to the wayside, to the curb, or left in the wake of what should have carried them through the trials of life with grace, dignity, and support. They are not meant to be left feeling abandoned, burdened, and unloved; as if everything good in this world only remains fleeting further from us. They are meant to be fought for, they are meant to be lifted, and they are meant to be loved, unconditionally. I've seen the worst come from a loveless relationship and worlds stripped of all of its color due to an individual's lack of strength to provide this world what it needs, and another person what they need, in place of its standard indifference. And I've seen with my own eyes, souls tainted due to an individual's lack of courage to provide this world what it needs, and another person what they need, in place of its standard apathy. The pain in this world is a reaper that comes for everything that good men and women stand for. It comes swiftly and quietly, and carves its mark into you with a smile as your soul bleeds out. I know this pain; I lived with it for years, and years. And I know this smile; it sent the heaviest shivers down my backside and my spine as I watched it come only inches within my own face. I know it because I've seen my walls torn down and my skies grayed and blackened from things that should have never tossed me to the curb, but broke me, and did; from things and people that treated me as disposable, although I was the opposite of it; from people that should have loved me unconditionally as I did them, but didn't, and couldn't spare even a moment to try and just comprehend the meaning of it. I sat beside myself and watched me be torn apart. I watched my foundations shaken from their place, and their accompanying structures leveled. I watched my soul become enveloped in that darkness, as I felt my mind feel it seeping over me and through my skin. I felt loneliness, and I felt emptiness, in some of their utmost forms - like many of you reading this have. And for those of you who have and that this applies to more than it ever should, I'm sorry that you had to experience this. I'm sorry that you weren't granted better options than to crawl your way uphill and through the inner and trying trappings of your mind. We were given the gift of a conscience and the ability of love and compassion to fix this world that has become so broken. Sadly, many of us don't know how to act on it because we've become so lost in the misleading ways of the empty and unloving ones around us. And therefore, many of us don't know how to even begin to fix what's wrong here, but to only further break it, instead. It's not your fault.

I was born of the light, as we all are. In the same dynamic as I've experienced pains that resemble what you have experienced; whether lesser, or greater; that is not what matters most here. Pain is not a competition, and this is not me thinking that I am better or worse than you. I stand by my mother's word that I strongly believe that people are born inherently good. And I so luckily had her as a teacher as I aged through my most impressionable years. She taught me strength, and wisdom, and most importantly, love in a depraved world. Optimism and my pain became my only weapon against these burdens that I speak of as I swore to myself that I would never make another feel anything relatively close to what I had been subjected to. Three of those things being the loss of two of the girls that I had grown to love so passionately and unconditionally at separate and appropriate times in my life, and the other as the suicide of my biggest father-figure and stepfather when I was fifteen years old. When I was at my weakest and my spine bent the most at the weight of my distress, in my mind I was given two options: to stand with it and to break, or to stand against it and still, to break. I was so convinced that it so heavily outweighed the strength inside of me that I had no other option; I was wounded on every inch of my body, and I felt it through every inch of my soul - I was broken in every way that I looked at it. Pain that seeps from the top of your head, to the bottom of your toes, leaves you weak in every conceivable position; and there is no outrunning it, or escaping it. It's a very distinct type of pain. One that came for me personally from opening up entirely and allowing another to have everything about my mind, body, and soul. The second, from growing with and trusting someone to love me enough to protect my childhood innocence, and to remain in this world and to guide me through my trials of life as any parent is meant to do. We are all capable of feeling this pain, whether we've felt it yet in our time here, or not. We are all not unbreakable or immune to emotion, no matter what state of mind you have put yourself in - real men do not see emotion as a weakness, and they do not see dispassion as a strength. We are all capable of speaking what we feel, and acting on our good intent and emotion as opposed to the bad. It is why we're here, not to do the opposite. Many of us find ourselves scared to act on it, just as I have in my younger years. And I have met many people who have asked me how exactly I can be so forward within my good intentions, and say whatever it is that I'm feeling, to whoever it is that may be standing in front of me. The truth is, had I turned to my stepfather in his darkened times years ago and spout the words "I love you" just once, I guarantee you that he would be here with my mother, my sisters, and I today. So if you ask me why I don't hesitate, it's because I could have saved the life of one of the most important people that I ever had the true fortune of knowing in my lifetime. And if you ask why I don't hold back, it's because I will never let that or anything remotely close to it happen, ever again. My moments will be seized. You never know what your words may truly mean to somebody, and you never know how much that your compassion might save someone. In your darkest states, someone providing this for you in all likeliness would have changed your perspective on the situation, or at least eased the pain that you were enduring and would have lessened your suffering; especially if it were to come from the person causing it. Life is about selflessness, no matter how selfishly that it has treated you. We are meant to lead, and to stand against the wrong doings in our experiences. Even if life never gave it to you, you find the courage to give it to the world. It deserves your apathy no more than you deserved the apathy from the person that struck holes into your hopes and love.

When that pain overtakes us, a lot of people make a heavy mistake at that point and instead of standing with it or against it, they try desperately to hide from it. Either we refuse to be a part of the cause of that pain in this world, we begin to believe that it's okay to behave in the same manner because we were treated the same way, or we avoid it at all costs. I intentionally listed those in order of what I believe to be the best way of handling these situations, to the worst. We are meant to be strong, we are meant to be valiant, and we are meant to be brave. But these things do not come overnight, easily, or instantaneously, and I am as guilty as the next person for losing my footing and grace at times towards these instances. Dont you ever let yourself think that someone is better than you because they may have had the fortune of experiencing more in life before you have had the chance to, especially if they had someone to guide them through the entire process. No human-being on this earth is perfect, and we are not meant to be. Perfection is something that is out of our reach as beings here in this reality that we reside in. But we are meant to better ourselves as much as possible; to come as close to that perfection as we are able to. It's not about how close that you get, it's about how hard that you try. We are meant to be better than the hate. We are meant to stand taller than the shallow pools that many people call their emotional depths. And we are meant to be stronger than the pain that resides in our hearts, and has overtaken our world. This strength does not come from hiding and covering yourself from your fears and from the hurt that you feel inside of you. Instead, it comes from facing what it is that is tearing at the heart strings that are yours. They come from believing that even though the world couldn't or can't show you what it is that you deserve, you can show others what they deserve in place of it, because you are better than anything that this terrible world could ever give you; because you are. Do not let pain overcome you. You take it, you restrain it inbetween your hands, and you use it to shape yourself for the better. It wants to control you and have its way with you, but don't you dare let it. You are a force to be reckoned with, and you will not let it turn you into exactly what its own essence is. It is your pain to take, and nothing more. You are not its body and soul to claim and control.

