That's where I am right now. I am now in a relationship where I don't see the end just five miles off. Sometimes, especially recently, I have braced myself for catastrophic failure, but I keep being proved wrong, to my incredulity. I often hunch my shoulders, prepare for the other shoe to fall, and close my eyes, waiting for the worst-case scenario to unfold.
But it never happens. Part of my brain wonders, "What the hell? Why?"
And that reminds me of the weight I still carry. The shadows that continue to haunt me. Just because I finally followed my heart into a new life where I can live with one of the women I love doesn't mean that every single moment is blissfully rosy. That's not to say that many of them are not, however. I remain human with human faults, human guilt, and human baggage after all.
Carry all those phantoms
Through bitter wind and stormy skies
From the desert to the mountain
From the lowest low to the highest high
Like a ghost rider
Shadows on the road behind
Shadows on the road ahead
For years I have tried mightily to avoid letting the shadows of years past darken my present reality. And for years I have failed to prevent them entirely. We are who we are, and much of that stems from the memories we make and the joys and disasters we experience. I know it's obvious, but writing that helps remind me of that everyday truth. And that also helps me avoid blaming myself so much.
Which would bring me to one of the first things I want to mention in order to explain my strange disbelief at my amazing circumstances. All through my life, especially at home, school, and in my relationships leading up to when Lalita and I finally accepted our deep and abiding love for each other, I have been inadvertently and explicitly encouraged to blame myself for mistakes that I may or may not have committed. Please understand that I love and appreciate my mother, but like for most people, she messed me up in her own way, and that has rippled through my life all the way up to this very second. For once, I'm going to include some poetry here instead of song lyrics. I read this poem and analyzed it in my Survey of British Literature course while I attended Georgia State more than five years ago. Damn. Has it really been that long? Anyway, here is "This Be the Verse" by British poet Philip Larkin. It's one of the poems that has resonated with me the most in recent memory.
This Be The Verse
They fuck you up, your mum and dad
They may not mean to, but they do
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.
I wouldn't call this a cheerful poem by any stretch, but it rings true. I love my folks, but because their parents fucked them up, they passed that down to me. Being here with Lalita, in an environment totally devoid of the recrimination and criticism that my parents visited on me daily, I find myself confused and not accustomed to...peace. Here I don't hear anything about how much yard work I failed to complete, how I can't have that can of spinach to eat, how I'm solely responsible for repairing my horribly withered relationship with my deaf sister (another conversation entirely) and how I have to make sure not to show any emotion for fear of inciting worse outbursts from my mother. In short, it's been difficult.
Because I had to endure that for about twenty-five years, I tend to expect people close to me to descend upon me like a rain of asteroids at the K-T Event any time I slip up and make the slightest mistake. So, of course, like many, I internalized that fear of retribution and grew into the habit of punishing myself. So if I make a minor mistake with Lalita, I know very well that I was wrong and then proceed to the self-flagellation that I have known for so many years. And sometimes it accumulates and I end up breaking down again. I am too lucky to have someone as understanding and reasonable as Lalita.
Of course, it's not just my parents who contributed to my current (and hopefully improving) state. Siblings, former friends, teachers, and ex-girlfriends join these ranks also. The first vegan I ever met, instead of gently encouraging me to see the advantages and higher morality of abstaining from consuming animal products, called me a murderer and then proceeded to kick me verbally while I was down. A former partner-in-crime from high school denigrated me for "living in sin" because I moved in with a girl five years ago without marrying her. That girl with whom I lived made my life a waking nightmare, eviscerating me at every turn just for being myself. She called me "fat," rubbed my face in her sexual adventures with other guys (despite the fact that I agreed to be with her under the condition that she could sleep with other people), loudly doubted my ability to make friends and even think critically. Basically, she projected many of her own faults onto me. And they stuck for a long time. It certainly didn't help that she used to banish me to the basement of her house when she felt like brushing me off so she could talk with her beaus about me behind my back. I also once had a psychology teacher (ironically) discriminate against me for my atheism. He intentionally lost my homework and refused to acknowledge me when I raised my hand to contribute to class discussion.
All of these aggressions built on each other over time like a coastal shelf. So it makes sense why I often feel fifty pounds heavier.
Wax me
Mould me
Heat the pins and stab them in
You have turned me into this
Just wish that it was bulletproof
And it explains why it's so difficult for me to expect Lalita to treat me differently. It's not her and never has been. She has been tireless in her attempts to remind me gently that this life I have with her is better. I've lived here with her for only three months. Not nearly enough time has passed for that coastal shelf to erode away, but Lalita isn't ready to give up on me yet. When I really think about what she says, I realize she's going to remain by my side for much longer than I can even conceive. I just wish this pain and the feelings from my past didn't make it so hard for me to believe her when she tells me I'm beautiful, and deep, and possessed of a huge heart. We're all damaged in our own way, and I guess that this is mine.
A tear in my brain
Allows the voices in
They wanna push you off the path
With their frequency wires
And you can do no wrong
In my eyes
Your speakers are blowing
Your ears are wrecking
Your hearing damage
You wish you felt better
Technically it's yesterday now, but because I haven't slept yet, it still feels like today. Today proved difficult. Lalita came home from her other lover's house and had some lunch while talking to Jake (her husband). Super Metroid and Super Mario 64 were frustrating me and so therefore I started my day off completely wrong. We went shopping for groceries and I tried to cheer Lalita up while she found herself crushed under her lengthening to-do list and trouble with Jake's issues. When we came home, she said she needed time alone and then the pain from the past caused me to misinterpret her intentions as reproach so I found myself unable to remain in the apartment. I thought that I would brave the bus system of the Denver area and go to the library to cool off. Instead, I got lost and beat myself up for it. I reached the end of the line at Peoria Station and called Jake to pick me up. I was fed up with buses and with the problems of the day, so I started sending terse, negative texts to Lalita because I had no one else to talk to. And because I felt guilty and let myself be more childish than I should have.
After I spent a couple of hours thinking dark thoughts, Lalita returned home, unexpectedly. I was just washing my hands in the bathroom when I suddenly felt her arms enfold me in a close, warm embrace. She held me for a while and then we talked. I poured myself out for her and let loose wracking sobs that left me drained. And through it all, she only healed me with her gentle words and caresses. I don't know how many times I told her that I am not used to that sort of treatment. That fact never prevented her from continuing to build me back up.
I desperately needed her company, almost as much as I did on 1 January. In the time since I moved here, Lalita has never failed to show me that our life together is far better than anything we have both experienced before this point. I just need more time to work through my hearing damage. Though it'll be a tough road getting to that place, we have promised not to give up on each other. It's so much better than I could have ever hoped.
I will never let them break your heart
No, I will never let them break me
You say there is no perfect place, yes I know this is true
We are just learning how to smile
That's not easy to do
I can't handle how the hell it happens every day
When you smile and touch my face
You make it all just go away
Yes I know there ain't no finish line, I know this never ends
But I'm just learning how to fall, climb back up again
I know there is nothing perfect, I know there is nothing new
We are just learning how to live together, me and you
You know I live for the day
When you say "Baby let's just run away"
I'm the Heretic and I'm just learning how to smile.
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