Happy Monday, guerrillas! I have left you the last two weeks, and for that I must apologize. I spent some time house/dogsitting for friends, furthering my liver's training (some call it alcoholism, I try not to nitpick) and trying not to melt in this summer heat.
What I did accomplish during this time was a lot of thinking. It's the one of the few things including your circulatory and respiratory systems we do involuntarily, even while sleeping. The mind continues to wander even in your subconscious state, and over the last weeks, my brain has been writing a letter.
This is a "Dear John" letter to any and all it may concern. I'm not saying goodbye to anyone person in particular, I am more saying goodbye to the feelings I have shared with a few. This is me cleansing my soul of the weight of these feelings. Over the past 10 years I have shared my mind, heart and sometimes bed with a few select people. Some of these amazing people have been girlfriends, some have been flings. Some might have been just a collection of amazing conversations or a collection of text, emails or other correspondence. I don't wish to say farewell to any of you, but the mere thought of you, all of you, runs through my mind more than most would expect, and I can't let it go unaddressed for any longer.
I'm So Bad With Goodbyes
It's 3 AM Sunday evening. Sitting on the edge of my bed, head sunk in between tired shoulders. The scent of smoldering ash, the warm sensation of a burning cigarette diminishing in my fingertips. The soft glow of a television screen, laugh tracks echoing throughout the room, the stacked laughter of the dead my only comfort. The gentle hum of the air conditioner filling the space between the scripted lines and the giggling. An allegory for my mind; as instincts of sleep and the impulses of insomnia turn my brain into a battlefield, the space between the synapses are consumed by you.
You are where my mind wonders in the dark. The light shining beyond the veil of my apprehension. You are where my mind drifts to in the calm sea of indifference. The buoy balancing in the wake of my desires. I am appalled by my own inconsistencies, but it speaks true to my ever expanding heart. I can't get you off of my mind. Any of you.
Its never one. One could be managed. One can be compartmentalized and tucked away deep in the recesses of my mind. There are too many, so many beautiful people that have entered my life. Too many angels that have left imprints that I can never ignore. You all mean more to me than you would ever allow yourself to believe, and I cannot go a day without something as simple as a thought of you does not run through my mind.
It's 3 AM, and my mind wishes to remind me of every nick and scratch on the armor that my heart wears. The girl I had a crush on in middle school. My first girlfriend freshman year. The girl way out of my league I urged up the courage to ask out senior year. My prom date. The girl from the bukkake film I starred in.
I remember them all, all of the time (especially the last one, that's an interesting memory). I feel like that estranged friends and past loves or recent crushes think I could give a shit less and my mind wanders to the dozens of other people trying to occupy my time, but they wouldn't be more wrong. I carry this sense of discontent that I cannot be more to more people. This is not a farewell, but more me recognizing my feelings and vocalizing them in hopes of personal retribution. You all mean so much to me;
- To the ex I dated, loved, lived with and tolerated, a day doesn't go by that I don't think of you.
- To the friend I had the luxury of benefiting from that aside initial apprehension, we both at some point wanted to grow into more before you decided you didn't feel the same way, I think about you more than I wish.
- To the rad girl too pretty and pure for this world that I could watch Star Wars with and could always make me smile, and now I must act like it I don't miss your skin, you cross my mind always.
- The amazing friend I made over social media sites that lead to hours of late night phone conversations, I miss the sound of your voice.
- The beautiful girl from across the bridge that would hang out with me and let me awkwardly sit close to you and make fun of horror movies, I miss that time I kissed you.
- To the gypsy girl of West Philly and our date nights at the theaters, I miss your infectious smile.
- To the fling from New Hope, I miss the fun and wild times.
- The cute girl who orders that same drink when I worked the bar, your personality excited me, and I enjoyed the fun we had and miss the times since I haven't been working there as much.
- The high school friend that I always had a soft spot for, the times we spent together mean so much to me, even if I was an asshole that didn't call back, I think it about it all the time.
- The perfect one from out of state I wouldn't dare pursue, I crush on you hard, and think about it more than someone should
- My most recent ex even. Listening to pop music now makes me think to times I sent DMs you never have nor ever will respond to. "Hello from the other side, at least I know that I tried to tell you I'm sorry for breaking you heart."
