Truth

Well, let’s see…I have a few things to talk about today….I’m home for Thanksgiving and everythings splendid….things have changed but not too much so la de da.

First things first, before I write the poem which I’m sure you all are just so excited to hear about, I just wanted to answer the theme of the week.

Is there someone in my life I trust completely? No and yes. I trust everyone and never believe that they will purposely hurt me or harm me….even my nagging suspicions I cast aside because I can’t live a life where I question everyone’s motives, it doesn’t work. Yes, I get hammered all the time when people take advantage of me but you know what, they beat me so bad by now I don’t really much care. I figure, if they want to do something bad to me, they would’ve done it one way or the other. Is there someone that I trust with my own self completely? No. No one really knows me truly. They see the me that is for the most part genuine, I laugh like a dork, I say dorky things, I think things are incredibly funny that no one else does, I laugh at things that no one even catches and pride myself when they shoot me confused looks. I am a good guy, I try to do nice things and I try to be everyone’s friend….but who am I really?

The me people see is what I’ve listed above, sometimes I’m moody but for the most part that’s me. The real me is a guy who dreams about being an actor/director/writer but would give it all up just for a girl to fall in love with him the way he falls in love for them. The real me is a guy who sees almost every girl he meets as someone beautiful and a guy who really likes most everyone he meets. The real me is a guy who is romantic and funny and charming and a total clutz. I do everything wrong and I just wish once that I could do things just right. The real me is the guy the girlfriends I’ve had has seen, and maybe I trusted them more than anyone else….and I miss them both, and I hate myself for breaking up with them not because I did, because when I did it was right, and I don’t want to get together with them because that’s wrong to do. It’s a feeling in me that says, “You hurt them so much by breaking up with them and all they ever left you with was good memories, why couldn’t you have let them go in a better way?” And the little sensibility I have tells me that there is no easy way to break up from a good thing….and they were good things, but they weren’t the right things. And one hates me and the other I get along with…so that’s the way it goes. I don’t even know if this makes sense. There’s this beacon of light shining on me right now that’s just illuminating so much. I’m beginning to realize that when I let myself go and don’t watch what I’m doing, I begin to find a friend and just talk and talk and talk their ears off….why? Because all my life I’ve never been able to tell anyone anything about my life…..because no one has ever really wanted to listen. It’s a sad fact, I guess…..but hey….there were are….a long answer to the theme of the week….now for a poem.

Truly

Struck hard then cradled close,

By the nurturing decency of my heart,

For far away the arrow came,

But the wound it struck was not fresh,

It struck the place a million blows had found,

The place that never dies but never heals.

And time began to fade the shaft away,

The tip disappeared without a trace,

And nothing was left to remind me of it’s pain,

Until the day it arrived again,

And thrust itself so deep in me that I could not stand.

This deadly grip held me and cut my breath,

Until I lay with nothing to do but think and pray,

Until all that was left of me was my mind and soul,

And the arrow running through my heart,

Bathing the ground in my deep red blood.

And I thought about her, and the others before,

Hundreds stacked upon my heart pressing down,

All lost, all forsaken, all within my grasp but out of reach,

And then my mind dwelled upon these many faces,

Each with a perfumed name and sweet melody all their own.

My mind dwelled on those who struck out with fire,

Branding me with hate and anger and bitterness,

But my bitterness was no more I knew, no hate in me,

For the mark had burned with hate but left a different mark,

It had left the brand of apprehension and fear which haunts me still.

Then leapt to those who I had lost,

And shame for hurting them fell upon me then,

And I still loved them both but not the way I once did,

And I hoped that they could someday forgive me,

Perhaps by the time my final breath departs.

Then onward to the ones within my sight this moment,

The many, the few, the perfect angels I adored,

Each one radiant, each one a privilege to adore,

Each one a miracle to have reciprocated feelings,

But the ugly mark that the first gave me has held me back.

And then to “the one,” a special magical person,

Whose name I knew and song I felt within my heart,

Who was in a world all her own for a thousand reasons,

She who I should feel so horribly destroyed for losing,

But as I think of her I smile and cry for happiness.

And it’s with her that I understand what I have forgotten,

Nay, what I had never learned for all the years I existed,

That love is not to be held within…no matter fear or failure,

For this one I had lost but smiled upon when I did see her,

For there is still a magic in my heart that beats for her……

Yet if I had not asked I’d never have known,

And when our eyes meet the look would be the same,

Whether I had asked or whether I had not,

For time fades all things away no matter their nature,

And love, so powerful and true, is not exempt, is not immune.

With that I rose from the deadly wound,

And plucked the stinging arrow from my heart,

And found that it was glazed in something,

A concoction made of sweet honey and roses,

The arrow sent by my worshipped idol…..

To leap into love with both feet is all that is left to be done.