… the email signature?

200133301-002A while back, as we sat drinking our cappuccinos on the Library Lawns, he said something that has lingered in the back of my mind. It was over a year ago when I reincarnated these pages that my intention was to be more honest and open than I had in the past. Whether it was habit or just what happens between life the paterfamilias crept back in and what I really wanted to say was pushed out into the nether regions of my conscious. So I’m not going to be too harsh on myself, as I tend to when suffering moments of self-doubt.

 

The truth is, in moments of honesty that he seems to be the only friend that I have right now. And as the end of a bad week not only drew to a close, but blood, I realised that my self-destructive behaviour wasn’t the defensive mechanism I had thought but in reality a time bomb waiting to go off at the worst possible time in my life. In a moment of blind faith, I want to take a chance on a friendship despite the fear that comes with opening yourself up to someone new. The only difference is that this time, I know that the feeling is mutual.

 

As I grow up, I learn that even the one person that wasn’t supposed to ever let me down did and through the years has left me with an ever widening gap of never understanding my [biological] father’s reason as he stood in the middle of the Lucas Oval after a parent’s day punching me in a drunken stupor and how for weeks afterwards it wasn’t the knowing looks of the spectators there but the shame I felt inside because it was my reality. A shame I live with everyday still of being a physically abused child of an alcoholic father.

 

That I will have my heart broken probably more than once and it’s harder every time and feels more acute as I realise that it isn’t a metaphor, or even figurative. Heart break is literally what it is and it never got easier after the Squirrel, or the Paper-Perfect Person or the Sales Guy after that. It started before them and will not end with them but with the orgiastic green light that recedes before me.

 

I’ll break hearts too, and will remember how it felt when mine was broken even though I can still imagine her standing there asking me if I would give her one last hug and knowing that one would never be enough as I saw the tears well up in her eyes. Believing then that I loved her and will always love her despite my shortcoming in not meeting her expectations. That somehow I was never enough.

 

That I’ll fight with my best friends as time separates us and the feeling that the friendship has become unequal. What I put in seems like more than I’m getting out and I question why I bother anymore. That I might never forgive the conscious deception that comes with knowing what the two closest to your heart did when you put your trust into their hands.

 

I’ll blame a new love for things an old one did but in his perseverance and patience has shown me that love is more than has been my experience in the past. That the physical is only one aspect in an adult friendship and the balance is in the discovery.

 

I’ll cry because time is passing too fast and because it feels I’m living on borrowed time. That I will eventually lose someone I love and fear it is my parents who I just cannot seem to connect with at the moment. There is an air of simmering discontent that hardens and darkens moments of clarity. Every which way forward seems to be a wall too high to scale … but needs to be.

 

In the coming year I want to take too many pictures, laugh even if it seems I didn’t get the joke, and take a chance on love and believe in it as if been hurt because every sixty seconds that I spend upset is a minute of happiness with friends and family and a one day a lover I’ll never get back.

 

My coming New Year’s resolution is that I won’t be afraid that my life will end, but rather that it will never begin!

 

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