I am a shitty human being

Looking over my blog and clicking at random posts, I've come to the realization that I suck.

I suck.

And I don't have a sense of humility within me.

There's a block that exists within my mind, that makes me egotisical, arrogant, self-centered.

I'm sick of reading about how much I want to find true love.

I'm sick of reading the posts where I ramble on mindlessly like I know what I'm talking about.

I'm tired of feeling sorry for myself, or trying too hard to write something funny.

Sure, being a character can make for interesting stories, but this is not the kind of person I want to be.

It feels like I'm missing something. Something important about myself that I haven't yet realized or been made aware of. But everyone else understands it on some level that escapes my understanding.

Maybe I'm just dumb. Or maybe it's something else. Maybe I'm over confident. Cocky. Insincere.

Whatever it is, I don't like it.

Am I commenting on my true self, or am I becoming aware of a flaw that must be overcome?

One of the things that I think it might be, is that I don't stop to consider my words very well. I don't put too much thought into the things that I say. In some of my posts, I feel like I'm expressing high school humor. In others, I feel excessively melodramatic that it erodes whatever it is I'm writing about. Like, it's not as sincere when it's delivered in a "know-it-all" tone.

I agree with that. I think that's what it is.

I don't "think" enough. I need to.. tap into my essence more. Into my true feelings.

Something is being masked here. I'm certain of it. Some kind of deficiency.

Insecurity is probably what it is.

I'm insecure. Unsure.

So.. this would be a trust issue I'm dealing with.

One that involves myself. And what I'm capable of.

That makes sense.

I have to think about this some more...

I need to change.

volition

The night is quiet at two in the morning. A lone motorcycle in the distance can be heard. It is cold in my room, but I only have myself to blame for that because I’m laying here, without a blanket and wearing only a thin pair of pajamas and a t-shirt.

My thoughts turn to Leah, the woman that killed what was left of my faith in humanity. I think of making her a mix cd, but decide against it yet I still move songs around on the iPod, putting them in the best order I can. My intent is probably to create a listening experience to mirror the short time we spent together. To encapuslate it. A kind of audio photograph for lack of a better description.

A breath leaves my body, making me feel uncomfortable to be made aware of. It’s a strange sensation to notice, something that I do thousands of times each day, yet alien just the same.

I think of my soul. How corrupted it is. How.. dirty it is. Not to say that it has been marred by acts of immorality, although it has -- but the dirt, the dirt of a life lived in fear, doubt, mistrust, hopelessness. It stains me in a way that makes me ashamed to get up out of bed each morning, and hesitant to sleep, for fear that I will not awake if I do.

On my right hand, is a hairband that I have found years ago. One summer, I was seized by the inexplicable urge to collect stray hairbands whenever I would spot one laying on the ground. In my suitcase, there is a pocket containing dozens of these things. All shapes and sizes, from the smallest loop that barely would fit around two fingers, to ones that glitter in the sunlight. At the moment, I am wearing an inconspicuous black one that is partly frayed, I suspect it is only a matter of time before it snaps.

The sound of traffic reaches my ears once again. Penetrating through deaf ears that are rested upon pillows, oblivious to the world. Ears that laid alone, or with other ears, attached to bodies that pressed close against one another.

Ears, like mine, are destined to be forever alone.

But I shouldn’t think that. As haggard and frayed my soul is, much like the hairband, it still refuses to give up. It still believes in something greater than myself. Something more. Something I have yet to experience, but I know on an intuitive level that it is approaching. For a long time, I used to think that such a feeling could only be called hope.

After Leah, I am not quite sure if it is hope I’m experiencing.

Or a delusion of my own making.

The loneliness weighs heavily on me. My faith is wavering. My trust is gone. My words are empty and without meaning. Everything I see, hear and do, feels like an exercise in futility. Like I am miming or mimicking the correct way to behave, knowing that at the end of the day, I will be in bed, tired and alone.

Alone.

Typing the word scares me a little. “Alone.” I say it out loud, my voice carrying a tone of sincerity. I say it again and it almost seems like a shirt hanging on the rack at a clothing store that I am considering to try on. Alone. Alone. Alone. I repeat, wondering if it suits me.

It does not. It never has.

My biggest flaw, is that I tend to live for others and not for myself. I don’t generate my own happiness very well when I am without a relationship. I need a projection, a defined individual for me to live my life for. Someone that occupies my thoughts, and I in turn. I call it my biggest flaw, simply because it’s not the right way for a person to live. To live in service or worship of another. True happiness is entirely dependent on how an individual perceives their present state of being. If they are content, then happiness results. If they lack, then sadness.

Lack. I murmur the word, feeling my tongue touch the roof of my mouth, trying it on.

It suits me well.

But lack, that could be considered an expression of discontent. One does not truly lack, as long as air enters their lungs. One lacks only when the ego is simply saying: “I want more than this.”

The ego. My arch-nemesis. I am torn between the things that I want and the things that I think I would need.

And I wonder, do I truly need them? I would like to say yes, I do, but I can’t be sure if I would feel complete once I acquire them.

I am unsure if I would start to become whole.

Just because, what I want and what I need; are two different things. One, is what I consciously desire, the other only serves to confuse rather than illuminate my understanding, simply because I am unable to really know what it is I must need. Air, water, food, shelter, clothing. Those are the basics. Relationships, wealth, power, prestige. Those are harder to determine.

Many years ago, while working at a job I hated, I used to tell myself that the only way to get to Heaven was to go through Hell. It made sense at the time, because greater appreciation comes from being given what you once lacked. Or perceive as lacking. Appreciation is an expression of gratitude. It is a certain type of satisfaction that can only arise from the lack thereof. A million dollars is not appreciated nearly as much by one who has billions than it would be to a transient who is living homeless on the street. Contrast is how we define the things we appreciate and identify what we lack, or desire more of.

There can be no darkness, if there is always light. There can be no suffering, if there is only joy. There can be no cruelty if there is only compassion.

And so forth. The contrast has to be there before a distinction can be made and a judgement earned.

This gets me wondering. Suffering, joy, cruelty, compassion are elements of behaviour and emotion. Suffering, is to experience a profound sense of discomfort, physically, mentally or spiritually. Joy, is the antonym of suffering. Compassion is the act of bestowing sympathy without selfish intentions involved, otherwise it would then be called pity. Cruelty, is the direct or indirect act of behaving with maliciousness towards another person, it is the opposite of compassion. The reason why I mentioned indirect, is that cruelty has many facets, but it all comes down to what the intention behind the action is.

The more I think about such things, the more I begin to understand what evil truly is. It is not cruelty, maliciousness, hate, bigotry or selfishness; it is all and none of those things. When you distill evil and break it down to it’s very basic form, you end up with a surprising result.

Ignorance.

To be evil, is to be ignorant.

Deliberately ignorant. Even unintentional ignorance, could be construed as an evil way of being.

Ignorance and indifference. Both require a conscious decision to make. When one chooses to ignore the plight of another, it is a choice that is being made. This does not necessarily mean action must be taken. It does not require any effort to be compassionately complacent and to keep a clear conscience.

But it is a decision that I find I must make.

When my heart swells at the sight of a beggar and I do not give any aid or assistance, that is not indifference. Nor is it ignorance.

