stay gold Eddie (9-27)
Being a walking contradiction means a great deal of things. It means I have an open mind about a lot of things. It means that sometimes I can't decide because I get pulled in 2 different directions. It often means my mind and heart are in direct conflict with one another. It can be a fun adventure and a tiring redundancy. Mornings are filled with colors while night is black and white. Basically what I'm saying is that I'm confused but I know exactly what I want. Take that however you like. Perhaps some of you may even understand. One of the attractions I deal with being so contradictive in nature is the allure of extremes. I'm not talking about skydiving, extreme sports, or extreme behavior in society, but moreso extreme internal behavior. My emotions can be one way one hour and then the opposite the next. I liken it to a child's emotional state. It can be a very good thing. I find that I appreciate things more than other people, especially new things. It gives me an honest, basic perspective on life where everything can be so convoluted and intentionally blurred by some. It also can lead to a lot of pain very quickly. Imagine a child being told they won't be going to get ice cream after they were promised. Imagine that face. That's how I get sometimes. Now don't get me wrong, I don't pout or act like a child when I get disappointed but internally I carry that weight. It's weird, it really is. Have you ever seen the Outsiders, or perhaps read the book? At the end when Pony Boy reads Johnny's letter, Johnny tells Pony Boy to "stay gold". I plan to stay gold forever. I have a youthful heart and an old mind and together they make the unusual combination that is me.
A case in point was this past weekend. My friend Jen was getting married and I was an invitee. I'm always a little nervous about social gatherings, especially ones where I have to dress up a little, but after a short acclamation period I was fine. The wedding was outdoors, as was the reception underneath this massive tent/tarp. It was such a beautiful ceremony. I was so happy for Jen and her new husband. There were many people there I hadn't seen in awhile, some in longer than that. I felt this enormous amount of happiness and pride much as I do whenever any of my friends gets married. I left feeling good for someone else and I felt a warmness I carried to bed that night.
Now we'll fast forward to the next day. I woke up and I felt terrible. I felt this large amount of sadness and depression I haven't felt in a long time. Why? How do you just wake up sad? Were there sad dreams influencing my mood? I rarely remember my dreams, so I didn't know. I do remember rising from bed that morning feeling like someone placed a wet transparent blanket over me. My steps were labored, everything even my blinking seemed tiresome. My compulsion to ponder why I felt so bad kept me from fully including myself in my day's activities. Granted I did things that day. I watched a football game, played catch in the rain, went out to eat, etc. but I didn't feel like I was totally there. I went to bed Sunday night with feelings of dread that were now magnified due to having to get up early for work on Monday which always causes me dread. Regular Sunday night dread + extra I wish I could find someone to marry one day dread = Judge Dredd. Yes, it was that bad.
I labored through work Monday with a half hearted smile on my face when it wasn't a full-hearted frown. I think a few people could tell I was feeling bad but I think most people assumed it was because Buffalo lost the football game the day before. I wasn't telling. Before the end of the day it was starting to occur to me why I felt so emotionally ill... I was reaaaaaaaaally lonely. I've been single for the better part of the last 3 and a half years. I've dated or met new women a few times, but none of it ever works out. I admit I'm a bit of a unique character. I'm an acquired taste because I am not like most guys. Top that off with my own levels of incredibly high standards and that's a surefire recipe for loneliness. My standards have always been high, even as far back as high school and what that has given me are great crushes on girls who are "out of my league" and numerous rejections. On the few occasions I've been able to make it through, I've felt blessed, if there is such a thing. You see, since my standards are so high when I do fall for someone and it's reciprocated I treat them like they are the greatest woman ever. I put my girlfriends up on pedestals and worship them. I love hard and passionately. It's the same passion you'll find inside of me from time to time doing the menial things I love to do. I wear my emotions on my sleeve like cufflinks. It's why I'm not a good liar. So I have a confession for you: I am not an android.
Despite the height of all the warm feelings seeing a friend getting married gave me, the depths of wishing I had someone equally special were deep. People will often tell you; "don't worry you'll meet someone perfect for you one of these days", but I don't want to hear that. I respect and value people's compassion but truthfully I don't want to hear that. When you are 22, you hear something like that and you blow it off and think of course I will. When you are 32 and you hear that, you begin to wonder if it's even true, so at the risk of sounding a little insensitive, I don't want to hear that. What I want to hear is "Hi, I'm (insert female name here), I love romance, words, sports, intimacy, dorkiness, generosity, kindness, movies, little things, music, and I think you are the cutest, funniest, sweetest person ever, wanna play scrabble and then watch the game?" ... Well, a guy can dream can't he?
Well, it's been a few days now and I feel close to my usual silly neurotic self. My sadness slowly fades but leaves an echo still audible even at my loudest moments. Do I eventually just grow up and settle for someone who's not so bad, or do I continue to dream? Don Quixote didn't stop dreaming. Neither did Martin Luther King. Of course those were different dreams. Then again, why should I quantify dreams? People dream all the time and no matter how big those hopes get to be, they remain who they are, no more no less. So my dreams are big and there's a price to pay for having them. Through all the hope and pain and romanticizing and doubt, I remain Edwin.
