After an extended break from the blogosphere, I have returned to continue this online journal of life after politics. Since I last blogged - on my birthday, as a matter of fact - life, as we say on the campaign trail, has had its exhilarating highs and its soul-crushing lows. The universe continues to throw its interesting tests at me and needless to say, I've been failing more times than I've actually succeeded, dear reader.
I must first mention the loss of our beloved, Andy Griffith, the small town sheriff who showed us what compassion in the execution of the law really was, and of course, the man who gave shut-ins and alcoholics the thrilling excitement of slow-paced courtroom drama, before it was sexy Also answering death's eerie call was another one of the brother's Gibb, Robin Gibb of the Bee Gees.
Of course, the loss of our beloved talent isn't quite the reason I was compelled to write, this evening. After officially completing my first year back in the hallowed halls of higher learning, I find that fitting-in continues to pose a great challenge for me; along with heartbreak, but I'll get back to that. As I go about my day, I feel that I'm increasingly feeling the age gap - recent, heartbreaking reminders of my age haven't helped much - I've found myself in this odd limbo-like reality that's truly worthy of Dante's pen - the deeper I venture, the more macabre it gets. It makes sense that as a single man, completely committing my time to completing two bachelor's degrees, would make an effort to not only assimilate, but attempt to make social connections with women.
Not so fast, says the universe.
Over the past year, I have indeed attempted to make a few connections - a few of which actually seemed quite promising, but I've discovered that chasing-down love is like chasing a mirage, for me anyway. I've always had a personal policy of avoiding opening myself up to people, especially women - I did once and it ended in a very bad, very public way, but that's another blog for another day. Of course we're all human and even the most stringent of personal policies can fall by the wayside when we're compelled by the right woman.
I recently had such an occurrence in which I dropped all of my barriers, and for the first time in a long time, allowed my personality and my heart to take over. For a time, it was quite magnificent; the constant thoughts and excitement of seeing her again as the morning alarm rang; the anticipation of waiting for her to walk into the building; the sleepless nights that seemed to last forever, as if the clock was taunting me - or perhaps it knew something that I didn't; the pounding in my chest and shaking in my limbs while we sat next to each other; I would work to steal a glance, now and then. Just as the bond began to feel strong and I began to feel comfortable about this unique woman that fortune had led me to, it all collapsed like a house of cards.
So, we all know how this love story ends, yes? Well in short, the guy doesn't get the girl. My stomach that was once filled with butterflies and excitement has been converted into an abandoned construction site with nothing but rusted nails and cheap boards; my heart - condemned.
The wonderful and always insightful, Raymond Carver so accurately described falling in love as akin to being tortured by a war lord. "You're falling in love...to be stretched over the rack...to have unspeakable things committed against your person...you want to tell her everything."
In the big picture of life, I suppose I should appreciate the fact that, for one brief moment, I was able to open myself up enough to actually feel something for someone, on a deep level. I think we all want to feel wanted, loved and appreciated by someone who we feel the same for, but the effort in getting there is quite exhausting. For right now, I feel like all of my feelings are on display at a yard sale, half-off on the slightly damaged rack, in the back - prices are negotiable.
It's been an interesting few days and as the saying goes, 'write what you know,' so that's what I've done. Thank you for your indulgence, fellow reader.
Choice Cocktail
Classic Manhattan
One part vemouth.
Five parts rye whiskey.
Stir well in a glass filled with ice.
Strain into a chilled martini glass.
Enjoy.
Repeat.
This classic libation must go with ol' blue eyes, Frank Sinatra, because like the man said, "I'm feelin' so bad...play the music, easy and sad."
