(I am thinking of the song by Common. Not that it has anything to do with anything.)
I read Sunday’s entry on Incidental Findings—no permalinks, so scroll down to 9/29 or look in the archives—and once again, I find it crazy that some aspects of my life parallel this author’s experience.
I think I have come to grips with the fact that I am going to be alone for the rest of my life (which, as I’ve mentioned before, might in fact be brief if any of my dreams come true.) While I have been given to wallowing in my own patheticness in the past, this recent resolution is more because I have realized my limitations. Given the fact that I can’t seem to trust anybody, there is no way anything is going to happen. Simple as that. Cause and effect. No need to wail about destiny or karma or sheer bad luck. God didn’t dick me. I dicked myself.
By the way, I finally made it back to the Bay Area. I haven’t really come to grips with all the changes that have occurred in my life in the last five years. It’s almost like a dream. I’m such a different person, in good ways and in bad ways. It’s really weird to try to trace the thread of my life, and realize that there’s no way to separate the bad from the good.
But I have a long commute (which, as I’ve mentioned before, gives me way too much time to think) and all these memories from my undergrad days come flooding back. What is interesting is that I only sense the sadness and the pain intellectually. It no longer drives a figurative stake through my heart, sending me reeling into self-pity. I feel disoriented by it, like it’s some other person’s memories that I’ve inherited. I can dissect them from a distance, think about them in a relatively objective manner. I suppose I just realize that I wouldn’t be who I am today (for better or for worse) if I hadn’t suffered the way I did.
So, at least, I have my career. I have my friends. I have my family. On one level, these are just the rationalizations of a lonely man trying to justify his existence. On another level, I am counting my blessings (because, in the end, I am afraid of losing even what little I have, a phenomenon once described by Oscar Zeta Acosta.) Is it a fair exchange? Career vs. family. To never know what it is to come home to my beloved wife and children. I’m coming to grips with it. You’ve got to play the cards you’ve been dealt, I suppose.
Feh. You dig deep enough, eventually you’re going to draw blood. It still hurts. But too many things need to happen for things to turn out the way I want. I really just need to focus on what I’ve got, and go from there. Because nothing in this life is ever certain, and it’s better to be pleasantly surprised than bitterly disappointed. Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst. Yeah, I wish life were better. I suppose, at least life isn’t worse. At least that’s what I tell myself to help me sleep at night.