When another person wrinkles their nose in disgust, and produces some pocket change; that is ignorance and pity working in tandem.

The difference between the two appears clear. Both are decisions. They may not have been consciously decided upon, but they are choices nonetheless.

I have made the choice.

History is full of examples of people demonstrating that the things we presume that we need, are inessential. There is a curiosity aimed towards those who remain celibate for many years by choice, or go without eating meat, or are content to live in a cave. Examples abound of people living meaningful lives without having to need certain things.

So then, is it a choice? It is. So what causes us to feel lack? Our egos. Our assumptions that we need certain things. They are assumptions, make no mistake about it.

What is it that we truly need? Abraham Maslow’s hierarchy of needs suggest the very basics:

Food, water, sex, breathing, excretion, homeostasis and sleep.

I do dispute listing sex as a basic need, however.

Up the level, once those needs are met, we then have the need for security. That we can be assured of our future survival. Our health, employment, food, wealth and so on. Reasonable.

Then comes friends, family and sexual intimacy. Very curious that Maslow would list sex again, as a third-level need.

Self esteem, confidence, respect of others and yourself. That’s the next level.

At the very top lies morality, creativity, spontaneity, problem solving, lack of prejudice and acceptance of facts. Again, those are apparently crucial needs.

What is interesting to me, is that Maslow has forgotten the most important need of all.

Purpose. We need to have direction in our lives. To go towards a goal. Whether it’s securing your property, or having sex; we all need to strive towards something. Purpose should be right at the bottom, alongside water and sleep. A life lived without purpose, is not a life at all.

The very top of this pyramid, listing morality and such, have to do with self-actualization. The fulfillment of your purpose. Or the expression thereof of striving towards it, so I suppose it is accounted for.

But what of those who have not discovered their purpose? How is one to achieve their fullest potential when they are unsure of what to do?

That’s the puzzle. You cannot be given purpose, you decide upon it. What prompts a decision to move towards a specific endeavour? Your personal sense of worth, your values, your interests, goals, notions of morality, values.. All of these add up.

Still, parlaying one’s potential into making a living is not an easy thing to achieve. Most people do not end up the way they’ve imagined themselves to. Dreams are dashed and many choose to accept something less in exchange for something more.

Usually, this comes in the form of security. A well paying job and a family to look after beats out deciding to become a writer, or a farmer. There are risks involved and for many, the less the better.

I’m not sure where this tangent will take me to, but it seems like I’m approaching some level of clarity in just typing this.

Maybe, it’s all about risk. How far are you willing to go, to achieve your dream? What would it take to get to where you want to be? And can you sacrifice everything in order to make it come true?

Maybe that’s the answer. Assuming you have a strong interest pointed in a specific direction...

A writer must write. Constantly. He must love language, stories and is able to feel passionate about what he does, when he does it. He must know the rules of writing, using correct grammar, punctuation, spelling, et cetera.

It all comes down to how determined you are. How many successful people exist who can claim that they didn’t really work hard to get to where they are at? I’m sure exceptions exist for those born with a silver spoon in their mouth, but for the most part, it truly is up to the individual to achieve their ends.

But.. How far is one willing to go? How much is one willing to sacrifice?

I think the answer is clear.

Everything.

Done

...for now.

picking up the pieces

It's been twelve days since I entered NaNoWriMo -- an annual challenge to aspiring writers to complete a novel in thirty days. Or less. 50k is the expected word count, which translates to about 1,300 words per day I'm guessing.

At the moment, my attempt titled: "Puer Aeternus: The Electric Messiah" not only has an intriguing name, but a plot as well. Rather than spoil anything (even to myself) by describing what I have in store (and what will end up surprising me as I go along) -- I can only say that this is the most exciting test of my writing abilities I have ever faced.

So far in 12 days, I've managed to get it up t0 26,000+ words. According to the NaNoWriMo stat engine, I should be on track to completion by November 23rd. Two days before people are expected to sub their novel to verify whether they've reached 50,000 words or not.

Not only am I on track, but I am seeing potential. Potential for this book to become something huge once NaNo packs it's bags and heads out to sunny pastures until next November. The story I've somehow began telling, is mutating grotesquely into something that I think can easily reach 80k if not more, by the time I'm finished with it.

I'm excited with the way I manage to close each chapter with a mini-cliffhanger. I don't like the idea of patting myself on the back, but it's tempting not to when I've looked at what I've done up to this point.

So far, I'm halfway to acquiring a "prize", likely to be a t-shirt and a complimentary icon next to my name on the forums there. Not a big deal, it's not why I'm writing to begin with.

I'm writing to make the world into a better place. Yes, I know. It's a science-fiction novel but it has it's redeeming values, chief among them is the bit of spirituality I've inserted. Teasing the reader into considering questions regarding the nature of God, the definition of a soul and the future that inevitably awaits us all, if we aren't careful.

All that is wrapped snugly in this blanket I've designed. It's fast paced, visceral and lean as hell. I try to make every word count in service of the story I'm telling and so far, I really enjoy the process and hope it will turn out in a way that I can be proud of accomplishing.

==

In other news, Leah. Leah... LEAH.

I .. am .. speechless whenever I think of her. The things she said, how it all turned out and the way I ended up being nothing more than a freak for following through on the things we first talked about. About being honest and generous with our feelings. And after last night with Jerry, I began to realize some truths.

Women don't want TOO MUCH of what they claim to ask for. They want honesty, sure, but not too much of it. They want to be loved, but not too much of it. They want everything, but not too much of it.

They want.. I don't know, authenticity? They can't seem to make their minds up. And with Leah, she was the first person in a long while that I've bared my soul towards. Who I thought bared hers with me.

That was so not the case. I'm feeling bitter these days.. Looking at her pictures once in a while, trying to figure out how I should "act" in a relationship. And whether or not I'd be able to find the woman I'm meant for. And if I already have -- whether or not I can suffer the consequences of my being too desirous of finding true love.

I really don't know how you can tell someone it's "forever" and promises all kind of things, only to recant later on. I don't get it. My faith in humanity feels broken. I don't know how am I going to approach my next relationship. But I do know that being emotionally generous is going to come with a heavy price tag that will need to be earned, not granted immediately from the start.

I hate myself sometimes. Thinking I'm a piece of shit with his mind dreaming of things that he cannot possible hope to achieve. That I'm afraid to face reality and take myself down to the level that most everyone else is at.

When I mentioned that to Leah, she encouraged me not to think that way. "I feel like I should get my head out from the clouds." "No. Don't." Well.. See what happens when I listen to other people when I become honest with my feelings?

I don't get it anymore. I just don't "get" .. "it". Earlier this year I said that being true to myself was the most important thing to strive towards.

I don't know what happened. I thought I kept true, but obviously I didn't. Or it wasn't enough. Or it was too weird, too scary...

Too much.

Being true to myself at this very instant would have me saying:

Fuck this world.

But something .. something is still within me that sheds a tear. Something still "feels" down below.. I haven't killed the part I love about myself most. It's still alive. Barely. But it's there and it's going to need some time before it feels safe enough to appear again.

I just fucking feel broken. But I can't give up hope. I just can't. I have to push. To struggle. To try. To dream. That's who I am. It's who I've always been.

It's who I will be.

Until the day I die.

...

And it's done. Leah and I are finished.