I know what it's like to feel taken by it. And I know what it's like to ask yourself, "How in the world can I use something to my advantage that so vastly devastates me?!" I know what it's like to not have a single, ounce of hope, and to feel as lost as the moon is from the sun. But that is the first sign that you are deeper than the pain, emptiness, detachment, prose, and indifference that is the majority of this world. That is the first sign that despite your doubt, you are great, and that you are meant to do great things. You are meant to be a leader and to stand against the problems of the world. You are meant to change this place. Do not be afraid of it, and do not be afraid of the criticism of others towards it. Everything around you may be dark and even pitch black when concerning your self-hope, self-respect, and self-love. All that I can tell you is that you just need to hang on. That is all. My learning came with time, and I had nobody to walk me through my most trying times in life and to hand me an instruction sheet pointing out where to turn, how to act, what to say, and how to behave. But I will tell you, I brought myself to my feet many-a-times standing against that darkness, emptiness, and void that had become everything inside of me, and it knocked me back down to my bare back time and time again. But I refused to let it keep me there, and more so, I refused to let it change me into exactly what it was that put me there in the first place. And in time, I stood to find myself on my feet - bleeding, wounded, with my clothing tattered and worn. But in that time, I also stood to finally find myself grounded, unshakable, and unable to be moved. So I looked right up at that reaper that smiled at me when I was at the bottom of my canyon, I stared as I watched its smile lose its arch and grow into a straight, horizontal smirk, and you know what I did? What I never thought that I would be able to do? I smiled right back at it. When it realized that I wouldn't let it have me, it fled like the coward that it is. People continuously say that 'time heals everything,' but they don't ever explain what comes with it. All of this bravery, this valiance, this honor, integrity, morality, strength, heart, audacity, fortitude, fearlessness, and virtue stand side-by-side of that passing time, and its partnering hourglass. And when you pair it with the mindset of taking that afflicted selfishness, hurt, emptiness, apathy, and indifference that has been directed at you, and refuse to afflict it back onto the world, your soul only becomes exponentially that much stronger. Pain has a timeframe; it has a limit - the majority of it at least. The aforementioned virtues do not. There is a light no matter how dark that your surroundings are. Strive to be better and to be the hope that this world so desperately needs, and you will find it. How dimly or brightly it shines is up to you.

So to this gracefully poised girl that I watched radiate in her elegance when she turned to me, I hope that life and fate somehow leads me back to you. I am not blind, and for those few moments I saw how brightly that you've learned to let yourself shine. No one else in that entire crowd existed to me in that short timeframe, but you. And for those few moments, where everyones' attention was fixed onto the band and all of the chaos around us, I could only hear and fixate onto what it was that you were saying to me - louder than the over-bearing a/c systems, over the mass crowd and the countless voices, and even above the amplifiers and the music that brought each of us there to begin with. To this girl that stood more boldly to me than the souls on stage behind the guitars, the drums, and the microphones, I just want one thing: To show you the light that I've learned to let live inside of me as well, all in the hopes that it may be as bright to you as you were to me. I just want to stop the world around you, like you did for me.

Journal Entry #18: Ghost Trails Part 2

I sat, housed beneath the beating of the storm that slowly inched its way above my head and above my aging and failing structures. I stared anxiously as I watched its trusses arch, bow, and detour from their once confident and incorruptible states. They once stood straight, but now whispered in between their creaking to me about how their strength was leaving them as fast as the rain was leaving the sky and reaching the rooftop just feet above my head. I drove myself further into the corner as the wood slowly fractured and splintered. The sound shook me so violently after it entered throughout every inch of my skin that I questioned if my bones were breaking with it. I glared up and watched the most modest amounts of that rain above me make its way through the rimations of this quickly and poorly formed rooftop of this refuge and hideaway that I so hastily formed, trailing down and eventually, dripping just a foot in front of me; all to remind me that it was coming, and that this harborage can't harbor me forever. I heard the lightning shift the earth, and the thunder momentarily displace the skies. I couldn't help but picture the world outside of this room in the same sense of that and just like the expanse just steps outside of my door that I could clearly tell had become overlied with water and floods. I couldn't help but see it the same as that; I couldn't help but picture the wind and the tempest flooring everything and every building around me that once claimed to be standing in the name of everything that was valiant, brave, and like my once trusted beams and trusses - incorruptible. And as I pictured it, I couldn't help but see it smiling as it tore this place apart and screamed down to me that my time was soon coming, just like all of the rest; just like the supports to my foundation. Just like how the rain found its way in with enough time and impairment; the time that I sat back and gave it. I edged myself from the only enclosed corner of this room that had become my only sense of safekeeping, and I pressed myself to the walls of this empty retreat and saw the downpour laughing as it had its way with the world, while most conformed to it and refused to stand against its intentions, and almost laughed with it. My eyes glazed over as I watched valor being forfeited. They sank back into my skull as I watched fortitude and bravery slowly become forgotten. And my eyelids shut and hid their stinging as I watched three-quarters of the last hints of heroism dying in the floods outside of my door. What's left of them have all become fleeting attributes. These retreating traits inch themselves back and hull up into the shadows of all of the indecent things that have hurriedly overtaken this world that we all reside in, much like I have. They watch from the shadows just as I watch from my makeshift shelter, peering out cautiously between the cracks of the walls just between these wooden boards making up the thin space that was hardly separating me from the outside; hoping with the most hopeful, yet heaviest heart that it finally might be safe. It wasn't.

