Solitude

It is unfortunate that today words like "solitude", "solitary" and "alone" have such an adverse sound to them. None of them are depressing in definition but we think of sadness when we hear them. I am beginning to believe that we think this way because we are afraid to be what these words are. We fear what we do not know.

For years now I have had what I am calling "Jerry Maguire syndrome". You have seen the movie, Tom Cruise plays the guy that "cannot be alone". In the 12 years since I moved back to Michigan I have been in 3 relationships and over that time I have been cumulatively single for a whopping 3 months. It is abhorrently apparent that I did none of those women, or myself, any favor in regards to being ready for that commitment.

We justify this quick jump with excuses about how there was no love at the end of that relationship or that we have been in long term relationships before so we knew what to expect. Even worse, sometimes we will fill ourselves up with how exciting it is to be pursued by the next person. I would ask if we are kidding ourselves but we obviously are. The problem is, behaving this way is proceeding forward with reckless abandon for our own selves as well as that next person. They will become collateral damage. As you jump in their boat, the loss of that previous relationship that you never came to terms with will rise as an undetected rocky reef and sink you well before you get to that sunset you sailed off towards together.

To deny this fact is to move forward with malice towards the next heart you pursue. I have finally admitted that and grasped this concept; solitude is a great teacher.

One of my favorite movies, 'Into the Wild', taught me a profound quote: "Happiness is only real when it is shared." I recognize this, yet long to embrace it. My first thought is I cannot wait to venture out, but the fact is I can wait. I must wait. We must wait and give ourselves time. I have nothing less to offer the next person than a depressed, disorganized, disheveled shell of myself that still wallows in uncharted waters of what I am.  I am better than this and that next person deserves better than this. I will navigate those waters and be sure to map out those reefs thoroughly before allowing any boat within them.

Happiness is only real when it is shared but our intentions are only true when it is real happiness that we seek to share, not the miseries and unsettled pasts of previous broken hearts and shattered dreams.

Self-sufficient

To accurately summarize the past six months I would need a word that concomitantly spoke to obtaining a secure grasp on an extraordinary amount of emotional adversity as well as incorporating an exhausting effort towards reinvention of oneself.

The courthouse I visited today in Flint, Michigan is the same one I found myself in just less than 5 years ago. It was then I stood before the county clerk and applied for a marriage license with my soon to be wife. Today, in that same courthouse, I stood beside that same woman yet only this time we legally bid adieus to one another.

I began this blog to document the promises I made to make myself a better human being. I wanted full accountability for myself and from my friends and family. Through this journey, I have spent considerable amount of time trying to understand what aspects of me are genuine and which aspects of me I have added because I am compensating for someone or something.

Today, as I stepped out of that courthouse I was blasted with a cold March wind, but it was the knowledge that I am on the right path that struck me swifter. As I walked down the street, hair in my eyes, face turning red with the bite of the wind and my arms tucked closely to stifle the heat from leaving my body, my coattails flapped in the wind behind me but it was as if they were waiving goodbye to something. Turning a page. Ending a chapter. Finally free to move on.

Tonight I let go of any grudge I have held. I spit out all the grit that I've reluctantly chewed. I absolve myself from all of pain that I have blended with cheap scotch. I disarm all of the blame I have allowed myself to carry. I surrender to the idea that the rest of my life is mine to write. Then, I succumb to the feelings that I could never face; I am my own.

Tonight I breathed a reluctant sigh for the manner in which I decided to help write that last chapter. But before that breath could completely leave my lungs, I shed a tear for how beautiful that next chapter will be written.