I swear to fucking God someone up there is laughing at me.

I don't know how to act in a relationship anymore, what to do, what to say.

All I did was be as honest as possible. As gentlemanly as I could. As loving as I could give.

And it wasn't enough.

It's NEVER ENOUGH.

I am so sick of dating. Relationships. Throwing my heart out whenever I find someone I enjoy being with and then having it curb-stomped like nothing ever mattered.

I am so fucking sick of this.

I don't know what to do now.

If I can trust anyone again.

How long before I feel optimistic about getting back to dating.

It's all because of her.

The woman you see pictured in the blog post below.

The woman I wanted to love.

Leah.

Fuck you, God.

a puzzle appears

Being with Leah these past few days, have really got me to thinking about what love is.

What is it? How can it be properly described? What should one expect when "in love" with another person?

Are there different types of love? Certainly. Romantic, friendly, benevolent, platonic love..

But, what does Leah and I have?

I'll admit to feeling honestly confused at the moment. My depiction of love involves PDA, lots of smiles, hand holding, kisses, sex, affection, bright gleaming eyes between the two of us.

And.. with Leah, I don't know where I stand.

She is the love of my life, but it's not what I quite expected it to be.

I'm thinking at the moment, that I may not be living up to her expectations. And I hate that. I hate waking up next to her in bed and not being able to properly hear her through a sleepy voice. I hate having to pretend like I understand exactly everything she's telling me.

I dislike reaching for her, stroking her hair, running my hand down her body and not really getting as much of it in return.

Am I greedy? Pushy? Selfish? Ordinarily I would admit to being overly affectionate, but when we aren't connecting properly on an emotional level because of my hearing (and my stuffed up ears, which really doesn't help) .. I get scared thinking that I am going to lose her if I keep this up.

These pretenses. Pretending like I can hear and appreciate every word she's saying.

I hate that. I hate it so much.

This woman confessed her love for me before we even met. As have I. We've pledged our dedication to one another, again -- before us having met and our texts are still going along seamlessly.

But I can't help but wonder if this is enough. I don't think it is. I want real love.. Genuine, heartfelt love. And I want to feel convinced by it. I need her to say I love you out of the blue to me first, instead of me saying it. I want her to be excited by me, without really having to try.

And the big thing in all this is, why does she love me? How loyal will she end up being to me? And I to her?

I love her so much. I could not have asked for a better person to spend the rest of my life with.

But something inside of me is tearing itself apart. My expectations and my inability to really be the man I want to be when I am with her.

The man she deserves to be with.

I am trying. I am trying my hardest and I don't want this to fail. By God, I can't allow this to fail. How often does an opportunity like this come by? To be loved unconditionally? Even if it doesn't quite meet up to what I expect from it.

I have to try. I must try. I need to find a way.

I'm going to have to consider hearing aids. I really do. I think it's at that point where I cannot function well without them.

And I need to write. Write my freakin' ass off. If I am able to work towards a career that will enable me to do what I love for a living. To be able to provide Leah with the things I would like her to have.

A remodelled bathroom, for one :)

Maybe a nicer house.

I just want her to be happy. Until the end of her days. Or mine. Whichever comes first.

I don't want to annoy her with my snoring. My smoking. My rumbling stomach while we sleep. My hearing.

I don't want to be anything but the best I can be when I am with her.

I hope I don't fail in this.

I WILL not fail in this.

Hearing test next week. I need to see what my options are.

God. Please be on my side with this.

I owe you one.

words do not suffice

My life is forever changed.

Because of Leah.

the fun rolls on

Last night was terrible. It really was. Meeting Amanda for the first time, really put into perspective how sick I am of dating.

The first truly crazy girl I've ever met.

There was trouble the moment we sat down at Red Robins and she would talk so godawfully loud that people were looking at us. She's a bartender at a busy Whyte Avenue bar. So it figures.

Then the revelations. How she treated her ex-boyfriend. What she is looking for in a relationship. Divulging that she is on anti-depressants and smokes weed on a daily basis. Doesn't own a car. Looks almost nothing like her eHarmony photo. The list goes on.

But I sucked it up. I treated her with as much respect as I could. I joked. I teased. I smiled. I hugged. I paid for dinner and didn't tuck tail and run, five minutes into meeting her.

I even kissed her when I dropped her off. It didn't matter to me that this girl was a headcase to the nth degree; I just felt like making someone happy.

And the kiss was really good. I smooth talked myself into it and briefly thought about us having sex afterwards (but really REALLY didn't want to) and.. the kiss was a real surprise for me.

It was about ten minutes of making out. And despite how unattractive she was, I really enjoyed it.

I left feeling good about myself. And I know she did as well.

I even texted her after, saying "you forgot your tonsils in the car" .. We did a little back and forth and I closed with, "that was a really good kiss :) thanks." Haven't heard from her since.

I guess she knew I wasn't interested without my having to say it. I don't care to find out her reasons or to pursue her for anything else, either.

In response to an earlier post, where I discussed putting up a topic entitled "most confusing new relationship ever. Help!" on Reddit; I had a couple of people write me direct emails that I've been keeping a correspondence with.

One guy in particular, named Guido -- Claims to be the relationship expert. He's read a lot of material about having to keep a woman, attracting them, how a man should act, etc. His comment history is a well-intentioned glossary of advice that he's dispensed in the r/relationships sub-Reddit.

So, I appreciated him being interested in my situation and asked him a simple question. I'll post his last email and my response here:

FROM GUIDO:

Sorry for taking so long to get back to you. After Thanksgiving I kind of forgot about this >^

I've always played with the idea of some side business that does relationship coaching for men, but I've never really put much effort behind it. I doubt you live in Montreal though :P If you do know of any potential clients, send them my way :D

The first step you need to take is accept the fact that as you are right now, you're terrible and you need help. This doesn't mean you're hopeless, it just means you have a lot of work to do. This is nothing to be ashamed of. Guys today don't have Cary Grant, they have Justin Bieber. Guys just don't know how to act like guys anymore and women aren't attracted to the emotional metro-sexual. You need to walk in to this with the mentality that 'I know nothing' otherwise you'll start challenging ideas based on what you think you 'know' when in reality you're very wrong. You trust your ego and your emotions and these two things hurt you constantly when it comes to romance. Once you get a set of tools, things will start to make sense. Until then a lot of the concepts that I'm going to get you to read will seem foreign to you, but they will start to make sense very quickly.

Step two: start reading everything. There is a ton of stuff on the internet and most of it's garbage. You need to start reading all of it so you start to get a picture of what it is guys are doing, good or bad. Be wary of selling tactics and tactics that prey on your emotions or feelings of insecurity. You can break all this down into 3 parts: basic interactions, relationship, sex.

Basic interactions: this is how you flirt and interact with a girl of interest. You need to start reading about techniques guy's use to flirt with girls and pick and practice the ones that feel right for you. The PUA stuff is great to get you started and I strongly recommend a book called 'the game'. The problem with the PUA stuff though, is it's just a guy putting on a scripted show. When he runs out of material, the show's over and the girl gets bored and leaves. A PUA doesn't care because he goes and gets girl #351 while failing to realize he's going to be single for life. The important part of all this is to learn how all this crap that they're doing is working. What is it about that scripted story they're saying is captivating the girl? Why are they wearing that outrageous hat? All these things are important. Do your best to look at it from a girl's perspective.

