I saw you, day before,
Moving on, on some dating app;
You looked good; I smiled;
I didn’t fall into some anxious trap.
After ten months, I thought,
I have begun to let go –
But now I fear my mind
Keeps secrets it doesn’t show.
I know now that nothing
Was what seemed about you;
And yet, last night, as I slept,
I dreamed about you.
The days fly by,
Like seasons do;
I’m forgotten;
But alive, too.
Few days are good;
Most still are bad;
Some hours bring smiles;
Most keep me sad.
As the days go,
I let them, one
By one, and blur
The moon and the sun.
I put on smiles,
As night takes day;
And like the night,
They do not stay.
So I live them,
Like pills and sleep,
Like dreams I dream;
But cannot keep.
The thing about life is that no matter how honest you want to get with it, it always wants a show. Something sensational! Something that will make others go, oh, really! How terrible! Or, really, how incredible! When you want to live your life according to the honest, and being truthful and wish to live your life according to your own terms, you can do so – but two conclusions happen. One where the world decides that you cannot be trifled with and so leaves you to their own devices. Two, where the world pretends to assume that it was not you who helped with the creation of your life but everyone around you made who you are and so credit should never come to you.
When I was young, I was bullied, ridiculed and beaten. Society – from my father to my friends – tried to make me behave in a certain way. If I didn’t, I was beaten, thanks to my father, or I was left, like countless friends and lovers. If I came out, it was because I had a fantastic support structure. If I stood up against bullies, it was because my father toughened me up. If I decided I would leave my family if they didn’t accept my sexuality, and they did accept me, it was because I had a fantastic, understanding family. If I was cheated on by my lover of thirteen years, and opened up my relationship so that I could participate in a new world view, my lover was broad-minded enough to accept this change. If my mother left my father, after he nearly strangled me to death, she was brave enough to do so.
I sound petulant now, don’t I?
No.
In this day and age, I have realized one thing. I have made me who I am. I have been broken. I have been torn apart. I have been beaten. Literally. And I have made it through. I have lived my life on my terms. I have decided that the path of honesty is something I want to walk on, irrespective of what and who I might lose. I have been true to every single value that I took up and I have never shirked my responsibilities. I have been through shit, of course, there is this concept of whose shit is more difficult, harder, crueler… but we are not comparing.
I remember a dialogue from Ally McBeal. Georgia goes, “Ally, why are your problems bigger than the rest of ours?” And Ally replies, “Because they are mine.” However, that is not even the issue I am trying to bring about. I am not complaining about the problems I have faced. I am not even complaining about the acknowledgement that goes elsewhere. I am just asking for some honesty. If you don’t wish to listen to me, do not. Do not, however, make the pretence of listening and then realizing I don’t make good matter, because I am unbreakable.
We all want good drama. But I realise I am now a spoiler. I am the ending that is sure. The path already taken. And as I write this down, I realise that if that is so, I should also know that people in general are flawed, like me, and prefer the journey while the destination is unknown. I on the other hand, am comfortable where I am because I know the destination and the journey are all a part of drama any way.
Hearts Still Care 
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