What Is And What Should Never Be, Part II.

"She's mostly gone.... some other place. I'm getting by.... in other ways." - Trent Reznor


For the first time in a very long time, I found myself in that thing called love once more. And just like the last time, all those years ago, it turned on me just as quickly. Not as bad this time as the last, I suppose, but bad enough.

What began as an innocent, humble, sweet thing grew into something else entirely. I'm not blameless in this reality, of course, but I'm certainly not the sole guilty party either. I'm getting ahead of myself.... where do I begin?

Early last September, perhaps. That's when I met my sweetheart: A beautiful girl in a million ways with the deepest set of oceanic green eyes. From the beginning, my instincts told me that she was different than all of the other flames from my past - and they were right: She was different. Gracefully so. As kindred as another spirit could be to myself - what little of an emotional range I'm known for having and all.

She understood me in a way that almost no one else ever did. We both had similar literary interests, similar goals, similar political beliefs, and we even grew up in the same city evidently. But even all of that wasn't enough to salvage the downward spiral that I felt as time dragged along. Everything devolved.

Things went from her and I actively talking about the things that I enjoyed to her telling me to shut up about them, from her pleasantly asking things of me to her demanding them from me, from her taking an interest in this very blog page that I've worked hard on since I was fifteen years old to her constantly attacking it over a single post that she didn't like, from her introducing me to her loved ones to her expecting me to be an extroverted social butterfly at gatherings filled with people I'd never met before, all the way down from her being the shy girl who I fell in love with to being the forcefully demanding person who I came to find myself with towards the end.

But, like I said: It wasn't all her fault. I have my share of the blame. One thing in particular that I regret was not taking the time out to explain to her that while I'm extremely reserved in person that I'm almost entirely open with my life on my blog page - and elsewhere - in my literary life; Any place where I can write is a place that I regard as my domain - it's my element, and safe to say, the only place where I can substancially vent. Afterall, that's how I gained this decent-sized fanbase of mine: By being real on the net. I can definately see how something as unexpected and revealing as that might've caught her off guard.

Of course, though, throughout the lifespan of this blog page, she hasn't been the first person to get pissed at me over the way they've interpretted my portrayal of them on here. Surely, anyone who's been following me since the original MySpace days will remember the similar incidents that I've had in the past with Jason, Mia, and my Mom. But when all is said and done, I still vigorously defend my right to express my point of view on any topic that I please - personal or otherwise - since they're facts about my life and filtered through my point of view.

I mean, by getting pissy at me over a blog post that I wrote would theoretically be just as bad as getting pissy at me because I made a joke while that person had the same right to counter anything that I'd written or said with a blog post or joke of their own. I would never try to edit or censor myself out of someone's poem or song, for example, just because I didn't necessarily like the way that they portrayed me in it. One thing that I've learned in my twenty years on this planet is that you've got to roll with the punches - everyone's not always going to like what you have to say, so why not just be up front with how you feel? But that's a whole other argument for a different day.

Something else that I blame myself for in reference to my relationship with her would be my selfish fright of potentially losing my self-identity had I fully given myself over to her. And, truth be told, she deserved better than that. On the flipside, though, my reasoning for keeping myself closed-off at some level seemed justified to me given her sudden forceful nature after a while which threatened my individuality. Even given my polite ways, I wouldn't consider myself a henpecked guy and I'd like to keep it that way.

I'm not a person who's used to being in a relationship or any other circumstance where I was expected to answer to anyone else. All those years of heartbreak, rejection, and the ugly subsequent isolation of singleness that followed both circumstances have molded me into the closed-off and non-dependant person who I am today. I keep my feelings to myself, outside of my work, and perhaps that's my fault for choosing to be as quiet and reserved as I am in my life - even given the fact that that's the way I've always been with everyone since childhood.

Whatever the matter, the bottom line is that my poetess and I are no more. Our Artimis and Cassandra will never come to pass.... and there's blame on both sides. Perhaps the two of us were so much alike that we repelled each other the way that two powerful magnets might if put too close together. Our mutual stubborness wouldn't allow either of us to give an inch for the other person, and I'm sure we both had our reasons for that.

But it's what it is.... and now we can be free. Happy New Year.