You’d like it here.
Maybe that’s why it feels like you’re missing from every meal, every seat I’ve taken at a bistro with the sun on my face, every corner I’ve rounded with a new experience just beyond.
Wish you were here.
I’ve been spending too much time around friends and fallen heroes, staying up too late, running away from my thoughts, punishing my body, killing myself one day at a time. The exhaustion is numbing — exactly what I need — but I know I can’t keep this up forever. I used to lose a day here and there, think it’s Wednesday on a Thursday. Now I lose entire weeks. I’ve decided that it’s all okay as long as shit gets done.
Maybe that’s why I’ve been feeling trapped. I’m too busy to see past things as they are right now, a victim of my own self-distraction, so it feels like I’ll be here forever, stuck in this endless loop of healing and heartbreak.
I’m still trying to find that delicate balance between accepting myself (which risks complacency) and striving to improve (and the constant dissatisfaction). At the very least, I’ve come to the realization that there’s a difference between the things that happen to us and the way we react or deal with them, and since you have no say in the former, all you can do is improve the latter.
Sometimes you have to die a little inside to figure that out.
Been living on too much sin and not enough sleep, though mostly it’s in the form of calories and sugar. Thank god I have an Asian metabolism.
Things are happening so quickly around me. Chris is getting serious with his girl. Pat and Jen had their first baby, a boy named Kyden. ____’s getting married in April. (What? Yeah. What? Yeah.) Funny how I’m starting to feel like the one who’s all settled.
It makes me fantastically proud to say that I’ll be assuming best-man responsibilities, though I still asked ____ who he was going appoint cause I never feel like I can take anything in our friendship for granted. His anger at my having asked was probably the warmest gesture I’ve had in a while. That means with the bachelor party, the wedding, and another wedding I’ve to film, I’ll be driving to Toronto three times between now and spring.
I’ve already lost ____ to an extent, as he’s only had about two months to plan his wedding, and he’s been busy with such. But even though our phone calls were my main form of contact with the outside world, I haven’t noticed their absence, or as much as I thought I would at least. I think I’m getting used to being so out-of-touch with people. There’s so much fulfillment one can find in a book or a movie or an instrument, let alone the vastness of the internet.
One of my ventures was making a trial World of Warcraft account1, just so I could try being social at a distance, but I still couldn’t bother interacting with other people. And since the whole point of paying a monthly fee for an MMORPG is to have that kind of interaction, I stopped when I maxed out at level 202 on the third day. Good thing too, because it was the only thing I did for those three days.
I used to feel so guilty about being alone, thinking I should be taking advantage of some opportunity to be social. Then I realized that if I ever got too uncomfortable and lonely, I’d get up and do something about it. I’m too happy and too comfortable here right now. I think that’s why I can’t tell if this is where I’m going, or where I already am.
He who is not satisfied with himself will grow; he who is not sure of his own correctness will learn many things.
—Chinese proverb
As much as I think I’ve become settled in my character and my mindset, I still surprise myself with how much these continue to change.
Me and my Plushstache (handmade with love by Shannon Gerard).
I used to think I’d finally be happy if I was a certain person — some idealized version of myself who was indestructible, infallible, and flawless — but I recently realized that I shouldn’t see this as the goal. Instead, I should be happy with the fact that I’m not there yet, because change means evolution and growth.
It would be folly to believe that an arrival is also an end. One should continue to struggle, and to doubt, and to hurt, and to be a work in progress.
I turn 30 in a month, and I still don’t know who I am.
(Just like old times, eh?)
Tyler licks his lips until they’re gleaming wet. He takes Jack’s hands and KISSES the back of it.
I figured it out.
I had too much want.
The saliva shines in the shape of the kiss. Tyler pours a bit of the flaked lye onto Jack’s hand.
I started out selflessly — doing without expecting, giving not to receive, working not for reward1 — because all I wanted was to live in the moment, to experience as much as I could while it lasted. Eventually, that turned into a desire, a belief that I couldn’t live without what (or whom) I wanted.
One could call it love.
The old me would have blamed myself for falling into that trap, but I’ve since recognized that I’m human. That I’m prone to falling, especially when I’m so amorously intoxicated.
Jack’s whole body JERKS. Tyler holds tight to Jack’s hand and arm. Tears well in Jack’s eyes; his face tightens.
Now that I’m able to stand back and recognize my longing, and I can also see how much that longing that was starting to tear me down.
It’s like in Fight Club, when Tyler Durden is about to pour lye on Jack’s hand. Jack already knows he’s going to die; it’s an undeniable reality we all come to realize as we grow out of childhood, yet are rarely forced to deal with (or even embrace). For Jack, that reality doesn’t truly sink in until he’s faced with the chemical burn on his body.
Jack, snapping back, tries to jerk his hand away. Tyler keeps hold of it and their arms KNOCK UTENSILS off the table.
I was told it was over before it started, but that reality didn’t sink in until recently. It’s taken this long because I dared to dream of something greater, and a large part of me didn’t want to give up the wonderful memories. Unfortunately, those memories are mixed and inseparable from everything else that’s been holding me back. The fact that I think too much doesn’t help either.
At some point, I realized that I simply had to let go. Truly let go.
Tyler finally says to Jack:
Listen, you can run water over your hand and make it worse or, look at me, or you can use vinegar and neutralize the burn. First you have to give up, first you have to know — not fear — know — that someday you’re gonna die.
I used to think I had lost something special, but now I have no desires and nothing left to lose. It’s like I’m starting back where I was two years ago, which really wasn’t a bad place to be. The world is finally lucid and clear.
Now I know, and it feels like happiness.
Congratulations. You’re a step closer to hitting bottom.