Relationship: There is no one better to read than this guy: http://ca.askmen.com/dating/doclove/ Read everything he's written - all 763 (and counting) articles and I'd buy his book. When reading the articles, start trying to predict his advice.

Sex: I can't help you out much here because to be honest, I don't know how to teach it. I'm lucky enough to be a guy that just 'gets' it. Read 'Pandora's Box' which you can find off a torrent. It will help you identify what kind of girl you've got and how to connect with her properly. Just try and focus on her and not yourself. If she has fun, you'll have fun ^_^

Hope this helps.

And here is what I wrote back:

FROM DAVE

Ugh.. I appreciate hearing from you after so long, but.. You advocate the PUA approach to relationships? I kind of lost a little respect after hearing that.

Because, look. (I've read the Game, as well as other PUA championed resources before) These methods, while effective -- do not enable a meaningful relationship that is not based on deception.

You pretend to be something you are not. The best side of yourself, which may include being emotional, sensitive, loving and caring; is FORCED to have a blanket thrown over and kept hidden from view. Because, chicks don't dig vulnerable guys. According to the PUA community.

They do fall for the "appearance" of a vulnerable guy -- who is often just a puppet acting out lines in his script and throws tidbits of "I cry during this movie" and being overly interested in pets, when they really are anything but.

You're giving me advice on how to get laid. I don't need or want to get laid. It takes a certain mindset to make that the sole focus of your life, and it reflects poorly on your character if you feel that an orgasm should be the highest priority. At least when it comes to new relationships.

That is the PUA method. The Mystery Method. The Game. NLP. Dating coaches. What have you. Their ultimate message is:

"Don't be yourself! It doesn't work!" .. And I can't bring myself to accepting that. Because I am a pretty awesome guy, who deserves someone just as sensitive and loving as I can be.

I'm not just looking to get my dick wet. There's more to life than fucking girls.

And that I believe, truly separates the men from the boys. If you have to live your life each day, manipulating your girlfriend or wife into thinking you're this complete alpha-male macho guy when you really are not; it's going to bite you in the ass later on. I guarantee it.

But in the meantime, you can continue to enjoy thinking that you're the ladies man and that any girl is putty in your hands. The only differences between you and I, is that I don't aspire towards being anything other than who I really am. I understand we both have similar interests, but very different philosophies on achieving what we both want out of life.

And really, happiness is all that we seek. I however, won't sell my soul to gain anything by manipulating others. You would -- and already have. I am not judging you negatively on this, but I feel compelled to point out the immaturity that your post exhibited when I asked you to "teach me" the ways of being successful in a relationship.

Will those methods work? Sure. But faking confidence is not the same thing as BEING confident. Faking honour is not the same as actually having it. Faking sincerity.. well, now that's just lying. Both to yourself and the girl involved. If you feel comfortable saying things you think she wants to hear, by all means, continue along with it. But if you are like me, and wish not to be anything but the best YOU can be without having to put up a front; then you will not feel at all happy about having to pretend to be something you are not.

I think the whole PUA community and relationship gurus miss the real point of what they are doing. It's not about getting laid. Or picking up 10s. Or negging your way into some girl's pants. It's about facilitating a connection between yourself and someone you are interested in getting to know. But it's layered with deceit. Some of it is practical, as in how to have a conversation. Other things like negging; are outright manipulative.

So.. The real question is, get laid? Or get with a real woman who loves you for who you are.

I'm opting for the latter.

Appreciate the advice. I'll look into that Pandora's Box you mentioned. But Dr. Love annoys the hell out of me with his "as my cousin in .. my brother in... would say" bits of faked anecdotal advice. I bet you all that guy cares about is making money. It wouldn't surprise me to know that he's probably in a failed or failing relationship himself.

Those that can't do, teach.

Thanks anyways. Take care.

I think I said the right things to him. No. I DID say the right things. That is how I feel about relationships and I don't want to pretend otherwise.

I am sick of pretending. I am tired of being disappointed. I am weary of trying.

So, maybe I should just be.

And let the right girl find me.

I still think of Lauren.. Tina.. the two girls I've earnestly said "I love you" to. And it's sad. It's not healthy revisiting the past. I've learned from my mistakes already, and there's no need to impose upon myself any more heartache than I have already experienced.

I am going to let it be.

I am going to be me.

revelations 10:03:2011

With the emotional clusterfuck I've been going through these past few days, I resigned myself to thinking that Amy and I were done. I couldn't handle it anymore. I couldn't understand why she acted the way she did.

Until today.

I caved in. I admit it. I responded to the two text messages she had sent me last night that I didn't receive.

And then a full blown conversation resulted. I should paste up the messages just to show how epic it had ended up being.

I called her out on her bullshit and she called me out on mine.

The toughest thing that I've never wanted to admit to myself, after all these years, not one mention of it has appeared on my blog. The one fact that I was too ashamed to face, was brought into the open.

I am hard of hearing.

I've been this way since birth. Nobody seems to know what caused it, but the possibility of a fever I had as a child (so it wouldn't have been from birth, apparently) is what the general consensus is for this condition.

Initially, in grade school, I had to wear hearing aids. Not just hearing aids, but my parents made our first grade teacher have to wear a doohickey around her neck that would better amplify what she was saying to me, directly.

Let me tell you this, first off. My hearing was not THAT bad. It really wasn't. I found out later in the years once I decided to stop wearing them, that I had a very comfortable range of sound in my ears. A test was presented to me once by a doubting teacher who demanded that I wear these things. She and I were in her office, and she deliberately turned her back as if she was writing on a chalkboard.

She then asked me what my name was, my address, and certain other questions. Trying to goad me into slipping up and validating her demand that I wear these bloody things.

I got every question right. I did not need fucking hearing aids. And this cultivated resentment. It bred arrogance. Distrust towards figures of authority telling me what I should be doing.

And not only that, but I was suffering under the shame of my peers. Who at that early age, would point to my ears and say, "what are those earrings you're wearing?" and I felt so fucking ashamed and humiliated that I took them right off once I started grade four.

And surprisingly, I didn't do too bad in school because of it.

My father championed my cause, believing in me while my mother and teachers did not. I heard well enough to get by, even though high pitches still eluded me.

I don't know if I can remember ever hearing a bird sing. Though, I've read of it.

And that is probably what made me become such a voracious reader. It is why I was at the local library every Sunday with my father, checking out armfuls of books.

It was just so appealing to read, and know that I am not missing a single word.

Because of that, my reading and writing shot up way past my peers. I had been reading "normal" books by the time I was in grade six. I still remember silently smiling to myself in grade four when a classmate attempted to read out loud from a book and had to trace his finger along and stutter his way through.

That's when I started feeling special. Superior to everyone else. And slowly developed my arrogance.

When I think about those early years, it felt like I had every justification for behaving the way I did. I do not regret my actions. I did not appreciate being thought of as different than anyone else. I laughed out loud at a teacher who tried to compare hearing aids to glasses when he said, "look, I wish I didn't have to wear glasses, but I do!"

Glasses are not like fucking hearing aids. Everyone wears glasses. Who's going to think any less of you for it?

