moody blues

I really wanted to hate Hank Moody. Three episodes in to the first season of Californication I wanted to stop watching. Here's this guy who stands for everything I hate about someone- selfish, sleep-with-anyone-who-will-spread-for-him, egotistical, the whole nine. But then, I began to love him. I'll let all of the aforementioned slide because, I mean, really, the dude's just lost, I can't really blame him for the crutches he chooses to live on, I've got my own.
I don't know what it is, but I want to be his friend. I don't know if it's because he so aptly portrays the struggling writer (even though I want to hate him when he bangs out a novel in a weekend) or the undying love he has for his daughter and his baby momma and his relationship to both, I can overlook the rest on the basis of just those things. Because really, that's what we all do with many relationships in our lives, people don't meet our every expectation and I have found myself way too many times looking the other way when lied to my face and still loving friends through their indiscretions no matter how much I hate them.
It's gotten me thinking about what others may over look about me, but I pick myself apart enough. I'm aware of my flaws, I just have to stop pretending other people aren't. The difference between Hank and I is that although we're both aware of our own bullshit, he's unapologetic about it. He does what he feels, when he feels it, deals (or doesn't deal) with it later. But he wears them like a badge on his chest and his heart is rolled up in his sleeve.
So here they are, I care too much about what you think, I'm so self-absorbed that I've become a flake, I say I want to live this big, full life, but I continually find myself ignoring my phone and opting for a night on the couch with my cat, I seek approval from anyone and everyone, my expectations of you are way too high, I sometimes say I'm a writer, but I rarely write, I feel like you really want my opinion and I'll give it to you anyway, every day I wake up and say I'm going to be better and I go to bed mad at myself for lying again.
So, there you have it, call me on it. I promise I'm working on it, but, shit, old habits die hard. I just might not apologize about it anymore, right, Hank?

ghosts

I've always feared them, and, now, I find myself choosing to live with them. Daily. I allow myself to be haunted over and over again of my ancient past just to have it back momentarily. But, when the moment passes, I am left with such a raw, longing feeling. Leaving myself to deal with the gut reactions to tell the ghost what I'm feeling the next chance we run into each other in attempt to bring him back to my life. Telling myself if I'm just honest about how I feel, no doubt that would be enough to breath life back into him.
The truth is, life has gone on and almost always will and the past that I so desperately want back is the one I've just created. The beautiful, rose-colored one with all things neatly and perfectly arranged. No problems. Perfection. Instead of channeling those things into the here and now, instead of seeking real, tangible possibilities, my only desire is to revive the past and make it right.
Always, always fucking ghosts.
I fear the future now, even though, as I was told over dinner, it's happening every day. If I would just tell the present what I need to and let go of the past, I could be moving toward a rose-colored future (when I wear the right glasses). The words never come, hell they haven't even found a page until now for far too long.
I fear altering my present so as not to later discover more ghosts that I'll want to hold close for their fleeting comfort.
All of them are lessons learned wrapped in beautiful packages of hindsight tied with a neat bow of mistakes made. I should leave them as they are. But, once the knot is loosed and tossed aside all I am left with is the beautiful gift of what I really wanted it to be.
It's a painful, self-destructive, non-productive attempt as a better life.
Says the girl who always says (and believes?) "everything happens (happened?) for a reason.

half way

Today is the start of all of the things good I've been wanting for myself, but haven't had the courage to do. It has been a hard parade. It is time for me to be courageous.
My 24th year took me to personal depths I had never expected, but ones I needed to explore. It was heart-breaking, lonely, exhausting, difficult, beautiful and rewarding all at the same time. I allowed all of the relationships in my life to exist as they were meant to which allowed me to find so much more value in the ones I had previously neglected. Those are the ones that carried me through.
I never thought that I would be sitting just where I am, but the best part is, that it's exactly where I want to be right now. I'm working harder than I ever have, but am proud of it daily. I'm living in my own little nook in the world that is an external reflection of how I want to feel on the inside. Simple, bold, strong, comfortable, confident. I'm surrounded by people that have watched me grow in so many ways. That have always been there and I know will continue to be. And I'm getting my mind back so I can give myself what I need most.
You know this twenty-something business is so much harder than I ever, ever imagined it to be. Shoved into the real world only to find out that everything you've been told or thought just isn't so and you've got to figure it out from here.
Your whole life you are constantly passing mile stones. Every summer you move on the next school year. You lose teeth and gain inches. You get smarter and stronger. You achieve.
You graduate college and it feels like you fell off a cliff.
And you did.
But, see, here's the thing I just found out, life after college and as a twenty-something is going to be this ridiculous hardship as you climb up the side of this mountain to the rest of your life. Each inch up, as slow and pain staking as it may be, is taking us to this place of, "oh, okay, this is where I was supposed to end up." And the best part is, we're doing it on our own. Sure there are people cheering you along from below, from above, even next to you. And there's also people doubting you waiting for you to miss a step, but those people should make you want to do it more.
Half-way up, I've learned that no one's going to do it for you. No one can show you how anymore.
And I kind of like it better that way.