I practically held the hand of my silence as it sat beside me and watched me glare out between these small spaces. Somehow I thought that the quiet would balance the harrowing screams from the storm and that it would somehow forget that I resided in this place; that somehow it would forget me all together, like she did when I needed her the most. In my opposing hand, I held the memory of stumbling onto this place while searching for my calm, for my quiet, and for my soul's comfort - for my home. I was never sure if I would find her there, wherever it was in my head, but I knew that I would find something there that made more sense than the void that I had become so lost in. And I never thought that I would find the rain along the way. I felt the warmth in the air, followed by the cold, and I watched the clouds form and darken while searching for this place, and while searching for her. Something told me to build this safe house, although in time it became more of an asylum than anything. Maybe it was God trying to warn me, maybe it was the devil trying to stop me as he followed right behind my steps and hopeful insights to whatever good lord exists. Maybe it was myself desperately searching for a temporary relief from the pain and endless space that had become everything inside of me. I stood on one side of an uncharted and unknown ocean, unable to even see the sunrise, it seemed so far away on the horizon; the light even took its time making its way to me. I waited for it to reach me longer than the moon waits for someone to visit its cold and lonely surfaces. And once that light finally slid over me, for some reason I still couldn't feel its warmth. I saw everything in front of me, but felt nothing about it. I only felt the emptiness that her once fulfilling love saturated me with; I only saw the vastness of that unknown ocean to its entirety, and the weight took a hold of everything about me. And it pulled me down, farther than that ocean that I faced and could not conquer could ever plunge down into and reach.

Soon my trusses neared their breaking points closer than they ever were before. I knew that if I remained hidden, I would become buried beneath the ruble of what was inevitably coming. My stronghold was no longer strong. I held tightly onto my beliefs and onto my morals, and what I've grown to believe and stand for as a man. I have never been so ready to die next to something in my entire life as I was for those; they were all that I had left. And I knew that even out of my emptiness, they were the only things that I had done right and correctly came to believe in, even if my love for her ultimately was false towards what life had planned for me. I closed my eyes and pictured them standing next to the rest of the world's lack of beliefs - its lack of faith, strength, and bravery. I knew what to believe in, but was so convinced for so long that they meant next to nothing without her by my side. You see, she helped to form their foundation with her strength, accompanied by her poise. She helped to secure their stonewalls with her laugh, and the sincerity that she so strongly believed in. She helped to bind them together with her depth, and she helped to make them unbreakable with her honesty, and ultimately, with her love. I sat back as the storm came down as hard as it ever has. When I thought about these things, its anger just increased. I continued to peer out, hoping that some chance would present itself and that even the smallest hint of light would be signaling to me, even if it was miles away; like a lighthouse bringing its sailor home. My eyes flushed and ached from the effort. They irrigated tears of strain to no avail. And that storm - it suddenly brought itself down, completely eye level with me, staring right back through the cracks in these boards. It stared right at me, right into me, and right through me. I froze as I came face to face with what I've been running from for so long. I could sense its depravation, it reeked so horribly of it. I saw the air bending from its refraction, just like the heat waves radiating from an over-heating object. I saw it seep through these cracks, and quicker than I was able to react, I felt it surround me, I felt it bleed into me, and I felt it reach into me. It came for everything good that was left inside of me, like it does all men. It came to take everything that I had left.

As it seeped through my veins, I felt it sting as it pulled itself along. Every inch of pain and emptiness became just another push-off point for it. My blood became its waterways; a ship carrying the most skilled sailors upon an angry ocean, determined to make it home; with unbreakable rigging, and unmatchable conviction. It soon reached the hull that had surrounded itself around my heart, where I hoarded the remaining valiance that I have come so strongly to believe in. I reinforced it one hundred times over as much as I had reinforced my safe-house surrounding me. But it came barreling straight into the shell of it; one thousand times stronger than the storms that had come careening down onto my rooftop; with enough force to break any barrier. The shell of it never had a chance.

It broke into me quicker than any love that I had ever allowed to before. It screamed like the wind outside as that hull crumbled to its anger. I closed my eyes, and I felt the building quiver, as I covered and shielded my head from the fragments of a stronghold that I thought would soon be coming down onto me. But while I thought that the rumbling was a tell-tale sign of my structure collapsing, it was not; to my surprise, it was the opposite. It wasn't the sign of what I thought was an impenetrable armament giving in. It was the warning of my inner fortitude finally breaking away, and expelling itself from the confined space that I had held, pushed, and driven it into, deep inside of me. It turns out, those beliefs that I had stowed away were far more powerful than any amount of pain or storm, that could ever hover above me and bring itself down on me. With my hull broken, my beliefs and my valiance exposed, that storm that made its way from the outside, through my veins, and into my heart, did not find what it thought that it was going to find. Suddenly, I felt the fear reverse, and I felt that storm start to tremble, instead.

I opened my eyes, with conviction in my mind that far outreached this pain that had tried to overtake me. I finally was able to see the two in comparison of each other, as opposed to simply hiding my strengths away in the fear that my pain would take the only thing left that I felt kept me separated from all of the empty and numb souls that live amongst me; the empty and numb souls that put me into hiding in the first place. Suddenly, I wasn't afraid anymore. Suddenly, I wasn't lonely anymore. Suddenly, I wasn't empty anymore. And suddenly, I realized that even without her, these beliefs that I have fought so hard to show this world still stood without her by my side - secured together, bound together, and still unbreakable. Suddenly, I realized that they were formed by me; I just merely honored her with them, not the other way around. Sometimes, we get so lost in our love that we forget how strong that we are. And thus, sometimes, we get so lost in our love that we forget that these reasons are why we're loved to begin with - even if the others are too blind to comprehend, or even understand it. I felt it rushing through my veins as that emptiness poured itself out of me, from the same places that it crept in and made its way hastily into my inner hull. I heard it scream in despair as it emptied itself from me, instead of hearing its anger as it made its way into me. I felt light inside of me, instead of darkness. And when I closed my eyes, it's all that I could see; not the memory of her leaving me, or the vision of my emptiness, anymore.

