The glow of know

Two years.  My how they fly.  I have memory that 2012 was not a pinnacle year for me.  There were a lot of good things.  A lot of theatre that year.  I met new people.  Made new friends.  I don't spend a lot of time dwelling on the negative things, but sometimes they creep in.  Especially when some of those things are relatively life changing events.

Two years.  My how they fly.  It's been two years now since I came to the end of my last relationship.  July will also see the 8th anniversary of my divorce.  Eight years since I was married.  Two years since I've been in a relationship.

And the big wheels really do keep on turnin.

I grew up in a moderately conservative religion.  I didn't go through horror stories like I hear about the more rigid dogmas.  Still though.  I was taught from a very young age, to follow the straight and narrow.  I have long since discovered that I much prefer the wide and bendy...but that took a while.

There were rules.  Lots of em.  There were constant reminders of the rules.  Weekly church service.  Youth groups.  Conferences.  Camps.  All designed to instill in us a sense of obedience.  God's blessings upon us for righteous living...and all that glorious jazz.

I was by no means a model citizen of following these rules, but for the most part I gave it a shot.  I went through the mormon process of sin/repentence/forgiveness.  Many times.  I know the routine.  Still, all these decades later I know the routine.  I remember meeting with upper clergy.  Specifically, my many different Bishops, who had the fortunate honor of listening to all my sins in confession.  Got to a point where it was more of a friendly chat, than any type of shaming process.

Ulitmately I think the problem is, even from a young age, I've never really connected to that guilt thing.  Shame has never had much of an effect on me.  Ever.  If you can't guilt or shame a young man into righteousness, there's probably not much hope for him.  These are, after all, the prefered methods of instruction.

So I did go throught the motions.  I walked the walk.  I very much talked the talk.  Oh sweet baby jesus do I know the vernacular.  I could still over a decade and a half, stand at the pulpit, and say the right words that would bring tears to the eyes of all the moms in the audience.  It's called acting.  Follow a script.  Present the emotions.  Take a bow.

I just...

I just...

I just really need to keep my acting honest.
My life honest.
Even my lies need to be honest.
And they are.
For the most part.

There is nothing honest, nothing, about me pretending to hold to any religion.
When I finally embraced this honesty, there was no looking back.
I was much too old to go through the experimental stage that happened next.

I should have done all this shit in my teens.  Maybe the first couple years in college.  However, I was still abiding to religious conscript at those ages, so...

I guess I'm a late bloomer, as they say.  Oh well.  Could be worse.  I could have never had that stage at all.

So all my rules vanished in a flash of light and new found freedom.

I did all the things.
I dumped so many chemicals into my body.
Hallucinogens.
Narcotics.
Uppers.
Downers.
Alcohol.
Gasses.
Liquids.
Pills.
Inhalants.
and the goddamn nicotine.
Of all the shit I put into my body.
For all the good times and bad...
For all the yes's I was taught to say no to...
It was the goddamn nicotine that got me.
It's a gripper...that's fer damn sure.

If not for the nicotine, I could say I entirely cleaned up.  I haven't really done any of that for years now.  And here's the kicker.  The thing they never tell you in the D.A.R.E. classes.  All that drug education...

I don't regret a single second of it.
I don't miss it...
But my god I had good times.
I done seen some shit.
I've taken the magical mystery tour.
And it was magical.
And there was mystery.

And there isn't a single thing that I've given an absolute no to.  I just don't really have much interest or inclination for much of it anymore.

And I didn't need rehab.  I didn't have to "get clean".  I didn't need counciling.  I didn't go through with withdrawals or cravings for any of it.  (Nicotine being the exception, but that's a whole nother story((yes I said whole nother.  Deal with it.))

And I did all the sex.  Until the divorce, in my entire life, I'd only had sex with one girl.  Oh sure, there was some mischevious fooling around with a girl here or there in my high school years.  Mostly just exploratory, and discovery stuff that I'm sure everyone goes through.  You know...the really really fun stuff when you're that age, and have no idea what the fuck the opposite gender is actually made of.
My wife was my first.
That was one of the church rules I actually kept.
I'm am SO fucking pissed that I did.
I truly believe this is a pretty harmful rule, and should be broken by every person.  Always.  No one should ever have to bear with the thought that they'll only be with "one special person" their entire life.
What a waste.

And I carried that anger with me after the divorce.  Having only really experienced sexual activity with one other person, I went out into the world in my early thirties entirely unequipped to handle life as a single sexually active adult.  I really only knew how one other body responded to my body.  How we reacted together.  I took an incredibly limited experience into the big bad world of  Las Vegas nightlife.

And I did all the things.
And I tried all the flavors.
I discovered fetishes.
And toys.
And clubs.
And groups.
And websites.
I bought a one way ticket on the magical mystery tour.
And it was magical.
And there was mystery.
Dear sweet baby jesus there was mystery.