Maybe it's more because my own heart is broken, maybe I'm an ego-maniacal vagabond with tendencies akin to a sociopath that does things of this nature in a wild guilt ridden sense of attempting to gain absolution. Or maybe I just genuinely have an overflowing heart that inundates my world with emotions that I need to scoop out with a bucket to empty out the vessel known as my psyche before I drown in my own lament.
There are so many that I didn't list, and if any girl that is reading
this has to stop and think if they fit the bill of who I am addressing,
you most likely already do. So many crushes I have on the beautiful
specimens of the world. Looking through your profile pictures and
Instagram accounts. The girl who messages me and the girl I send a
message to, what does that smiley face mean? Should I tell her I think
she's pretty, should I ask her out for drinks, should I ask her what
sounds she makes when she's
really excited and tell her how badly
I want to find out? I'm an over thinker, I'm not sure. My heart is on
my sleeve, and I can hopelessly romanticize almost anything or any
moment.
I cannot lie, some of you I harbor just the slightest bit of resentment for. Girls who told me they loved me to two weeks later tell me they don't feel the same. Girls who loved to hang out with me, or loved to have sex with me, but weren't okay with dating me. You know who you are, and it sickens me that I am supposed to be the guy, the rough and tumble man in that situation. Forced and expected to act that things like that don't bother him. To save face in spite of his heart being stepped on.
But also the flip side of that coin, I have been the asshole that have had girls tell me they wanted to be more or could totally see themselves being in a relationship with and I stopped calling or texting back. Or a time when I literally stopped answering my phone because I wasn't sure of the future of what we were, and as stated before,
I'm so bad with goodbyes. I am no saint in this story, I have been on both sides of this discussion; asshole guy
and heartbroken loser.
Please don't confuse my words with juvenile and love struck sentiment, though. I am an adult, and as much as I am shouting into the void, do not take these ambiguities as a VagueBook emotional farce. I live my life, and go on everyday, I do not harp on nor let my feelings for love gone past hinder my life, nor does it create an overemotional mess that makes it impossible for me to function in relationship scenarios. Oh, quite the contrary to be exact. In spite of all of these feelings that pass through my mind, I have developed an understanding of my heart, and have created a way for me to enjoy the simplicity of life and love without losing who I am in the process by investing large portions of emotions into every interaction I make. There are amazing and beautiful people everywhere, and those that I may talk too I wish nothing but happiness and contention for them all.
I want to be a friend and a person that can enjoy their time around, and frankly, yes, I would fuck your brains out, but if you're not interested, that's fantastic! I love having friends and people to enjoy, it matters not if you want to have sex, but we're adults, if having sex is on the menu it's never something that I would turn away from.. I want to make out with almost all my friends, you beautiful fucking creatures. Those who cry about the friend zone because they feel they're owed something by giving out friendship (something that every fucking human being should give without expecting a return) are fucking children. Shave your neck beard and man the fuck up, the friend zone doesn't exist, you're just pathetic.
I digress, this letter is me saying goodbye to the times we had, I wish that the times could continue. In some senses they will, many of the girls mentioned previously are still good friends of mine, some don't speak to me and I can respect that. Relationships are hard and the cloudy ambiguity of texting and all of the tone that is lost within it has made communication something of problem in today's society. Huh, ironic how tools that help us communicate with the world at faster and faster rates also creates a schism when dealing personal communication. Be bold, be honest, the worst people will say to you is no. Obviously a pinch of charm, a dash a wit, and a sprinkling of rugged good looks never hurts (it works for me at least), but go out there and make connections. Make new friends. Fuck their brains out if that's their thing, or just share some good times over some drinks and karaoke, I don't know, whatever it is you kids enjoy these days.
To every girl I ever shared a long stare with, made laugh at a bad pun or shared an evening with. To the ones whose hand I held, whose cheek I kissed and whose night I made, I miss you, and at 3 AM when the dust settles on the day and the dawn begins to bring anew, remember, you will be on mind. I'm so bad with goodbyes, so I'll just say later days.
Reese Dunlap
