hello and goodbye
I said goodbye of sorts to a good friend tonight. He and I don't necessarily often see each other outside of work all that regularly. But, over the last 4 years, we've gotten pretty tight. It's sad to see him go. He is/has moved on to bigger (better?) things. He has become a man. I don't mean to be patronizing, but he has. I have watched him grow into his own skin and his own soul in the last 4 years and I am potentially more proud of him than I ever have been of any one individual that I've ever known. He has been through hell and back, a hell the likes into which I would never want to venture myself, and came close, once upon a time. And he has come out of it, not unscathed, but decidedly a better man for it. he told me tonight essentially that I was instrumental in making him realize his life's dream, and that without my help, he would not be the person he is today. I do not know what to do with this information. It made me cry, in a place and at a time where I was in no position to do so. He, at one point, was bawling hysterically on my shoulder. And, as it turns out, was not the only person to do so tonight. But the second was much more of a surprise. A man who is not unlike the first about which I speak, broke down in hysterical tears in his vehicle tonight, while I was in the passenger seat. We talked for hours, until the sun rose. I think I made a difference. I am always happy to share my experiences and my voice with another, hoping that it will spare them the hurt I've suffered, knowing full well that it will not, as one must always learn the hardest lessons for themselves. A very dear friend reassured (?) me recently that I am "not normal", that I am "better than that". I like to think that the people with whom I choose to surround my life fall into that category, as well. And I would like to think that being 'better than normal', as it were, is a good thing. And I know that it is. And I try to reassure others that it is, but, it is also not without it's consequences/sacrifices. I saw a side of both friends tonight that I'd not necessarily ever fully seen before. Why me? Because I can handle it? Can I? I guess I can. Am I unwilling to accept my 'superhero' status in an effort to remain humble? Or do I just not believe it? I think I do. Or, would like to. I feel like a superhero sometimes, maybe all the time. I mean, the classic superhero tragedy is that the superhero always feels alone, right? With no one to whom to relate fully? Then I guess that solidifies it, right? Fuck. I dunno. I just live. And love. And want others to live, to their fullest potential. And I want to be loved. I know I am loved by many. That's not a question. And that knowledge does help most nights. But then there are some nights, when knowledge isn't enough. I can't wrap my arms around knowledge. I can't kiss and embrace knowledge. Only the dark. And I do. A lady I lost long ago, came from out of the blue yesterday, with the sweetest words ever I read, just for me, for my eyes and for my soul to absorb. And it was amazing. I've never stopped loving her. But, I've never stopped loving anyone that I've ever loved. I just love them all differently. I used to think there was only one way. I've learned since then. I can never love the way I remember loving a decade (or longer) ago. That doesn't mean I've stopped. And I recognize that. Everything gets simpler and more difficult the older it gets. So, I wonder, who gives comfort to the superhero? Even a superhero must get tired of being strong all the time, right?