But when you're dangling upside down from a rope in the gym and your hearing aids are dangling down along with you; then you start to appreciate the differences. You start to become "someone else" and not "one of them".

I hated feeling that way.

So I stopped wearing them.

It took many years before I began to start having difficulty really hearing everything as well as I should be. I would put the years at around.. 2002, when my girlfriend Elizabeth at the time tearfully exclaimed to me, "you can't hear..."

I got upset, and told her I could hear fine. But because I had revealed this earlier to her, the conversation she was giving me (about being more of a boyfriend to her), was being ignored. I just didn't want or had nothing to say to that.

And it only made me feel like I really needed to keep this disability hidden away, because of moments like that.

Then, the depression sunk in. I'm not sure if it was because of my hearing problems, or because I had not found a good enough girl to be with; I just became sad. Withdrawn.

Eventually, I snapped out of it and spiralled down again, up again and down, levelled off and here I am.

And I've lost two women in my life, which my lack of hearing can be blamed for. Both directly and indirectly.

Let's talk about Lauren, first.

It took a month before she decided to break up with me out of the blue. The reasoning was because I didn't pass her friends test, which I wrote about in detail earlier in the blog. Part of the reason I could not get along with her egotistical friends, was that they were all talking so rapidly, in such a flurry -- that I could not comprehend the half of it.

I'm not rewriting history or anything, but my deafness was a contributing factor to our first attempted breakup. When she complained that I didn't connect with her friends, that was true. But despite my feeling that they were a couple of stuck up egomaniacs, had I been able to follow perfectly what everyone was saying -- then I could have at least faked being polite.

There was a moment in the car while we were all driving together, when I was asked a question. It just came out of nowhere, from this hailstorm of words preceding it and I was like..

"uh, can you repeat that?"

It's a subtle thing, but it was demonstrative of how little attention I was paying. From which could be inferred that I am being intentionally distant from which could be drawn.. that I didn't like these people. Or that I'm anti-social.

It's funny how non-verbal cues and peripheral observations can lead to such conclusions.

And then Amy came along. I hid my disability and my sense of denial was so strong about it, that I didn't think to explain to her that I couldn't hear some of the things she would tell me about. I didn't want her to repeat herself and make me feel incompetent. Broken. Damaged.

Our first three dates went so well, and she wanted to take things slow -- that I thought I had nothing to worry about. That all things will be revealed in time.

But time ran out.

Two days, it seems, after our passionate night at Shoguns; she suddenly became withdrawn. Texts were short, she appeared distant and uninterested and it was driving me mad.

The day after Shoguns, things were fine. I even got a "I'm getting quite attached to you" message, but the next day? That was when she met the other guy and decided to completely ditch things with us.

And not tell me of any of it.

For a gruelling nine days, I had to endure it. I had to struggle to try and understand what was going on. It didn't make sense for her to suddenly start acting like this. Not after what we had.

So, when we met up for breakfast after nine days apart; she revealed the truth to me. Almost with hesitation, as I walked her to her car.

She told me she met somebody else. And that she didn't want to date me anymore.

I was floored. I didn't know how to react. But at the same time, I was relieved to finally know what was responsible for her behaviour.

So, she lied to me. It figures. How can I ever trust a woman again? No matter how well I can connect with somebody, it won't guarantee that we'd be together for a long time. That she would be cordial enough to give me a fair chance. To take things further along. To let us reveal ourselves slowly. To really know one another.

I couldn't think of much else to do or say because she had to leave for work in a few minutes. What a terrible way to drop this on me. "We're broken up. Goodbye! Gotta go!"

I.. think most guys would've gotten really upset here. They would've begged. Pleaded. Called her a bitch. Maybe even hit her.

I did the exact opposite. I leaned in, and reminded her that what we had shared at Shoguns, was still there.

I didn't feel angry about any of this. I felt partly to blame.

She told me she wasn't expecting me to do what I did.

I kissed her hand and walked away. Not turning back.

That was the last I would see her until Sunday evening. But it took Sunday evening and then our texts on Monday for me to realize how I helped end things.

I couldn't connect with her well enough for her to be smitten by me.

Had I been able to flow along with her conversations, things might have been different. I would've smiled more. I would've joked around more. I would've contributed more interesting and insightful things.

She would have forged a stronger connection with me.

And who knows, maybe that wouldn't have been enough anyways.

But.. On Monday, I told her my dark secret. That I was hard of hearing. This was after she had told me she was raped by an ex in the past, and that something happened with a group of guys while she was in college. I felt sick to my stomach knowing that it made sense why she wanted to take things slow with us..

But still.. she rushed into something else, with another guy. That's.. unforgivable in my eyes.

As we exchanged texts, she asked if we could be friends. I don't know why I said what I did but I think it was because I felt so sorry for her. That she experienced some terrible moments in her life. And that I would be willing to put aside my intentions of having a romantic relationship with her, for the sake of keeping her company.

I.. okay, this blog post has been ongoing for two days now. It may sound disjointed, but it's now Tuesday evening. I tried to be a "friend" to Amy today. Texting her superficial messages. And I realized later that night, that I hated it.

I hated it so much. That this is what being "friends" is going to be like.

Pretending like I didn't have feelings for her.

I just texted her minutes ago, saying that I can't see this ending well. The facts were, that she dumped me for some other guy with no consideration for my feelings. Only hers. She disrespected my feelings and purposely discarded them without any thought about how I would feel about it.

Well.. That would make her a bitch now, wouldn't it? Why should I delude myself otherwise?

I had told her that I love her, but I didn't love who she is now. I loved the girl that I kissed at Shoguns. I loved the girl that sat on my couch and helped me find the "button". I loved the girl that I held hands with at the farmer's market, who stroked my back while we looked at birdhouses.

That's the Amy I love. That's the Amy I want to be with.

Not this.

I feel physically sick right now. I know I have to go live my life. I can't spend my days wondering and wanting and wishing. I have to move on. To forget about it.

If Amy loved me, none of this would be happening right now.

So, she clearly doesn't.

And that means I shouldn't bother being friends.

Not with someone who would treat me this way.

And I should not try and think that things will change between us down the road.

But.. God.. I just want to be with her. To touch her. To talk to her. To smell her. To hold her hand and kiss and hug and laugh and smile...

But she could not open up her feelings to me. I don't think she ever really did. I can't remember the last time she asked me a question about myself. Like a real, "I'd like to know more about you" type of question. I can't remember if she ever poured her guts out to me. She certainly hasn't approached anything at the level that I have been giving her.

So, I think I'm done. I can't suffer this heartache any longer. It's not what I deserve. I've gone through worse before with Lauren, but this is just going to send me over the edge again.

I won't do it.

Fuck that.

And fuck her for wanting me to be her lapdog.

I love her .. she doesn't love me.

It's not worth it. Unless there was a reason for me to hope otherwise.

And there isn't.

We're done.

I need hearing aids.

letting love dissolve

yesterday was one of the hardest moments of my life to go through. I had to look Amy in the eye and accept that it was over.

waking up that morning, I felt almost sick to my stomach. I couldn't eat breakfast, I couldn't stop thinking about how I should act and what I want to say later that evening. I looked over the letter I wrote for her and felt doubt welling up. I wasn't sure if giving her this would be the right thing to do.

so, I posted on Reddit for the first time. Hoping that maybe I will get some advice on how I should be feeling and what I should do about Amy and I. It took a few hours before enough replies came in, but it was worth the wait.

people called it like it is. They didn't see anything more beyond a guy who's head over heels with a woman he hardly knows. They didn't see what Amy and I had, whenever we kissed, held hands, or hugged one another.

