*Lost In Transcription, Part I - Returning Home
Well, what a year this is. Not two months ago, I had come to the conclusion that I was meant for a life of solitude. I probably still am, mind you, but at least I'm finally aware that "she" really is out there. Long-time readers might roll their eyes at seeing that old use of quotations, but those in the know are aware that the previous use was simply an attempt to hurt someone else... a fool's errand from a childish state of mind.
There have been more than a handful of significant women in my life, and all have made indelible impact. Most negative, naturally, but positive as well. Mistakes were made, huge mistakes, that will undoubtedly never be made again... at least not by me. Earlier this year (last month, actually), I finally pushed through the single greatest obstacle I've ever had to push through in my entire life. No, I didn't make it to the other side unscathed... rather scarred, actually... but I am finally on the other side. And unequivocally so.
My closest friends will describe each of my relationships as unusual, and unusual is as accurate a word as there is. Then again, I'm not exactly usual fare. I've known, without doubt, the kind of woman I've wanted since high school. That may read like melodramatic nonsense, but I've known it to be true for a very long time. Anyone who's been around for the end of one my relationships probably couldn't pinpoint exactly why most of the relationships failed, save for that by the end of them, I wasn't really trying.
Indeed, even with the seven-year travesty that came to close recently, I knew within the first year that I had made a serious mistake. It was only ill-timed travel and reluctant financial interdependence that kept that soap opera on the air six-years too long. I had my sights set on a goal and a dream, and I had been willing to run over everyone and everything to get to it... even my own sanity.
Clearly, such an attitude doesn't work. People need to be accounted for, and I failed to do that. No, I'll be honest, I just didn't want to account for anyone else. And while I don't feel I have much to apologize for, I do apologize for that.
But I don't regret the lessons learned. Every mistake I've ever made brought me to the point I'm standing at now, and I must admit, I rather like the view.
Again, those who know me and know my writing the best already know what, and who, I'm heavily implying here. After all, they've all had to listen to my stories about how we first met years ago, and have all noticed a refreshed attitude and an ultimate desire sneaking its way into my writing, all the way back to "Just Scream." And as I am unabashedly blunt, I don't even care that everyone can see my cards on the table. Life's too short for things to be left unsaid.
Put simply, she was my motivation to break through that obstacle and is my motivation to get the Hell out of stagnant waters. Unfortunately, I've been around the block enough times to know that here is likely where our lives will once again diverge, and my only fear is that I'll never see her again. She's too smart and valuable to share such fear, but then, I doubt I ever crossed her mind as much as she crossed mine over the past 14 years. C'est la vie, and my karma isn't exactly deserving of something so wonderful at this moment in time.
She would say I'm being far too melodramatic, and perhaps I am, but I would warn her not to mistake me for my writing. I am subconsciously aware that she'll be breathing a sigh of relief once I ride off into the sunset again (though she's far too polite to say so), and I've been convinced for some time that a day on the beach was the end of any time together, but none of that really matters.
I got to see her again. Fuel enough for an everlasting smile.
"And the morning would be so cruel when it came,
with sunshine and warmth to blame,
for announcing the end of my sweet dream." - Greg Laswell