and this is where I am

that's a long time....

was eating dinner this evening. a conversation turned to my making a comment about something happening in 2018 at a time when i had moved back to a place i'd lived before. in that moment it occurred to me that that was the last time i'd been truly happy. that's a long time between smiles.

marin mazzie - back to before (ragtime) July 4, 1998

ii was reminded of this performance tonight and wanted to share it here as a tribute to a phenomenal talent who left us way too soon.

what i regret most

a few months ago i wrote an entry in which i referred to a past friendship with parenthetical commentary that there was more to be reflected on about that relationship and that "perhaps" I might do so someday. consider this entry a fulfillment of that "perhaps" (at least partially). this entry, as alluded to by the title, is a brief reflection on one of the statements i made in that previous entry, which was, simply put, that i regret that the dysfunctional dynamics of the relationship did not allow for that person to experience me at my best. 

it is what i regret most as i believe that at my best i can be a pretty great person to know. and at his best i think the same may be able to be said about him. it is indeed regretful that two "great people to know" didn't get to have that great experience with one another. 

i recognize that i am not solely at fault for what went wrong with the friendship as he provided ample fuel to my insecurities by his own duplicities. even so, i am still ultimately accountable for how i reacted and for whatever pain, anxiety, or stress that i may have caused him as a result, i am truly sorry. 

i hope that somehow, someday, by some means, he is able to know that.

the subtext

if a james taylor song is the main theme of this blog, i think it makes sense that given the content of this song and my regard for this particular artist, that this song would most accurately reflect the subtext that has emerged over the years.

a song for easter

a song for easter that expresses all that i've ever really wanted from a life of faith.

the expectation of happiness

i had this friend at one time (at least i think he was a friend; the reflections in the intervening years on the complications involved in and eventual dissolution of that relationship are what have caused me to question that belief). anyway, let's just say then that i knew this guy once, who, whenever we talked about his feelings about life, the universe, and everything, it was quite clear that, from his vantage point, life was something to be gotten through; there might be moments of enjoyment, but for the most part, life was not about trying to be happy. for whatever reason, through whatever experiences,  (which i never really learned much about; the fact, as i learned years later, that much of what he shared with me about his life was a fabrication, may have something to do with that and is a story for another time, perhaps), he had lost the expectation to be happy in life.

his somewhat melancholy outlook always made me a little sad whenever it appeared, and for a time i truly wanted to help with that, but i see now (again, from that time spent in reflection, i guess more like a post-mortem, on that relationship) that our mutual brokenness did not allow for me to be of much help. the fact that he was not honest with me about who he was created all kinds of barriers and misunderstandings that made our ability to have a truly supportive friendship with one another impossible. in fact, i think the dynamic set off so many emotional triggers for me, that he often experienced me at my worst rather than at my best -- again, a reflection for another time, perhaps.

now, as i have recently entered the first year of another decade of my life on this planet, i find myself in exactly the same place he was all those years ago. i, too, have lost my expectation of happiness, and i cannot fathom how it will ever return. or even more concerning, how i will ever be able to navigate whatever remaining years of my life without it.