Reddit looked at my situation in the way any outsider would. With calm detachment and little consideration for the emotions involved.

The most jarring comment I received, was the one that said my letter was nuts. And that I shouldn't be sending it.

It shook me to my core when I read that. I don't like to think having such strong feelings about someone is "nuts", but maybe it was. Maybe it is something abnormal.

But it is not something that I should be apologizing for. Because what I wrote in that letter, are my feelings expressed crystal clear. I could not have articulated them any better than I did.

And I was reminded, that I am one of a kind it seems. I don't know of many -- if any, people who are as sensitive as I can be. Who can be as resilient as I can be. Who has gone through as much heartbreak as I have in my life.

Or anyone who seems to be as spiritual as I am.

But I had to agree with that poster, the letter was nuts. I should not be feeling that way about someone, yet I was.

It was a unique situation in my life. I've dated enough people to know when something incredible happens with one of them.

I needed to distract myself. I ended up putting in the 40-year old virgin and getting some much needed laughs. Just to lighten up the terrible amount of pain I was putting myself through. And for the most part, it helped.

My mother ends up calling me to ask how I was doing, and I had to switch over to my happy voice. She asked what my plans were for tonight and I said I was going to be watching movies with Amy. She then suggested I buy her flowers.

I felt a little choked at that. Not having the relationship with my mother enough that I could tell her exactly what was going on. That Amy already was involved with another guy and this likely would be the last time I would see her.

But flowers? Sure.. Amy would like that. She'd like sushi as well. I bought both.

I stopped to pick up a dozen roses in a vase that looked absolutely spectacular and overdone. Driving home with those on the seat made me feel like a complete idiot, wondering what kind of message I am sending Amy with these.

"you've hurt me so bad, that I'm giving you these expensive flowers."

Maybe a part of me still thought I had a chance.

So, as the hour approaches for me to leave I get upstairs to start shaving and I just fucking crumble. My hands start shaking, I can barely get the job done and I'm putting down the razor listening to this voice inside of me.

"You are worthwhile."

"The right girl will find you."

"You are not alone."

"You are loved."

And.. I was such a fucking mess after that, with minutes to go before I had to leave.

I ended up laying face down in bed, just heaving these dry sobs. Not knowing what the hell I should be doing. Feeling like I can't go along with this.

It's then about 7:07pm and I was supposed to go to Amy's place at 7:30. It's an almost hour drive away. I was fucking starving and I forced myself to grab a candy bar on the way out. I had almost no appetite that day.

Driving, without the radio or a cd on, I suffered my thoughts for most of the way there until I was almost at my destination. Then something compelled me to turn up the radio and California Girls by David Lee Roth came up.

I smiled. I loved this song when I was growing up and I still remember the music video for it as a child.

I felt better. I felt ready.

I parked at her place and after fumbling around trying to figure out which house she was in, I stepped up and rang her doorbell.

Her dog Wiggy could be seen through the door barking. I smiled. I loved her dog, cute little bugger he was. And her cat, who perched up near the door as I came in.

Amy was.. non-chalant about my arrival. She took my sushi (the flowers were still in the car) and invited me inside.

The first thing that struck me, was really the non-chalance. She was completely oblivious to how I must have been feeling and I felt torn up seeing her this way, standing and watching her send a text message to somebody while I stood there awkwardly, wondering what to do next.

We sat on her couch and talked about her day. The guy that she almost fired. I shared a story of my teasing a co-worker. She shared one about a dying cat. I told her about mine, and how I cried for 15 minutes as he had to be put down.

Once all this was out of the way, I began speaking my truth.

"Amy, I can't possibly sit here for two hours with you, watching a movie and pretending like I don't want to hold your hand, to put my arm around you and to kiss you. So, I am just going to leave."

I wasn't going to leave just yet, but I set the stage for what followed next.

"Now, before I leave, I want to know what your reasons were. You said things happen for a reason, I'd like to know why you did what you did."

She fumbled around for a bit, trying to explain how she really couldn't explain anything. How when she saw this guy show up at her store, she couldn't keep from smiling. That she almost felt like vomiting because the feeling was so intense between them."

I had to ask her when this happened. It turned out, it was just a few days after our amazing night at Shoguns. Where we made out for over an hour.

I couldn't believe that she disregarded all that. That some guy would've just came in and said, "hey, want to go out?" and she accepted.

I couldn't believe how meaningless that moment we shared ended up being. I told her that, and she shook her head with confusion.

"It.. was meaningful to me. It was special."

I told her how I had never experienced anything like that with another human being. How it was the most intimate thing I had ever done, and it wasn't even sex! I told her how I sure I was that had she been with me a little while longer, she would not have made the decision she did.

Amy couldn't respond to any of this. I could start feeling shame radiate from her.

My voice wavered, trembled, cracked and then rose, swelled, born of newly found conviction as I told her that after the night we shared, I was ready to give her my everything. That I loved her. That I respected her saying she didn't want to rush into things and get to know me.

And the biggest thing I said here was,

"If you did not want to rush into things with me, then why have you done it with this other person? How are you not a hypocrite? How are you not a liar?"

She said she could see why I would think that.

I made up to leave. I've had enough. Amy proved to me what she really is. And as I reached for the jacket on my lap, she pushed her dog away and moved closer to me.

I can't remember what she said exactly, but I knew none of it made sense. And I told her that.

It just doesn't make any sense.

At some point, I had enough of sitting there. I told her that if I sat on her couch for any longer, I would start to feel like a loser. I got up to leave and went to put my shoes on.

Amy called from behind me, "David.. I'm sorry.."

I told her it's okay. And then, she reached up to hug me.

We stood there for five minutes. Her hands encircled my torso and mine ran down the small of her back. I could feel my body shake and convulse with unsteady breath and then I could feel the tears stream down my face.

I tried my best to restrain them, but I couldn't.

We stood there, without a word spoken or a sound made and I ran my fingers through her hair -- knowing it would be the last time I could do so.

Once I managed to compose myself, I pulled away gently and kissed her on her forehead. I unlocked the front door and I walked to my car.

Not looking back. Not saying goodbye.

Once I was in, I circled the block to a private area and I sat with my thoughts for a bit. Smoking my cigarette and wondering what to do about the flowers. Or the letter that I had with me. The short stories that I included thinking that maybe she would realize that I am more than what she might think I am. That I am an intelligent, sensitive, compassionate human being.

But, I then realized that it's not worth it. I had also told her that I could see her as the type that would cheat on me at some point. That no matter how good our kisses or how good the sex is, all it would take is some guy to come along and ask her out.

Some guy that she feels like throwing up in front of.

I was resigned to my fate. I was not going to win her back. I did not want her back. This was over. Done. And I had just one thing left to do.

I threw the letters into the backseat and I unwrapped the flowers. Took them out of their box, stripped the plastic sheeting off and I placed it on her doorstep. Then I drove away.

Ten minutes later, I texted her saying, "Door."

She wrote back with, "?"

