And bad mistakes....I've made a few....
I had a convo today that brought up many memories, and the mistakes I may have made, or just thought I did. The list is long, and too numerous to list, so I will not endeavor to do so as I am tired. But the thought I felt like expressing through written word is simply this; our mistakes, our memories, and our actions we do as a result of those learned experiences have a way of making one feel as though one's life has been nothing but a roller coaster of jumbled fucked up events, and that we are nothing but hapless voyagers upon a storm tossed sea of would haves, could haves, and should haves. My dreams as of late have been focused a lot on the past, and the different actions I could have taken. I don't know...no, I do know that I haven't always made the best decisions in my life, if I did I would not be where I am now, writing this. But I suppose, and remind you that this is merely supposition, that I made the best choices I perceived at the time. What if I hadn't returned early from the job my uncle gave me when shit was goin down, what if I hadn't come back to San Diego on the feather light promises that I could have back one of the only women I have ever truly loved, what if I had never made that initial trip back to Arkansas....what if I never came back from my vacation back there? But only wishing for victory is the quickest way to defeat. I did do all those things, and now, I must attempt to put right that which I have wronged in my life.
What if I did kiss her....that thought plagues me to this day. I told her that my restraint was held by the thinnest of threads, in truth the thread had long since vanished, and only my hesitation kept me from doin that which I had for years longed to do. What if. Those two little words cause us so much worry. It's difficult to not take stock every now and again, but the trick is to not dwell on the what ifs'. And a mighty trick that is. We all have regrets in our life, we all feel a pang of "damn that was stupid", none of us are immune, and if you are truthful to yourself, you will find many occasions in your life you cringe at the choice you made. LOL but be careful, or you may end up like me and start thinking that your regrets outweigh your good choices.
What if I never offered her the choice...that is another that plagues me to this day. I did not fully understand the pull of addiction, and I did not really understand her need to hang on to that venomous spirit so tightly. The guilt I feel is misplaced some would tell me, Mike and Greg the most I am sure, but if I hadn't offered her the choice, would the world have been a different place for me? Would I know my sisters, would I know the people that willingly opened their home to me, would I know that full of shit redneck bastard I call friend? Would I know, and not just know of, the man not of my blood I call brother? These things weigh upon me, and while I would not give them up for the world, I cannot help but wonder how different my world would be if I had simply tried a little harder, if I had simply not taken that first line of meth, and started down my own spiral into Dante's famous realm. Would she still be alive today?
What if I had never sent her back home....would I have then compromised so completely my beliefs that i would surely now be more hollow than I already feel? Would her life be in a better position? Would I have just continued on my way back down another path into that famous authors favored topic? But that one is easily battled, and thank God for that cause I know, I feel the pain that came from making that decision. A daughter now has the opportunity to know her mother, a mother now has the opportunity to be just that, a mother. Those thoughts alone ease the pain I feel from that chapter in my life. And for that I am happy, for it seems that the chapter, while I was not done reading, has ended, and that happiness my only consolation.
What if I hadn't wanted so much to make HIM pay....would the nightmares I started experiencing as a child worsened as they did? Would the faith I so blindly held in HIS good grace, converted so quickly to sceptisim, and then to distrust, and finally to pale dislike? Would the return I have slowly been going through be fraught with whispers of the knowledge I now hold? Is the knowledge I now hold really worth having. Would I have been better off being blinded to the realities of the ENEMY? Or does my knowledge of said better arm me against the plays on my mind and soul?
Forgive me, that last bit got a bit theological. But these are the thoughts that have come to mind while my fingers plod across this beaten keyboard. That said, I think I will retire, in hopes of escaping the dreams I am sure writing these words will bring on, but I go to face them none the less.
Blasphim
I cried tears of of love, as I
with sharp things sacrificed
That which was the first part
Of my joy, my brother
-Book of Nod
What if I did kiss her....that thought plagues me to this day. I told her that my restraint was held by the thinnest of threads, in truth the thread had long since vanished, and only my hesitation kept me from doin that which I had for years longed to do. What if. Those two little words cause us so much worry. It's difficult to not take stock every now and again, but the trick is to not dwell on the what ifs'. And a mighty trick that is. We all have regrets in our life, we all feel a pang of "damn that was stupid", none of us are immune, and if you are truthful to yourself, you will find many occasions in your life you cringe at the choice you made. LOL but be careful, or you may end up like me and start thinking that your regrets outweigh your good choices.
What if I never offered her the choice...that is another that plagues me to this day. I did not fully understand the pull of addiction, and I did not really understand her need to hang on to that venomous spirit so tightly. The guilt I feel is misplaced some would tell me, Mike and Greg the most I am sure, but if I hadn't offered her the choice, would the world have been a different place for me? Would I know my sisters, would I know the people that willingly opened their home to me, would I know that full of shit redneck bastard I call friend? Would I know, and not just know of, the man not of my blood I call brother? These things weigh upon me, and while I would not give them up for the world, I cannot help but wonder how different my world would be if I had simply tried a little harder, if I had simply not taken that first line of meth, and started down my own spiral into Dante's famous realm. Would she still be alive today?
What if I had never sent her back home....would I have then compromised so completely my beliefs that i would surely now be more hollow than I already feel? Would her life be in a better position? Would I have just continued on my way back down another path into that famous authors favored topic? But that one is easily battled, and thank God for that cause I know, I feel the pain that came from making that decision. A daughter now has the opportunity to know her mother, a mother now has the opportunity to be just that, a mother. Those thoughts alone ease the pain I feel from that chapter in my life. And for that I am happy, for it seems that the chapter, while I was not done reading, has ended, and that happiness my only consolation.
What if I hadn't wanted so much to make HIM pay....would the nightmares I started experiencing as a child worsened as they did? Would the faith I so blindly held in HIS good grace, converted so quickly to sceptisim, and then to distrust, and finally to pale dislike? Would the return I have slowly been going through be fraught with whispers of the knowledge I now hold? Is the knowledge I now hold really worth having. Would I have been better off being blinded to the realities of the ENEMY? Or does my knowledge of said better arm me against the plays on my mind and soul?
Forgive me, that last bit got a bit theological. But these are the thoughts that have come to mind while my fingers plod across this beaten keyboard. That said, I think I will retire, in hopes of escaping the dreams I am sure writing these words will bring on, but I go to face them none the less.
Blasphim
I cried tears of of love, as I
with sharp things sacrificed
That which was the first part
Of my joy, my brother
-Book of Nod