Living With Sand In My Shoes.

An old girlfriend was happily wed this past weekend, as I was gracefully updated from afar via social media. There were absolutely no objections on my behalf, as we became friends and gradually moved on in separate directions. However, this was something that needed to be noted in my heart because it was becoming nearly extinct. In one form or another, almost everyone I once admired and extended the notion of a future with, to this point, has found that with another. I can envision standing motionless off to the side of an airport walking escalator as, one by one, each former girlfriend passes by; wearing a veil passed down from their grandmother and ultimately whisked away at the end by someone better. I’ve wished to live forever and in return, everything I once loved has passed away. This trend is nearly at its end and regardless of any emotions that unwillingly have carried over, it’s still always a tiny dagger in my heart. I’m a rusted out nickel in a bag of shiny quarters, patiently awaiting someone that needs exact change.

I want to take this opportunity to apologize to anyone that was willing to give me the chance to share my life with theirs. I wasn’t ready and may never be. Admitting that, is downright excruciating. I write about marriage a lot because I think the notion of “till death do us part” is remarkably fascinating. It’s become a concept that I cant fathom but desperately want. Unexplainably, at the very least, I ponder this as if it were something I need solely based on the concept of “this is what you do in life” as opposed to this is what I want in life. God bless homosexuals, cross dressers, and anything else that still isn’t quite up to par in our judgmental world, because they may have chose the purest of happiness. If I can figure out how to be happy with what I have rather than want, and especially what society suggests, I may actually grasp or release the opportunity to welcome this delusional perception of marriage.

I grew to love the feeling of having someone on the ground to catch me as I lived my life alone on the fourth story. When that’s gone, I’m frantically afraid of heights. To work, run, shower, eat, relax, sleep, and know someone loved me from afar was a comfort I grew addicted to. This is all an extreme exaggerated example of what ticks within my heart, because I do enjoy company. I’m just not ready to be unselfish enough to do it on a regular basis in an unconditional, you come first demeanor. I’m so sorry. It’s beyond difficult living a life that you want but wont allow. Every morning, I’m flipping a two headed quarter and wont admit that tails just isn’t a possibility until I figure out how to be the preeminent person for someone other than myself. Abandonment has been the focal point of my life and I can’t exactly figure out where this fear formulated in my life. I covet someone being brutally honest with me. Telling me that I’m selfish, I’m an asshole, but they love me and that won’t change unless I allow it to. I can’t willingly grant myself the chance to become afraid of heights any longer. My heart can not take it.

I crave sharing my life and not feeling guilty for any choice I make within it. To not have to apologize for any decision I make that I wouldn’t allow you to make as well. I can’t argue and live with duffle bags full of mistakes that you’re willing to take out only when you deem it appropriate. Life is too god damn short for any of us to discredit anyone’s intentions with the person whom you willingly share your life with. I can’t ever promise you that I wont make any mistakes because I make them every day. What I will promise you is that my intentions are as good as gold. Unintentional mistakes are learning curves that we experience to grow as humans and exert to not have to live a life that has to be accountable for them. Life is hard enough to be comfortable in your own skin, and its extremely difficult when you feel as though it’s necessary to cover it up with makeup. Even the best relationships take work and compromise, but this is quickly becoming entangled in misconception of how we perceive our significant other to be and not who they are.

Last weekend, I complained that I had sand in my shoes. Sand from the dunes in the most beautiful place in America. Sand that was sun soaked and comforted my steps. Sand that I drove over five hours to see. As I sit at work, or lay in my bed, I could only wish to have these grains of sand back in my shoes. Without this brief annoyance, I wouldn’t be where I was. Where I desired to be. Relationships are not the sand within my shoes, they are the sands that surround me. It’s compromise without compromising who you are. Knowing that you take the bad with the good and that everything in life has displeasure within gratification. It’s a metaphor that elaborates my delusional interpretation of marriage. We can not expect our journey to be without barriers, as long as we are willing to accept their unintentional premise as to how we can live our lives without the worry of getting sand in our shoes.


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