"Check your doorstep"

"I don't know what to say, they're beautiful." next message: "Why?"

"Because I love you." I responded. "And I wish you could have said the same."

And that was the last I texted her. I turned my phone off and drove the rest of the way home. I stopped for coffee and listened to a cd in my car. Smoking. Thinking. Feeling. Wondering.

Then I got home. Too weary to check Reddit. Too afraid to look at my phone. I smoked some more and listened to another cd I had made. Laying on the couch, using my laptop instead of my iPhone. Headphones on and feeling the pain melt away.

Once my mix was approaching the end, I went upstairs and got ready for bed. I changed into my pajamas, brushed my teeth and laid in darkness with the last four songs playing.

Hold Me Now by Sara Lov

Lights of an Endangered Species by Matthew Good

Insurgentes by Steven Wilson

and Moving On by Michael Giacchino from the Lost soundtrack

It was during the last song that I started to question if God really exists.

For most of my life I have been searching for the right person to be with.

I have tried so hard. I have dated so many. There are so few that I would really want to see myself being with.

And to have this happen to me. To find someone this special. To form such a deep connection with, only to have it violently taken away from me...

Well.. It made me curse God.

I called him an asshole.

What has he ever done for me? In all those lonely nights of praying and hoping and dreaming and wishing.

What am I left with?

This pain. This hurt.

I mumbled an evening prayer out of habit, just the same. Despite my thinking that I would never be praying again.

Then I couldn't sleep. I got up, went to my laptop and fixed my OkCupid profile up. I stripped it free of the stuff that made me look like I was someone else. Or that I was trying too hard to be funny or different.

I just fixed it up to make it more real.

And then I went downstairs for another cigarette and back upstairs again. Back into bed, I read the first five or six pages of Gargoyle, flinching at the opening line of:

"Accidents ambush the unsuspecting, often violently, like love."

And I closed my eyes to dream.

Tomorrow is going to be a new day.

And my flowers will be on Amy's table, reminding her of what she's thrown away.

I can live with that.

and it goes on and on

(sighs) .. What a joke. I almost don't even have in in me to think of how to write this post, but I really think I should. Just for posterity. Something to look at down the road.

Amy again. Yep. It has been a few days since we last met for breakfast on Whyte ave. At a nice little restaurant that housed a waiter who was making googly eyes at mah gurl which I didn't appreciate much.

I should correct myself before making the wrong impression.

Amy is not mah gurl. I knew something was up with how distant she appeared to be, but I didn't know what it was. Weeks earlier, I had asked her to reassure me that she was not interested in dating other people. To her credit, she said she wasn't, and closed down her OkCupid account, a gesture that I really appreciated her making at the time. Because I no longer had to feel insecure about us and that I knew she really liked me and wanted to take things seriously.

Boy, how wrong I was.

Looking back at my previous Amy posts, the one passage that haunts my mind is the one where I described that something terrible might happen, and I won't know it until it's too late.

Well, it happened.

Turned out, some guy that she hardly knows from a month and a half ago -- showed up at her store wanting to buy furniture.

This guy asked her out, it seems. And she accepted.

Not only that. But last night, she texted me saying they already had the "exclusive" talk -- adding a smiley face for emphasis, like I would be happy to read this.

It's.. Wow.. I don't know what to say. I quit smoking Wednesday night on the faint hopes that this would be my show of solidarity. My demonstration of commitment to her. Just because she agreed to meet (one last time, I requested) on Sunday night. She also expressed doubt about whether or not she made the right decision to go with this other guy.

A flurry of texts were exchanged Wednesday night. I was stupefied. I couldn't believe this was happening. That her "I'm not ready for a relationship" "I don't have plans to date anyone" "I really like you" "I'm growing quite attached to you" and inviting me out for Foo Fighters meant that she was interested in taking things slow with us, to which I was happy to oblige.

But.. Oh, geez. This happens. Out of the blue. The amazing connection that she still acknowledges we have (and which could have turned to "love" she admitted), was thrown out the window with nary a second thought.

I told my cousin the details of this, and he was shocked that I wasn't mad. That I was willing to stick it out and not feel insulted by any of this.

I don't know what is going on with me and Amy. I feel embarrassed for typing out that I love her, but I do.

I really do.

And.. I don't understand this. I've done my best. I kept myself from jumping into this relationship with desperate urgency, like a rabid dog shaking his head with a new toy in his mouth. I wanted to try my best. I did try my best.

I am still doing my best.

And it's not good enough.

When some stranger can come out of the blue to buy some furniture, say a few things and nullify everything that Amy and I have had up to this point; then why am I even bothering? Why should I still care about her? What does this say about Amy as a person?

Is she loyal? Is she kind? Is she the one that fits me best?

Those are questions that are up in the air at the moment. Because, how can anyone do something like this to someone they know they have a deep connection with that the other person is excited about exploring?

Why lie by omission?

Why not see how WE do first, and THEN see what the other person is like? Because, it's like building a house and abandoning it once the foundation is poured. It's irresponsible. Selfish. Immature. Inconsiderate.

Unforgivable? Perhaps. Although I don't feel vindictive or angry. Frustrated, yes. Disappointed, very. But do I hate her for doing this?

No. I don't.

We're supposed to be friends right now. We're set to go to the Foo Fighters show together and Matthew Good. So long-term plans are in place. She's not going away anytime soon.

And all this might mean, is that I'll always be the guy that poured his guts out to her and I'm just not good enough for her.

I don't understand some of her messages. So many mixed signals. With saying something like "I might be making the wrong decision" as being an example of one.

We never know if we've made the right decision until enough time has passed. If we ever. Amy would have to give each of us a chance to know what is the most likeliest scenario that will transpire between the two of us. Are we fated for something more? Or is this just not meant to be?

I don't like thinking of the idea of fate. Or pre-destination. That our lives are planned in advance by forces beyond our understanding. But I do accept that things happen for a reason. However strange it may be.

But I thought I've spent enough of my life already learning and preparing for something like this. I don't need another heartbreak. I am READY. More now than I ever have been.

Amy tried to describe what she was feeling to me. Saying that is was like something from the movie, Meet Joe Black where Anthony Hopkins suggests that love is like being hit by lightning.

I was kind of insulted to hear her say that, to be honest.

Infatuation is like being hit by lightning.

Lust, is like being hit by lightning.

A kick in the gonads is like being hit by lightning.

What's the point of telling me that? That irrationality wins out over sensibility? Logic? Undeniable chemistry?

I understand the importance of feelings and staying true to what you believe in, but this doesn't sound right to me.

Something doesn't make sense.

My first instinct is to consider why she wasn't interested in pursuing anything more with us. I felt a one-of-a-kind connection with this woman, and I'm sure she felt something extraordinary too.

No, she DID feel something amazing. She admitted to that.

But why won't she venture out to see what it is before going someplace else with someone else?

Unless maybe it wasn't much of a connection. That hour spent kissing each other in the parking lot of Shoguns meant nothing. That holding her hands and feeling sparks fly, meant nothing. That everything she told me about how much she loved our connection, meant nothing.

I really really don't understand how it came to be this way.

All I can do is laugh. I'm too proud to cry. I'm too much a character in a cosmic joke that I feel is being perpetuated upon me.

