Things I'm Seeing Without You

What I mean is that nothing ever happens the way it’s supposed to. Everything is messed up. Everything is flawed. And if we didn’t have imperfection, I’m not sure what we would have left.

Gradually, I’d learned to dole out my “real” personality in small, safe doses to avoid scaring people away.

I’m also doing it because I’m terrified,” I said. Daniel watched me a moment. “Of what?” He said “oh,” I said. “Everything. But mostly my impermanence.” His eyes searched my face. “Some people are comforted by that,” I said. “Not me. I like existing. At least most of the time. I like having a body. I want to keep it. But someday I won’t have anymore. That’s unsettling.” I look at the chip railing on the dock. “And I’m scared of being buried underground where worms and bugs will digest my remains. I know I won’t be conscious, but still. Does that sound pleasant to you? I’m scared of being burned into a pile of oxidized matter. I’m scared of rioting and decaying.” I was building up steam now. “I’m scared that I don’t matter, even a little bit, and that no one matters and nothing matters. I’m scared that it all matters and I’m effing it up. I’m scared I’m living my short life wrong in every possible way. I’m scared I’ve already made so many mistakes and I don’t have enough time to fix them. I’m scared I won’t die with the slightest amount of dignity, like on the toilet or watching bravo. I’m scared no one will care when I do. I’m scared the only person I ever loved wasn’t real. I’m scared I will never get over him. And I’m scared I’m making the same mistake again.

The way I see it, we have a bunch of imperfect moments all lined up, one after the next, and we feel this strange, imperfect love. Then, before we know it, it's all over. We give everything we have, but that can never be enough to make things just the way we want them, or to keep someone with us as long as we'd like. But the struggle is worth something. And the love is worth something even though it's imperfect. And maybe we should try to celebrate this brief, incomplete thing we've been given. Maybe that's all we can do when we find ourselves in the dark.

I killed the things that defined me. Every band. Every movie. Every witty quote. Every video. Every flattering photo. Gone.

This,” I said, “was not how it was supposed to be.” The short sentence bounced around the cave,coming back to me Word for Word. “I just want to be honest,”I said. “it seems silly to do anything else at this point. The truth is that we’re not supposed to be here, and we all know that. We’re not supposed to be inside of a church made by old – timey people. We weren’t supposed to bring Jonah here. We weren’t supposed to hide from an Italian park ranger on horseback.” I paused and waited for my echoing voice to quiet. “Also, Maybe this is obvious, but Jonah was not supposed to die. Not yet. None of it was supposed to happen like this. Grace eyed me quizzically. “I don’t mean to be bleak,” I continued “I know it sounds that way. What I mean is that nothing ever happens the way it supposed to. Everything is messed up. Everything is flawed. And if we didn’t have imperfection, I’m not sure what we would have left.” I looked out into the light outside. What I could see of the landscape one year and went to the camera but me. “The way I see it, we have a bunch of imperfect moments all lined up, one after the next, and we feel this strange, imperfect love. Then, before we know it, it’s all over. We give everything we have, but that can never be enough to make things just the way we want them, or to keep someone with us as long as we’d like. But the struggle is worth something. And the love is worth something even though it’s imperfect. And maybe we should try to celebrate this brief, incomplete thing we’ve been given. Maybe that’s all we can do when we find ourselves in the dark.” Everyone remained quiet. I couldn’t tell by looking at them how they felt about what I was saying. Still, no one interrupted me, so I kept going. “Just because something didn’t last as long as you needed doesn’t mean it wasn’t genuine. Jonah and I had an in perfect love. So what? That doesn’t cancel it. And it’s not gone. It’s still here. And, today, I just want to bring it back. I want to make it tangible again for a little while .

I'm scared that I don't matter, even a little bit, and that no one matters and nothing matters. I'm scared that it all matters and I'm fucking it up. I'm scared I'm living my short short life wrong in every possible way. I'm scare I won't die with the slightest amount of dignity...I'm scared no one will care when I do.