The coward in me that had kept me so confined to this place jumped outside of my body, and it stepped back into that same corner that I restricted myself to inside of my retreat for so long. Its eyes widened with fear as it watched me jump to my feet and towards these hatches to finally release all of their locks. It watched me unbuckle their latches in horror. It called for me and reached out for me, begging me not to open the doorways to the outside as the entire frame of this hideaway shook and began to crumble. As the roof began to break and fall into pieces, the storm outside grew louder and louder as it watched me begin to throw this hatch open, and begin to throw this door wide agape; all while it screamed for me and tried to stop me - the desperation in its voice told me that it knew that its efforts were in vain, as did I. My cowardice jumped to its feet and grabbed me by my hand, and I shoved it back down into the corner that we once found ourselves so comfortably imprisoned to. I took one final moment to stop and to turn around to it as it pleaded for me to stay inside, where it promised safety and shelter. "There is no safety here," I said, "only loneliness." In that final moment, I thanked him for the good intention that was everything about him; for the hope and safety that he tried to provide in a world where I was entirely lost. I looked to him, gave him my gratitude and recognition, but reminded him that I am courageous, and that I am brave; that we all are meant for more than to huddle our valiance away into such small, hidden places, and away from a desperate world that so badly needs the bravery. I told him that our loneliness only stopped us from remembering that, and that there are others out there who need this reminder, just like I did. I explained in this moment that we had an option to wait there and to die, or to live. And as ready as I was to die beside my morals, beliefs, and values, I remembered just how ready that I was to live beside them, instead.

I took one final breath, I threw open the hatches, and I stepped outside where this storm had been thriving for God only knows how long. And as that storm that entered my veins that expected to find only an easy soul to claim; as it broke through my hull and found something other than what it thought that it would find, I too found the opposite just inches beyond that door frame. I expected to find floods, and wind, and hail, lightning, thunder, cold, and misery when I stepped outside of those doors. Instead, I discovered something that I never thought that I would. I stepped outside, looked up, and I came to find that there was no storm. Instead, I found light, and beauty, and stillness. I found greenery, warmth, and life - in abundance. I found my inner peace. I found my calm, I found my quiet, and I found the order that lives beside them - I found my home. Do not hide from the storms inside of you. You have the strength to overcome them; all of them. And the world needs to see this strength.

As I began to walk away and begin the journey in my life that has been placed onto pause for so long, I heard my sanctuary collapse somewhere in the distance behind me. I smiled, took another step forward, and I didn't look back.

Journal Entry #17: Ghost Trails Part 1

There is a center to these storms; an understanding and a safe ground to the ones which I call my thoughts. It is composed of and perfectly mixed into answers from every question that my eyes and my mind have consumed and conceived through vision, thought, and emotion, and it is backed by every inspiration and even every despondency that has found its way into my workings also; merits litter even the most disinclining situations. I push myself along in the hopes that I find its door finally laid out in front of me; in the hopes that I find it after just another one of these dragging steps that I force upon myself. I search for it now as I once searched for you and your love; the love that I never reclaimed. I search because here in this place, I'm rid of all confusion; I undress it from myself at its front door. And here in this place I find my calm, I find my quiet, and I find the order that lives beside them.

I often find myself huddled into this underlying shack that lies in the recesses of everything that was calm in my mind and in my heart. I stuttered, spoke, and screamed for responses and answers within this place, but my voice and its questions bounced back off of these basement-like walls and bled right back through my skin and right back into my ears, scrambling and hastening themselves back into what has been their home for God only knows how long; and they make it back here just as unanswered as they were from the start: I tilt my head and exhale in acceptance that these thoughts just can't escape me; my ear drums beat to the sound of the chains tied to their legs. And in time, I've grown to see that they want me just as little as I want them. That is the ultimate contradiction: It's funny how the world and all of the things in it, including self-emotion, can find comfort within pain. It leaves us all weak to our own comforts. So who's kidding who here? I can't lie and say that I haven't heard the outside slamming this hatch into its frame these past days, months, and years. The storm has been calling and the wind and the remaining world have been scraping at me and tearing at this hutch for so long. And the very truth, is that these foundations always fail. The lock will soon timid, and I see the screws slowly taking their reverse, just as I see the nails rusting more with every one of these storms that passes.

The sounds outside keep me pressed against the inner walls of my retreat. They're unclear and distorted with static at best. From inside, I won't ever know whether they're calling for me, or just passing over like I was never there to begin with. When the breeze stales, the noise in the room dies and hits the ground right in front of me as quick as my eyes do when you run through my head. The air is so thick with uncertainty that the sound waves can hardly make their way around the room without the wind riding, pushing, and driving them. I don't know where the drafts passing between the wooden cracks of these boards go here, let alone the color of the days outside. In these silences, I've toyed with the thoughts that maybe someone is finally at my door. But I await to no one knocking; I stand in suspense knowing in the back of my mind that no one is fighting to get in here; not this far into my head. Yet, my optimism has become involuntary, and thus, my hope still survives by the tiniest bits. I motion, but everything outside of this room begins to spin when I take that chance and edge myself to the founding and outer walls of this half-empty room. I press my eyes to the cracks of these boards, and look out to see a world with nothing but ghost trails; life passing by so quickly that I dizzy myself just trying to keep my eyes onto it. I pull back and remember the meanings of love that I have in my heart. I remember instantly how worth it that it is, although without a clear answer as to why, sometimes it only makes things spin even faster. I'm just not sure anymore whether I'm trying to convince the world that it is worth it, or just myself again. I haven't lost faith in what I feel and believe. Instead, I've lost faith in what I think that most of the others feel and believe. Many of us have eyes that see things for what they're worth as opposed to what its/their looks and mediocre impressions say and lie to us about, so in return many of us see the world for what the world is really worth. And in return to that, simply, many of us see a lot less than most do; a broader view and understanding of this place followed by a broader feeling of shame, disappointment, and guilt; because they, along with myself, know what’s out there: Even the tallest and strongest buildings founded upon honor and decency crumble from corruption. And now there is nothing but more decaying cement and ruins here than what’s left still standing with that honor and decency. And that guilt; we've all felt it at one point; the feeling that comes with the depravation of the world. Sadly, many of us are and have become desensitized to it. I feel guilty for what history has been subjected to repeatedly; everything about the degradation of virtue. I feel guilty for the subjected. And I feel guilty for the subjected, subjecting it. You see, none of us are innocent, we just lesser in degrees.