Someone up there is laughing their asses off at my expense. I am sure of it. And when I find this person, I will give them a kick in their intangible energy nutsack. Or whatever corporal entities have as their weakpoints.

I don't know if I should be dwelling this much about it. Thinking that this is the "one" and that she is slipping through my fingers with each passing minute that I do nothing.

So, last night laying in bed. I couldn't sleep. So many thoughts kept me awake. Haunting me. Begging me to consider each and every one before I closed my eyes and forget about them in the morning.

I decided to get up and entertain those notions.

The first thing I thought -- or rather felt -- like doing, was to head over to my laptop and to look at this blog.

Reading the first few posts about Amy, I shook my head and realized that her now "boyfriend" is gone for five weeks.

And that she was still coming over Sunday evening to watch movies with me.

So, I had a window of opportunity. A last chance. A final stand. How was I going to be doing this?

Buying her flowers was the first thing that came to mind, but I snorted at the idea because.. c'mon. This isn't going to change anything. If anything, it will only make me out to be more of a pathetic doormat than I've already presented myself to be.

So, what should I do about this? How do I make my last case for a relationship with Amy before things get too serious with the other guy?

I decided, she needed to get to know me.

Really know me. And while I was hoping sex would be the way to peek into my soul and understand that my love for her was sincere; that option is no longer available to me.

So, the next best thing, was to show her my thoughts.

My writings. My blog posts. My stories.

And hope that it will be enough for her to understand exactly who I am, and that I am sincere about my feelings for her.

At the expense of my dignity.

It will be like showing up nude at a public speech. Everything will be on display to be scrutinized and judged by others.

And I realized, that this is all I've got left to offer her. I can't possibly think of words that will make her reassess the viability of us two as a couple.

I would have to let her into my mind, and allow my heart and soul to be glimpsed.

Last night, I spent almost eight hours scouring and printing material that I have written over the year. It was frightening and exhilarating at the same time for me to realize just how much I have actually written during this time. I ended up printing 20 individual pieces of writing, that seem to total over a hundred pages.

I've never done anything like this before. Even when Lauren told me that I wasn't smart or ambitious enough for her; I did not go to such elaborate lengths to try and persuade her to see otherwise. At the time, I knew that it should not be my ambition or "brains" that dictated the potential of a relationship.

It should be my capacity to love. It should be my feelings for the other person. My dedication. My commitment. The joy that I would be willing to give.

Not my writing.

This is why I think I must do this. Amy had never once asked me to see any of what I've written, which is quite surprising considering that every girl I've dated who I mentioned writing to; has asked to see what I'm capable of.

But not Amy. Not because I don't think she cares, but because I think she doesn't have any idea that I'm a bit more serious about it than she might be supposing.

A lot of people out there say they fancy themselves a writer. Or a painter. Or a musician. And they're pretty half-assed about those passions of theirs. It's easy to understand why Amy would have written my scribblings off as another "half-assed" kind of hobby that I don't really have my heart in.

The hundred plus pages that I plan on giving her Sunday night, will prove otherwise.

I don't expect to change her mind with any of it. I am still going to be looking for people to date. But I at least will feel good about knowing that I've poured almost everything I have into another human being and that I can walk away knowing it wasn't enough. Rather than wondering what I could have done. I'd have already done.

Before it's too late.

What kind of scares me while writing this, is wondering about the alternate possibility. What IF she does change her mind? Dumps the guy, gives me her fullest attention and desire for a relationship? What then? Can I possibly live up to the promises that I am implying? Can I measure up to her standards and expectations? Will she measure up to mine?

It's scary to think about how uncertain the future really is. I do not want her to dump the guy, be with me and then things go sour down the road. I know I will be blamed for it and that is not what I want to have happen.

I don't want to stand in the way of true love.

I'm just not convinced that this guy she met, is .. well.. the one for her. I'm not. I don't know what he looks like, how much money he has, or what their connection is like -- and I don't care. I don't want to know.

But he must really be something if I'm getting the shaft like this. I just hate to think of Amy getting her heart broken by this dude. Or sleeping with him on the 2nd date.

I.. feel.. I don't know. I don't feel like I own her. Or that she owes me something. Wait, that might not be true. I do feel that she owes me something.

She owes me a fair chance.

That is what Sunday night will end up being as we watch the movie and I hand this package to her as she walks out the door.

That will be my last chance at anything. If we can't have sex, then this is the next best thing.

I hope it all works out. Not because I've been starved for a partner like Amy, but because I like to think that my journey needs to come to an end.

I'm tired of dating. I'm tired of drama. I'm just.. tired.

I want to love and be loved.

And have sex.

And spend my life with someone worthwhile.

Again.. walking forward with my head held high and speaking the truth of my heart, is all I can do.

I just want to live my life with someone worthy by my side.

I'm so tired.

Ágætis byrjun: Review

Ágætis byrjun, from Iceland's Sigor Ros, is one of those albums I've been meaning to pick up for some time, but haven't gotten around to it. Until a whimsical purchase on iTunes last week made it possible.

Sigor Ros's music feels like hearing a great big giant yawn without a care in the world. You are at once humbled and soon revered when confronted with the majestic splendour of music so inhumanly beautiful that your heart melts with each croon of Jon Por Birgisson's haunting voice.

The above description applies itself well to the second track of the album, "Svefn-G-Englar", a song that appears to roll itself lazily along across grassy lands like an aural blob gobbling up everything in it's path. It's a ten minute exercise in repetition, but how sweet it is.

Granted, the lyrics do not make any sense to a non-native speaker of Icelandic, but intonation proves itself well placed among the swirl of such explorative and emotional music. If there was anything that could transcend the language barrier and draw out certain feelings from the listener, Sigor Ros has planted it's feet firmly in a niche of it's own.

Staraflur is a track that most everyone with a passing interest in music has certainly come across at one time or another, it is an evocative, mesmerizing tinkle of swelling orchestral accompaniments. Sounding much like a suicide love letter to the world and all the beauty it contains.

Flugufrelsarinn, really, who can be expected to be able to pronounce any of these titles properly? Is the third track, in which Birgisson's tries for something more nihilistic, laying down cryptic vocals that speak of heartbreak so deep and profound that I felt it chronicled a broken man rising from the ashes to transcend a terrible pain. A quick look at the lyrics revealed something quite disturbing that I was not previously made aware of. It turns out that every song Sigor Ros has composed, uses a made-up language.

I am not kidding. It is known as "Vonlenska" which is Icelandic for "Hopelandic", the English translation of the same word. The intention for singing unintelligibly appears to come from the desire of the band to divorce words from meaning, and rather put the focus squarely on intonation and feel. However critics may regard employing such a device, such lyrics do lend themselves well to interpretation and can mean different things to different ears.

The album moves ahead from here on out, exploring various moods of the generally downtrodden variety. Utilizing a diversity of instruments including sax, cello, bowed guitars and generous helpings of reverb. Sneaking itself behind the guise of jazz, space-pop, drone, prog-rock and shoe-gaze; It is an enchanting experience more so than one would expect. Despite my favourites consisting of just three songs (Svefn-G-Englar, Staralfur and Olsen Olsen) the rest of the cd makes for a fantastic backdrop to a night spent laying in your backyard, looking up at the stars and wondering if they are looking back at you.

It's impossible not to love music like this.

4.5 out of 5