Familiar Stories: Ramblings.

For so long, I just didn't get it.  I was young; too young to talk like I was old.   We cling to the past because it's familar. 

At some point, I stopped combing my hair.  It doesn't necessarily mean I stopped caring.  I like the look of chaos.  Well, chaos is all I've ever known.  I'm not comfortable with anyone or anything that presents a semblance of order.   Why do you love me?  she asks.  Because you're almost as big as a mess I am.

One day, my ass is sticking to the passenger seat of his truck.  I'm holding a cassette tape of Motley Crue.  Three hour road trip, here we go.   It doesn't get better than this.   I'm still singing that song because it's familar.  I don't want to hear new Motley Crue music.  God, but I would love to just hear one new sentence from him.

Never forget, that one day we can step out our front door and our whole life changes forever.   I hear that quote in the fatherly voice of Bob Saget preceded by the word Kids.

There are two memorable rainy days in my life.  If it rains tomorrow, I'll be swept back to those two days.  I wish cell phones existed on those days.  I'm shivering in this warm rain.   My heart breaks at the thought of what could have been.  Two rainy days, two lost loves.  I see them both now and they're both beautiful.  They became the beautiful women I knew they would be someday. 

I walked into work as I always do on Mondays; refreshed.   I always thought it was stupid that Garfield would complain that he hated mondays. You're a fucking cat.  You sleep all day.  Everyday.  My life changed on this specific day.  It was an email.   Noone wants to find out their best friend died via an electronic chain mail. 

Sitting in my cubicle, face staring at the wall in front of me as tears streamed down my face.   It wasn't shock, surprisingly.  It was the culimation of experiencing self fulfilled prophecy for the first time.  I never agreed with this notion we should celebrate one's life instead of grieving for its end.  Everything always ends too soon.

I stopped making all phone calls and sending out texts.  It wasn't for the sake of self-preservation.  I didn't just stop loving her.  Maybe, for the first time in my life, I was being unselfish.  I was an anchor.  I was holding her down; holding her back.  It rained the night we last spoke.  So, that is three memorable rainy nights in my life.  All of them involved three different women; all beautiful.

My ass kept sticking to that wooden chair in macro economics 103.   Everything was in slow motion.  A one hour economics class under the influence seems like forever.   I don't brag about any educational accomplishments because being able to memorize shit we are told to memorize does not equate to intelligence.  

Stupid smart people point to diplomas on their wall.   The great moments of life aren't necessarily the things we do.  They are the things that happen to us.   And I think about that piece of wisdom in the fatherly voice of Bob Saget. 

I was told way back then to cherish the moments.  I don't think we ever cherish anything until they're gone.  I saw a different future for me.   I arrived here; arrogance intact.  But that's about it. 

I think about pride.   It's so debilitating.  It paralyzes us.  If we claim that no one really knows the real us, blame pride.   That's your fault.  Our fault.  My fault.

For so long, I didn't get it. 

I do now.

Familiarity is comfortable.