That world outside is so hung up in their rat race that they fail to take a step back to focus onto the entire puzzle as a whole, and see that there really is no road, exit, or walkway taking them to the simple answers to their questions of happiness within their ways of life. I wade, ankle deep in their emotions; in their extents of selflessness, love, and generosity, where I should be drowning instead. My only answer is to stay out of and wary of all of the water and ‘depths’ that they call theirs. So I stand on the edge, discreet, doubting, and wary. I haven’t grown cynical; I refuse it. Think what you will. I’ve just grown to understand why I fall so far from and out of reach from the others, including what so simplistically makes them happy; I wish I had that: That simple happiness, thriving below my laughter, my outer happiness, and the love that I give the world simply because it doesn’t deserve to be treated with my deeper misunderstandings and their anger. I really do. And in a sense, I do have it; even a simple smile from the right person turns my anger around. But that is the problem: It has to come from the right person. And I don’t mean anyone specific; I have one or two people in mind, but they aren’t the basis of it. It’s just that most of the smiles that I come across are forced, fake, and guilty. There is no innocence about them; that is if there is even a smile there at all to begin with. I have an overbearing mind, reading down into the further lackings of an individual from the simplest of actions that they take, and I can’t help it. In an instant I can be entirely turned off from an individual, from something as simple as a celebrity crush that they have. And my mind fights itself, because I know that they don’t deserve that. I don’t speak it, but they still don’t deserve me thinking it. It makes me shallow in its own sense. But it takes more than that for me to love, to care, and to be happy; more meaning than just pretense, naïve shallowness, and false hope. And that leaves me going empty, because the standard of self-respect has been draining from society for so long. Maybe I just don’t belong in this time frame. I witnessed an inseparable love from my grandparents, and he was there at her bed until the day that she died, with his hand in hers. I would do anything to see something like that again with my own two eyes, and I would do anything to feel it between my heart and another’s. I just can’t detach inner-beauty from outer-beauty; to me they are one-in-the-same. And chances are that the pretty girl who you can't seem to keep your eyes off of and out of your head is nothing more than another face that can't walk out of my life quickly enough. I haven't the time for shallowness anymore. I get enough of that from the rest of them. So I drag myself back to the inside of my retreat, steady my vision and my spinning head, and take a breath as the following storms and their lighting make their presence known off in the distance somewhere. I know that the rain is somewhere close behind it, falling like hail. It always is.

I Had A Dream

I drifted off to the dancing of the passing car’s headlights finding their way from the streets, to just in between the spaces of my blinds. My eyelids began to give in to the weight of the day that had passed. As my mind shut down, everything in my line of sight just kind of went blurry, and I listened closely as I heard my heart slow as its beats reverberated throughout my bones. I didn’t fight it. This was one night where I was desperate to lose my waking conscious, and to find myself in an altered one instead. Something was different this time though. Everything seems to always just get quieter during my entrances to sleep; I forget about the sounds outside of my head as they matter less and less on my way into incoherence. But I felt something building up, matching my dimming attentiveness; like the tensions of a building orchestra, just without the sounds. A number of reversed cymbals followed and peaked at the moment that I finally gave in, and let my acuity run far from this place.

I awoke in this dream founded upon passions that could ember even rivers into unstoppable wild fires. And the strangest thing is that I felt coherent when I opened my eyes to this place; it all just made sense, somehow; at least in my heart, it did. I don’t meet many dreamers anymore, and I plead guilty to being one of them who has lost the majority of that innocence about themselves. One downfall to being a realist ninety percent of the time is that these things just stop making sense at some point, and so, the lantern that lights the entrance of that cavern slowly dies, until that final gust of wind comes to put it out. I still dream, just not with the naivety that I used to; life ripped that innocence away from me, like it does to a lot of us. Maybe that’s why this place made so much sense; I still had here what life took from me a long time ago: The faith that these things, no matter how improbable, could all become true.

I dreamt that we loved one-another with such a passion that our very own souls could hardly believe it, along with the fall that we suffered from it; no one survives heights like that and lives to tell of a lasting contentment. Had I not had my own two eyes to witness it, and my own heart to experience it, my soul simply would have refused the idea and possibility of it. And as for those rivers; they lit with one spark, and you should have seem them burning. They were stories high; uncontrollable, insuppressible, and unapproachable.

We were our own story from prose about two people living with more passion than this world has to offer; entirely scripted from the words out of our mouths, the thoughts inside of our heads, and the love inside of our hearts. Together, we climbed this mountain above everybody else that still loves or has ever loved, and we watched everyone else as they tried to make it up to the very top where we stood so proudly; our honor contracted in silhouette. We were as kings. Even the world’s most indomitable saviors and their serenity would have dropped to their knees at the bottom of this rigid piece of earth that only we could claim as ours. They knew that before us, only the sun had seen the heights of this place. We were rhapsody, and we were rapture; neither physically nor mentally above the others, but emotionally instead.

