Neglect Heals All Wounds

You know that feeling you get where you're absolutely sick to your stomach when you think of someone? Just the image of their face in your mind makes you want to throw up.

But the problem is ... it's nothing they did. It's what you did to them. It's how you mistreated them when you thought they would be there forever. And now they're gone. And you loathe them, but in reality, you hate yourself but they act as a placeholder, the manifestation of your undeniable and relentless guilt. It's easier to hate someone you don't have to see everyday than it is to hate the person you see in the mirror.

Time for my winter anthem.

 Well, it's starting to get cold outside and the days are growing shorter. The world is at a loss for colour. I guess it's about time I pretend to be socially awkward and use the Internet to comfort myself. Hang in there with me. My almost-impossibly positive view of the world will be back soon. My life is fantastic. I just want to feel passionate for a moment.

I'm a man of extremes. If you know me, it's easy to see. The way I workout. The things I eat and drink. The music I listen to. Hell, the way walk upstairs could be construed as extreme. So, it's no surprise that my interpersonal fights are crazy and my reconciliations are just as ridiculous.

I live for passion. Not just romantic, either. I need it in many different realms. I've even contemplated asking my girlfriend to pick a fight with me about something so I could say I'm sorry in beautiful ways. I need those ups and downs. Call it me being a sociopath. Blame it on my past. It's what I thrive on.

But there are certain situations in which extremes don't work, and I've found myself in one. Everything we do is a lesson, but much like school, you may not learn what you were supposed to until the final exam is over.

Right now, I'm taking the test and I don't know the answer. In fact, the way I deal with it is to turn the paper over, leave it blank and act as if though it never existed. 

However, I've learned something along the way.

We need to tell the people we Love that we Love them. It's so simple. So easy and we overlook it. It's so overlooked that people may respond in an awkward manner. Don't let it be awkward. You care about someone deeply. You have their back. You're hurt if they're hurt. You Love them.

I Love you.

You never know when that simple phrase will hit a person. Or when that phrase will miss a person. There's a friend out there right now that I care for deeply, but I can't say I Love them. I can't. I can't bear the shame for how I've treated them. My actions have reflected something other than Love. My actions were a lie. They were a mistake.

Would I take it back? No. Because it's caused me to learn. 

While I'll more than likely fail this exam, I've learned for next time. I've reached out to a few people already. People I Love. People who should hear it. Sometimes it's hard to separate Love from romance, but the two can be mutually exclusive.

Because you're no longer here with me, I have to say that I Love you. My actions didn't reflect Love, but my intentions did. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to ignore you. I never meant to have you leave my life. My apologies for my extreme behavior. It's just who I am and I'm working on it. 

Nothing would be better than speaking these words to someone you lost. Maybe after a few drinks so you can really let your emotions loose. So you can say what you truly want without shame. Face-to-face. Not behind a cell phone or a laptop. Not in a letter. Through true-to-life words. Spoken on your bedroom floor behind closed doors.

Words that can bring a tear of both pain and happiness at the same time.  

Go out and tell someone you Love them. For all those who lost their chance. 

I Love you, friend. 

 <3

Nobody Gives You a Chance; You've Got to Take Them

At the end of May 2013, I had no idea what my life would come to be. For the first time in my life, I did not have a concrete plan.
I graduated. I had a temporary part-time position lined up at the end of summer, but that was about it. That job was in Columbus and my Bowling Green lease was up at the end of May, so I had two options: head home to Fostoria and possibly ditch my chances of getting out or blindly go south to Columbus and pray for the best.

I chose the latter.

June 1, I packed my car with the few things that I needed. I had taken to Craigslist to find a roommate and I found three suitable ones. My whole Craigslist experience will wait for another blog; just know that some of the options were terrifying.

On my way down. On my own.

At this time, I had nothing but emotional support. Honestly, all I realistically need is 99 percent emotional help, but that 1 percent of material safety helps me a lot. I went to the first two apartments and they were awful and far out of my price range and away from where I would be working temporarily.

The final apartment was leased by a Godsend named Maggie. The circumstances were perfect and I took the plunge. I was ready to sign, but they wanted to make sure I wasn't a complete sociopath; rightfully so.

I slept on the floor of a friend's house that night. Terrified. What was my life to become? I recall shaking from nervousness. I had every cent counted up in my head that I had to my name. I knew I had to get a job immediately. I couldn't wait around.

I applied for a cashier position at Kroger at 9 p.m. and was offered the job 12 hours later. I was then alerted that I could move into the apartment soon. I'll forever be jaded because, in my first two nights in a big city, I found a job and an apartment. (My time at Kroger, a service job, will be a blog for a later date as well.)

However, I had to go through the orientation process at the new-found job and I had to get settled into the apartment. I layed there, on the floor, scared again. I needed to do something productive and we lacked Internet, so I went for a run.

Hear what drove me.

I plugged into Bring Me The Horizon's new album and just ran. And ran. It was 90+ degrees and I was in all black, but I just kept running. In my head, I was panicking. Where am I going to end up? I have nothing planned. I'm so scared and I know no one down here. In four months, will I be screwed? My unknown running path reflective of my life.

I found myself back home and created a plan. A list. On it were five goals. Get a full-time job. Save $10k. Read a book. Find a Columbus best friend. Get down to 160 lbs.

Well, I've completed 4/5 of those goals already, and let's just say I'm still reading the book.

I was offered full-time at the same job I interned with and worked with over summer. I am eternally grateful for the opportunity and I am sure that I will flourish, personally and professionally. (A blog about job openness is sure to follow at some point.)

What I'll miss the most from the old place.

After some personal events, I decided to move in with my wonderful girlfriend, Sarah, in a two bedroom place on the other side of Columbus.

But before I moved out of my first Columbus apartment, I went for one final run, with BMTH's Sempiternal in my ears once again.

My mind was calm. I knew what I was doing. There was a plan - a great one! I'm owning life. I took a chance and it paid off. Three-four months earlier,  I was shaking with fear and anxiety, but now, I was calm. Striding along the exact path I ran previously when I had more doubts than prayers.

Thank you to everyone who has taken a chance on me. I know I'm worth it and I'm so thankful you thought I was as well.