And the only mystery I solved, is that each one of you is different.  Every fucking one of you is so fucking different. You are each one of you, your own beautiful mystery. And that is my favorite mystery of them all.  And my greatest wish is that in the end, it really is curiosity that kills this cat.

The other thing I learned, is that I don't really have the inclination or interest in much of that.  Having had my adventure, what I discovered about myself is that I'm not really as fond of that particular lifestyle as I thought I might be.  It seemed pretty cool from the outside looking in, but the vapid meaninglessness of it all, come to find out, holds pretty much zero appeal to me.

So I'm in a bit of a pickle.  A conundrum of sorts.  A middle ground.  A grey area.  A neutral zone.  A come to find out nearly mythical, and non existant place of no desire for a committed monogomous relationship, and a severe distaste for meaningless.

A delicate balance of it's gotta mean something...but by god it can't mean too much.

So I went from a childhood ruled by rules.  Into adulthood with a long list of them.
I let go of my religion, and with it all the rules it contained.

I know it's pretty cliche, but that's exactly what happened.  One extreme to the other.  Oh well.  I've been called out for being a cliche before.  I probably will be again.  Hell...I've got starving artist nailed.

And I descended into lawlessness, and discovered that didn't work well for me either.  It seems appealing in theory, but come to find out, it's not nearly all it's cracked up to be.  So I discovered that perhaps rules weren't such a bad thing after all, and perhaps I should adopt some.

So I did.
My own personal guide to better living.  I was pretty good with them for a while.  And I'd live my life and as the need arose, I'd apply some new rule. New boundary.  New way to give my life some sort of focus.

Then I noticed a funny thing start to happen.  Sometimes, almost as soon as I gave myself this new rule, occasion would come along to break it.  I would.  I'd break that fucker with great gusto.

Eventually I ruled it down to one, it's the one I haven't broken yet.
It's the one rule that I never will.  As long as it is in my power, I will not.

Just don't hurt people.

That's it.  That's the one rule that rings them all.

Everything else in my crazy little fiction that I call my life, is pretty much fair game.

I do have...I dunno...thoughts.  Ideas.  Ways I prefer to go, over other ways.  Preferences.

Two years.  My how they fly.  Two years ago my last relationship ended.  I have been "single" ever since.  I stated at the time that I would remain so.

A put it out there almost as...you know...as a rule.  That was my rule.  I would live the remainder of my life as a bachelor.

Well, I realize now that it doesn't really fit into the whole don't hurt people thing...so I can't call it a rule.

I can still call it a preference.  And I will.  I still see no reason to attach myself to another person.  I still don't crave it.

Except I do.

But I don't.

I know.  I am full of contradiction.

See cause here's the thing.  Life is too goddamn short.  Too goddamn precious.  Too goddamn amazing to put restrictions on.

I understand now, through my own experience that restrictions may be a good thing here and there.  Some people do need to be governed.  Some more than others.

But by god, break the rules.
Live.
Experience.

Not all of my experiences have been good ones, but holy fuck do I have some stories to tell.  I know things about myself now, that I would never have known, if I would have allowed my fear.

If I had stuck to my lessons.
If I had stuck to the straight and narrow.
If I had said no to all the things I was taught to say no to.

I know me.
I know now the things to say yes and no to...not because someone else told me those things...but because I was either smart, or stupid enough to find out for myself.

And now I know, I know more than I know anything else, that I live in a world of beautiful possibility.
There are more things in heaven and earth and all that jazz.
I know the thrill of discovery.
I know the power of yes.

I don't know where all my yesses are.  I'm still looking for most of them.  In my own way.  In my own very slow fashion.  I don't even know if all of my yesses even exist outside of fiction.

I hope that my yesses are found in love.  Most of them have been.  Sometimes you gotta swim through a lot of shit, to find the love tree...but when you do...all that shit was not only worth it, but in retrospect, rather forgettable.

It is really really easy to brush off, clean up, throw on the snazzy jacket, light up a smoke, and smile through every painful memory, when you're eating the love apple.

And it's all apples.
Everywhere.

My god it's so easy.
To love.
To love you.
To love every single scar.
And every heartbreak.
And every supposed enemy.
And every painful morning.
And every tearful night.
And all the mountians of thorns, and rocks.
To love Every Single Goddamn breath we get to take.

Because that's the price of life.  That is the cost of being human.  And being human is pretty much tops.

I would take every wound I've ever had, every pain I've ever conceived. Multiplied infinitum.
I would pay the price a thousand thousand times, and an thousand times again.
I don't give a fuck...

Because in the end, we will be old.
We will have stories to tell.
And I will die with a smile that I've been a part of those stories.

And I will take my final breath, with a heart full of gratitude, that you have been a part of mine.

Every broken rule, has brought me here.
And here
right here.
right now...

is pretty fucking amazing.