I picked you up at the very top and pressed my lips into yours with more feeling than any other moment that I have felt in my entire life, and you kissed me back the same. As we parted I told you that I loved you, and I pulled you in closer and pressed you into me so tightly that I felt every part of you in my arms in my sleep, just as I felt myself in yours. Everything was irrefutable. Everything was undoubtable; from the way that your skin felt, to the way that your arms enwrapped and claimed me as yours, to the way that your hand held so tightly onto mine. The inner lining of my chest felt like it could have ruptured from everything that it held within itself for you; it was the complete opposite of lonely. My own form of suppression had to be forced upon it out of the contradicting discomfort that its size could give off inside of this cavity that usually doesn’t feel anything at all anymore. And you looked at me and told me that you loved me just the same. Our lips met again, and everyone from below could only stare up at us and watch, wonder, and wish; just wish that a love like that would find them one day.

It seemed so real that when I awoke, I awoke so happy; I welcomed the daylight more than I ever have. In a rush, and out of complete unashamed, undeterred, entirely honest, and insuppressible emotion, I pushed the sheets from atop of me and I turned to tell you how much that I really do love you. At this moment, all of my formal spillings and “I love you's” held only a fraction’s worth of this ones; they just didn’t compare. So my head snapped forward, my eyes widened, my mind undoubtedly knew where I belonged, and my heart skipped as I rushed to let out this uncontrollable need to tell you how much that I loved you; I could hardly even breathe, it was choking me as I tried to force my heart through my throat so quickly. So I swallowed all of my fears that just couldn’t get to me at these heights where we found ourselves, and through the flames that these rivers became and surrounded us with, and I turned to you; to one of the things that I thought that life put me here for. My eyes curved and rolled across a bend as I looked in your direction to your side of the bed, adorning my utmost devotion; like a child; like that child that I used to be.

And it was here that my smile straightened, my sense of belonging shifted, and everything, inside and out, just went numb. My mind froze, the tensions of the orchestra disappeared, and everything just went silent. My confusion claimed me until I could catch up to where it left me lagging behind, where I went void to the realization that your side was as empty as it was quiet; as empty as I had ever seen it before; as empty as the beats that my heart skipped when I suddenly remembered the sounds of your footsteps leaving a long time ago. That’s the other end to this whole dreaming thing; from heaven, to hell. It was a mere reminder that you left your devotion a long time ago. Even with mine still sitting right next to me to remind me of that loss, somehow, I just forgot.

So I closed my eyes, intertwined my waking reality with my altered one, and in my head I approached those rivers whose flames began to drown. I approached what was once, inapproachable; the fire lessened with every step that I took and drew myself closer with. I saw the ashes departing with the wind as they were carried to some place that I’ll never know of, and I watched as they spread to the tree lines far from me, like snow falling in reverse. I reminded myself that as those rivers burned, they burned because of our passion. And the only flame left when I reached the bank was the one burning from my tireless emotions; yours were nothing but absent. Sincere love is involuntary, and the love that is most sincere never truly dies, but only dims instead, at best. A lot of us mask our former loves, like it’s something to hide. Or what’s worse, a lot of us forget them. But I’ll never hide behind the few collected moments of my life that I was spared the feeling of not being enough; those moments are the only times in life that ever really made sense so far; the only moments that existence explained its placement here to me in a perfect explanation through this thing that we all call our hearts and their companioning feelings. My intuition just tells me that there is more to this thing that we call love than just finding someone to simply lose them and move on some odd timeframe later. There has got to be more to it than that; more to this feeling that has proven to be the most impressionable, precious, brilliant, and unbelievable emotion that we are capable of. Though I’ll never understand this world’s abandonments towards justifiable love, I reinstated the aftermaths of fire as I left my final pieces of devotion toward you at the riverbank, turned myself around, began to walk slowly, and told myself quietly: Everything that is false has a timeline, and as it burns with its partnering hourglass, it all eventually turns into nothing but a memory, just like your passion did. The only things that stay are the only things that are undoubtable; the only things that are irrefutable; and the only things that are untouchable, even by fire. As I walked away, I smiled knowing that my passion passed my own tests.

A spot on that river still burns in the remembrance of what my heart is capable of feeling, and for the respect that you deserve for claiming those feelings at one point in my life; a spot, barely keeping the riverbank lit with light; one for you, and one for the only other girl that I have ever loved. They meant more to me than just forgetting about. And the courage that that takes from me will never be a weakness.

New Year's Eve

“This seems to be a year that I have had to pay my dues.”

That's what I said to myself, over and over. The recourse towards my loneliness was so obvious, even to myself. I saw through me quicker than any ghost that I've lived with before.

I sighed, and told myself that there's always next year. But those words just didn't seem to change much about how I felt towards the situation.

I knelt down, and I began my work with the painkillers in the pharmacy; stocking them, that is. I hate to admit that I was dragging myself along; my eyes weren't as wide this one, certain night.
Faintly, footsteps approached and my manager shouts “Happy New Year James,” from somewhere behind me. “Happy New Year, Anthony,” I respond.

My mind wandered and came up with numerous ideas of how the rest of the world was out partying and enjoying themselves beyond belief, which I was happy for. I thought of you. My manager turned the corner and slowly faded off and entered the back room, leaving me solely alone on my side of the store. I thought of you again, and wished that somehow in all of this confusion, you would read between the lines; you would know what was being said, without having to say it. I fantasized over how I would give anything to just hear you approach. To turn around to find your silhouette. To turn around to you, ready with your heart in your hand.

But instead, I dialed back into myself. My hazy outlook became clear again, as did my reasoning. I looked to the marble floor, and I couldn't even see my own reflection; I felt that lost.

So I turned to the inside of the aisle, began to stock, and started humming to myself:

Hmm.... Hmm ....
Someday....
Someday, my pain will fade...
Hmm.... Hmm ....
Someday....
Someday, my pain will fade away...
Hmm.... Hmm.... Hmm.....