Being a walking contradiction means a great deal of things. It means I have an open mind about a lot of things. It means that sometimes I can't decide because I get pulled in 2 different directions. It often means my mind and heart are in direct conflict with one another. It can be a fun adventure and a tiring redundancy. Mornings are filled with colors while night is black and white. Basically what I'm saying is that I'm confused but I know exactly what I want. Take that however you like. Perhaps some of you may even understand. One of the attractions I deal with being so contradictive in nature is the allure of extremes. I'm not talking about skydiving, extreme sports, or extreme behavior in society, but moreso extreme internal behavior. My emotions can be one way one hour and then the opposite the next. I liken it to a child's emotional state. It can be a very good thing. I find that I appreciate things more than other people, especially new things. It gives me an honest, basic perspective on life where everything can be so convoluted and intentionally blurred by some. It also can lead to a lot of pain very quickly. Imagine a child being told they won't be going to get ice cream after they were promised. Imagine that face. That's how I get sometimes. Now don't get me wrong, I don't pout or act like a child when I get disappointed but internally I carry that weight. It's weird, it really is. Have you ever seen the Outsiders, or perhaps read the book? At the end when Pony Boy reads Johnny's letter, Johnny tells Pony Boy to "stay gold". I plan to stay gold forever. I have a youthful heart and an old mind and together they make the unusual combination that is me.
A case in point was this past weekend. My friend Jen was getting married and I was an invitee. I'm always a little nervous about social gatherings, especially ones where I have to dress up a little, but after a short acclamation period I was fine. The wedding was outdoors, as was the reception underneath this massive tent/tarp. It was such a beautiful ceremony. I was so happy for Jen and her new husband. There were many people there I hadn't seen in awhile, some in longer than that. I felt this enormous amount of happiness and pride much as I do whenever any of my friends gets married. I left feeling good for someone else and I felt a warmness I carried to bed that night.
Now we'll fast forward to the next day. I woke up and I felt terrible. I felt this large amount of sadness and depression I haven't felt in a long time. Why? How do you just wake up sad? Were there sad dreams influencing my mood? I rarely remember my dreams, so I didn't know. I do remember rising from bed that morning feeling like someone placed a wet transparent blanket over me. My steps were labored, everything even my blinking seemed tiresome. My compulsion to ponder why I felt so bad kept me from fully including myself in my day's activities. Granted I did things that day. I watched a football game, played catch in the rain, went out to eat, etc. but I didn't feel like I was totally there. I went to bed Sunday night with feelings of dread that were now magnified due to having to get up early for work on Monday which always causes me dread. Regular Sunday night dread + extra I wish I could find someone to marry one day dread = Judge Dredd. Yes, it was that bad.
I labored through work Monday with a half hearted smile on my face when it wasn't a full-hearted frown. I think a few people could tell I was feeling bad but I think most people assumed it was because Buffalo lost the football game the day before. I wasn't telling. Before the end of the day it was starting to occur to me why I felt so emotionally ill... I was reaaaaaaaaally lonely. I've been single for the better part of the last 3 and a half years. I've dated or met new women a few times, but none of it ever works out. I admit I'm a bit of a unique character. I'm an acquired taste because I am not like most guys. Top that off with my own levels of incredibly high standards and that's a surefire recipe for loneliness. My standards have always been high, even as far back as high school and what that has given me are great crushes on girls who are "out of my league" and numerous rejections. On the few occasions I've been able to make it through, I've felt blessed, if there is such a thing. You see, since my standards are so high when I do fall for someone and it's reciprocated I treat them like they are the greatest woman ever. I put my girlfriends up on pedestals and worship them. I love hard and passionately. It's the same passion you'll find inside of me from time to time doing the menial things I love to do. I wear my emotions on my sleeve like cufflinks. It's why I'm not a good liar. So I have a confession for you: I am not an android.
Despite the height of all the warm feelings seeing a friend getting married gave me, the depths of wishing I had someone equally special were deep. People will often tell you; "don't worry you'll meet someone perfect for you one of these days", but I don't want to hear that. I respect and value people's compassion but truthfully I don't want to hear that. When you are 22, you hear something like that and you blow it off and think of course I will. When you are 32 and you hear that, you begin to wonder if it's even true, so at the risk of sounding a little insensitive, I don't want to hear that. What I want to hear is "Hi, I'm (insert female name here), I love romance, words, sports, intimacy, dorkiness, generosity, kindness, movies, little things, music, and I think you are the cutest, funniest, sweetest person ever, wanna play scrabble and then watch the game?" ... Well, a guy can dream can't he?
Well, it's been a few days now and I feel close to my usual silly neurotic self. My sadness slowly fades but leaves an echo still audible even at my loudest moments. Do I eventually just grow up and settle for someone who's not so bad, or do I continue to dream? Don Quixote didn't stop dreaming. Neither did Martin Luther King. Of course those were different dreams. Then again, why should I quantify dreams? People dream all the time and no matter how big those hopes get to be, they remain who they are, no more no less. So my dreams are big and there's a price to pay for having them. Through all the hope and pain and romanticizing and doubt, I remain Edwin.