Coming Up Short
By and by I encounter shortages.
Shortages…those periods or positions of my life when or where I did not put forth my best effort, hah…or even lay out enough of an attempt at all. The times when I forewent something, fumbled, or finagled around the forsaken. Without argument arising from anyone…I contributed barely enough during marriage number one and marriage number two to keep those relationships going a while, henceforth my appearance twice in divorce court.
Shortages…personal shortages by my measure are somewhat defined as visibilities of indecisiveness, regret, botched assumptions, a time of my heart in heavy turmoil, or even an incongruency amid my who-am-I-really-core-oracle-values compared to my surface-level behavior.
For the bulk of my life thus far, factually I have operated this here bag of bones and skin child-like…me not accepting or even recognizing the entirety of responsibility for my words, actions, implications, or avoidance pertaining to a myriad of conditions.
Thereupon now I ponder…for the places and times I have come up short, am I able to recover? Can I effectively continue my remaining years without a romantic love in my life…a situation of choice since I kicked out wife number two now almost five years past? Can I continue to remain head-down, documenting my life narrative for another year or two upcoming without a penny of revenue coming in, same-same as I have for the last two and a half years? And can I properly retain hope that despite 40 concussions, self-inflicted neurological damage, and a sometimes unsettled mind, that it all turns out ok in the end…and I should just keep trudging forward? Quite possibly maybe somewhere along the way of living alone during the past five years, time has tempered my previous legacy life quest of always needing to be in a relationship, much because of the learned truth that it was me who turned out to fuck things up anyway.
Maybe…maybe somewhere along the way, I have actually learned something.
I am graced with many friendships, at least 75…whereas I pick up the phone or drop by and the missing decades since last seen or spoken are immediately erased, like we were pals of old again. Such happening blessed me recently…an hour and a half phone call with a former co-worker and friend I have not seen in 25 years, and we’ve only spoken twice since seeing each other last. The time didn’t matter though…the exuberance to catch up and share parts of our lives with each other was robust as ever, and maybe even more so.
Lost…some of my joyous relationships are now lost, regarding both blood family members and my friend family tree. Some such separations are my own doing, and some bubbled up from outside of my control. I struggled recently, within the last 30 days, not to wish happy birthday to two dearly loved humans, both of once-legal or blood relation. But I withheld my celebratory cards. I made no phone calls. I sent no texts. Why? Because I perceived the drama I would stir up would be too much for them to find any joy in my effort, by my measure. Perchance I assumed incorrectly in such holdback birthday regards, but I think not. Lately my attempt to assist or help others has sometimes gone too far and I’ve rubbed people the wrong way, either with my deep long-windedness, or just being a general pain in the ass. I’m far from perfect, and am actually way more imperfect than anything else…I attempt however to be real, to be genuine, to be true, to be authentic…least I try.
Often in the last four months I have heard these words, “The shutdown has been very hard on me”. Expounded detail might follow from my friend the speaker, or maybe not, and the hard on me statement just lingers in the air as the conversation then ends or turns to a new topic. Such admission is a clear signal…a call for help, but some sisters and brothers aren’t ready to receive the assistance…they’re not ready for change…they’re not ready to do additional work, hah…they work hard enough already. They’re not ready to work on themselves, to work on a new task however critical it may seem. If my friend family member is courageous enough to share such words, I am honored to be chosen as a sounding board.
Romance…much of the detailed spoken pandemic heaviness I hear is romance based. Appearingly, we become short-sighted, resentful, or carry our emotional baggage around like a backpack, unable to put it down even for a while. I have been guilty of this and more. Many of my dear friends are younger than me and although most of us dream and speak of happily ever after, the odds are rather overpowering. A mass who are currently married with children will one day face the path towards placement schedules, asset splits, and divorce lawyers.
Give romance a chance…many of the necessary togethering tools exist, we just need to pick them up and crack them open. The Five Love Languages program by Doctor Gary Chapman is a great one, as well as the tales and learnings of broken marriages gone by from our friends and family. I believe a good marriage therapist can perform magic if you can find one, and then there is the special spice of our ability to drop emotions, forgive, and eliminate what I call The Trifecta of Ugly from our romantic unions…the trifecta of judge, blame, and assume. I have been guilty of this and more.
Loving missteps…have I come up short in love by staying too busy at work, knowing and perhaps avoiding some necessary but difficult conversations that await me at home? Yes, but it’s been a while. Have I considered my contribution to the relationship as the sole breadwinner somewhat superior to the value of any child-rearing or house chores? Yes, a rather rude stance for me to take, although it’s been a while. Have I held onto the frustration of my partner for days or weeks or even months at a time without wanting or attempting to just drop it and start today or tomorrow anew? Yes…and it’s been a while.
Togethering unfairness…I hear one-sided tales of romantic unfairness. I listen to the two-sided accounts also…the arguing couples each claiming out loud, “I didn’t say that…I’m not arguing with you…I never did that”, as their volume just gets louder and louder while their children pretend to sleep. I have been guilty of this and more. In my case of botched marriages a competing third party was involved so the complication there is one of astronomical proportions, and frankly a situation I took great offense to and just couldn’t forgive, until it was too late. For me and my lame-ass bird child-like self, I did more pouting than forgiving once the sexy romance shit hit the fan. I came up short in the husbandry arena and maybe my wives did too, but such is not my pursuit. Somehow, I quit trying to keep us together with even a slight percentage of the effort I spent making it to the first date. Later, I forgave both my wives but only after I apologized for all the stupid shit I did or didn’t do which helped get us to where we were pre-tryst.
Togethering versus aparting…overall I would choose togethering rather than aparting, at least the sort of togethering when times are good. Maybe this is my biggest proprietary realization of all…I cannot handle the romantic hard times, which is funny because I’ve survived some verifiable wicked shit otherwise, from most all angles. But in the end, functional romance seems to demand of me more than I possess.
Forever love…and yet still I recognize my interminable great love for my two ex-wives…I love them still, and I will love them forever, I have no choice. Always I will hope their dreams become realized. Forever I believe I will try to assist them in any way I can, and however they might allow me. Such love is great love and great love is forever love…otherwise I would have never married them. I still love all those I once loved, although our best of days is long time past. Soundly today here I sit with the forevermore retained love in my lap for those once flooding my heart, even if briefly and so long ago. Here I sit retaining love for those of you who make up my friend family, no matter the disagreements, years or miles apart. Here I sit accepting that although I waited too long, I forgave both of my two great loves, and I forgave myself, for any coming up shorts along the way.
Try to go do good shit today.
Try to start anew today.
Try to move towards forgiveness today…forgiveness for ourselves and others.
The burden of blame we carry only weighs down we ourselves, not those who we believe crossed us.
Love you all…Bird out.