Journal Entry #16: This Exists

I rehearsed all of my lines and drowned out all of the stuttering, but that didn't stop my jaw from shaking. Little by little I composed the sentences and words together in my head, for which was everything that I wanted you to hear. I had the punctuation, the points, and the pauses down perfectly; I had the emotions following right behind each word, forcing more weight upon the other, extending the over-extensions of my already impatient and bearing thoughts. So I inhaled to simply hold my breath for a moment; I replayed your picture one hundred times in my head; I exhaled the anxiety that was so tightly knotted inside of my stomach, and I called you; to spill everything; to stop holding in all of these things that are ripping at the seams of my chest. For so long I've watched the words escape and slowly drift from my mouth, only to grab a hold of them at the very last second to shove them back down into my throat. The taste is distinct; it's sickening, but despite this, I still wouldn't dare let them stray far from me. Not far enough, to where it's too close to you. I've long feared the ricochets of my statements coming back from you in my direction.

I decided on stepping forward, over these lines that have seemed to be nothing less than endless drops in the earth; lines over us, away from us, and past us; lines past you. I trust my instinct, reasoning, and decision making. I trust myself with my life. But steps forward can often tear hearts apart, because steps forward don't always mean that your heart will feel right about it. I've been retracing my footsteps in hopes of finding and reclaiming every piece that I've left in my own wake, and my heart bends at the weight. It folds in ways that hearts were never meant to fold.

You see, I bore the thought that my confession would finally bring you around and to terms with everything that is fair in the love that was between each of our hearts. I heaved up mine when you tried to argue over what I know is clearly felt between them as well; and all that you could do was fall silent; I felt your will let in, as I watched all of your bluffs and fronts fall to the back. Your breakdown followed. But after our reasoning and coming-to, nothing changed. We awoke, but a part of you kept sleeping. Or maybe, even, a part of you died. And I just cannot stop asking it to myself; I can't get it out of my head. Because I don't know why, but for some reason you turned and you ran, again.

Every heart can only take so much, and mine is breaching. As bad as my heart may want to be with you, my head will no longer let it. I have constructed my own prison inside of my mind, and the only ways for you to reach me inside will be easy, only if your intention is truly honest and sincere. Any more of your shortcomings, just like the ones when you so unexpectedly turn and run, will never make it to me here. I will not bother with empty words or promises, any more.

In all physical senses, I have left you. And in many emotional senses, I have left you as well, but I have fought valiantly. I have stood bravely. I have stood for something. And I still stand for it. And as a man, you are supposed to stand for something; something right. I not only stood for what is still felt between us, but I stood for you, and everything that would make what is between us, stronger. I broke my knees from the weight of the efforts, and I collapsed, only to find ways to stand again. I've built my own splints, stilts, and casts from all of the conflicting and rhythmical emotions that have been and are inside of me, which held my head high, despite the heart that hangs from and out of my mouth. By now, I'm used to spitting it up with every word that comes out from the bottom of my lungs. My neck breaks from the weight of my mind over every word and memory of you that I think, imagine, and play out, and I hardly remember what it means to walk straight anymore. Your void keeps me off balance, and when I think that my spine has finally once again found its directness and reclaimed its inflexibility, your memory, and your ghost come to bend my figure back into an arch, bringing it back to the realizations of its irrationalities. My heart has shaken from its original place, and I feel its beating in my stomach now. I taste it in every word that I speak. I spit it up with every memory that places itself in front of me. And my eyes grow empty as I watch every one of them replay in front of me, reminding me of what I don't have.

I sit in a theatre, in my own head; one seat, one screen, one girl, and countless memories. My heart stays steady with unease, and I remind myself to breathe steadily. Somehow though, my breath still escapes me here, and my sanity leaves me reeling. But I've long known that unpleasant lives come only to those who let it; at least in my situation. I won't let life beat me down, and I stand by that statement. So despite your absence that was brought about so selfishly; and still, despite the growing arches of my body, I watch. Still, I restrain my breaking neck, and I hold it high, as I spite the casts and the pains that have become tenants within them. Still, I swallow, despite the taste; despite that sickening, unsettling taste. And still, I watch, despite its pain.

I have heard two distinct definitions of men. The kind that define themselves by their abilities to ignore all emotion and show of heart, because they have decided to consider feelings a weakness, and the kind that define themselves by sincerity and their abilities to focus clearly on all emotion, which they have decided to consider a strength. I have tried my best to become these and everything in between, to a balanced position that doesn't weigh towards either side unfavorably, and I will continue to follow through with this to the best of my abilities.

Because like the first, you must have the strength to move forward, but you must also possess the emotional understanding of why you're moving forward, or else it will be for nothing.
And like the second, you must have the emotional understanding of yourself, but you must also have the strength to move forward when the time is called for, no matter how much that it may hurt you. This is why there is no in-between, and why most men who fall into either of these categories struggle so badly with life's situations which aren't in their favor. Just like the breach that I once even found myself lost in.

Here in this lies a definite frustration which I hold towards you: Your ability to move forward without the full emotional understanding of the situation or why you're moving forward, and your ability to move forward while entirely ignoring your heart to the best of your abilities. In a sense it's not even 'moving forward.' Just turning your back to a situation, and moving away from it, trying your best to forget it. You can hardly grow for the better as a person, like this. You are supposed to face your obstacles. This is one reason why I gave you more. And every time that I began to move forward, you had the knowledge of knowing that my heart weighed heavier than it ever has before, and so did I, and still, so do I. But you have failed to meet me with this. You have failed to meet me on many different levels, and so unfortunately, I've grown used to it. You were something else when our first spark lit inside of us; something that I thought that I would never amount to, or be deserving of.

And with the heaviest of hearts, I have to admit that you have let that part of me down tremendously. And in the back of my own head, I constantly repeat the worries of hoping to God that I've never done the same to you, no matter how sure that I am of myself that I didn't. Because if there is a god, I have no idea how I would ever be able to look him/her in the eye and explain my reasoning for it; because simply put, there is no reasoning for it. Most people are so feeble minded that they only make excuse after excuse for these types of situations and their actions. And unfortunately, it's because most people aren't decent enough human beings to be able to admit it to themselves either. Self-reflection is a miracle, only when thought through with grounded feet.

So I stand with a buckling frame that hasn't a guarantee of whether it will hold together or not. I've learned that the right ways can often be the hardest, physically and mentally, and sometimes the vision of your own two legs standing on their own and the simple thought of the normal stances that you typically take may be as disheartening as any struggle that you've clawed your way uphill before. I stand against an overwhelming number of mindsets that find themselves restrained to only the simplest forms of thinking and consideration, but I'm no better; I mean no condescension. I just have a heavier conscience; I see the potential that does exist within compassion instead of selfishness; why can't they?

That extra length that they're always talking about going for somebody; you know, that extra mile? Well, it's only a mile; it's not that far, I promise.

But with such restraint towards kindness, honor, and integrity in this place, I have become a rusting and crumbling machine bearing the weight of the world on each gear, and at times my frame becomes questionable and the scraping of the metal deems its promises of safety to be dishonest. But there is more to my frame than just rusting and rotting limbs; this outer shell lies; it's backwards. Because even the weight of the world won't cave into the cavity that holds my heart in place or even into my very frame surrounding it. Not the weight of the world, or the seas, or even the oceans. It's funny isn't it? How only she can get to me there.

I haven't written in some time. It's not that I couldn't. I actually thought that I could stray from my writings of you, but I was foolish. Its been hard accepting the truth of our overcoming of each other, and I won't lie: this latest entry has also been hard in its own sense; its taken me some time. I told myself that I would give myself that time to get my mind right, or at least to reassure that it's right; and right now, I think that it's right. But as I know and am convinced that you're enwrapped in the arms of someone new right now, I've grown okay enough to live beside it; to be able to live my life to the fullest despite the anchor that your absence and new loves twist around my feet. I don't agree with it; but I can look it in the eyes and continue with my life regardless of its dull and blank stare; regardless of the unraveling ties between your heart and mine that wear away every single minute, or at least what's left of them; I at least know that I have got mine. But still I can exhale and honestly admit that I am okay; in every sense that doesn't involve feelings for another at least. At this point I am confined into nothing more than brick walls with exits signs that burnt out a very long time ago, and the exit doors have been boarded shut. The only light that I find in this tunnel and within your new loves is your happiness that comes with it. The rest of the time, my eyes dilate.

I once wrote about a mountain that I stood on, waiting for you. Do you remember? My hands were bleeding from all of the uphill climbing that it took me to get there. And with your picture forcing my muscles' movements, I hardly hesitated at each and every new wound and opening. I focused onto your outline distanced at the top of the wall in front of me. I watched it grow closer as my heart equally eased itself; my tension released. But when I came within distance, I realized that your outline wasn't really you, and my eyes burned at the sight and realization of what was only your ghost. My mind screamed and my pace grew as quickly as it could. But despite as hard as I tried; despite as fast as my arms and legs could scramble; as I grew nearer, your vision only faded, and you wept and sang to me of all of our missed opportunities and our unfulfilled potential. You cried of our unintentional offsets and all of the simple misunderstandings that our hearts became buried in. You hummed the tunes of our warmth and safety being ripped right from us. I leapt in desperation to hear you come to ease; my heart couldn't bare it. And finally at your feet I reached my hand out, breathing with the relief that I had made it to you. I smiled, and exhaled. But I extended my hand, only for your vision to finally fade away within it. My eyes grew empty, and the life inside of them took a seat onto the cold floor. I dropped my heart, and I dropped my head, and your singing grew faint. It echoed into an exit, ringing in, but mostly out of my mind. And with my head down I matched her words perfectly and instead, I didn't let the humming, or the song, die out; I knew the tune. Because I never told you that the entire way up I sang it to myself too. I knew of our misapprehensions; I studied them inside and out, and I was determined to resolve them; it's one of the many reasons that pushed me up here. So I made it to the top of this mountain; this test; only to find myself lost from you. At times I scream out your name in every direction around me. I tune in, I strain my mind, and I exhaust my body, just heeding your response.

Every day I find myself waiting on this same plateau; I awake onto it. And every day it stays the same; at least my emotional placement on it does. I do not sway and I do not change. Because I know in my head and my heart what I want, what exists, what doesn't exist, and what deserves to be shown or not when it comes to my emotions and wantings. Loneliness tends to be momentary; momentary. I'm wise enough to compare momentary feelings to undying ones. I'm wise enough to distinguish between the two. And I'm wise enough to know which one conquers which. Unfortunately, I've met far too many individuals who would sacrifice an eternal feeling for a very short-lived one. The pure ignorance and lack of patience gags my every reflex. More than half of you sell yourselves short of one of the most amazing things that life has to offer. Most of you are blind, and can't even see it. Because many of you can't or refuse to even begin to understand the true, uncorrupted meanings of love. What most of you consider an ultimate love is nothing but the very beginnings to its true definition. That mistake won't be mine to carry, and that mistake won't be mine to make, although even you, lover, have made it.

I have become a slave to this mountain. I have become stranded onto it. But instead of following the normal shipwrecked stories of the crew tossing bottled letters into the sea and engraving the words 'help' into the side of the island, I have chosen another proverb, which I pray that every passerby sees. I extend this hope to the world; I surrender my only hopes of escape from this place, to it. It needs it much more than I do.

To this dearest, incorrigible, and disrating world:
Love does exist.

And unconditional love does exist; the kinds that most hearts cannot fathom.
Whether I were to be the last to hold it, or not; that is not the point.
I am man enough to stand beside it and to defend it. And I am man enough to die with it; alone or not; with your hand in mine, or not.