(I have all these posts planned and queued, but things keep moving me to write about other stuff.)
A long time ago, I went on an OKC date with a guy. He was really quite different from me, and I don’t know that I’d have gone out with him if someone had said hey I have a single friend and described him to me. But we did go out. We had a great date. Seriously. I think it was the last great date I had before the project. Total chemistry, physical, mental, conversational. Some of this might have been because I was still depressed at the time and latching on to whatever positives I could find and building it up, but still there was enough there to qualify as a really good date.
This guy had a blog and he told me about it, so I started following it. Unfortunately he was severely flaky and we basically lost contact in a week. He didn’t post much on the blog either. Suddenly, a few months ago he started posting, a flurry of heartbroken posts about lost love and dealing with things and so on. Being the horrible voyeur that I am I read them avidly and have now pieced together what has happened to him over the past two years.
The reason why I’m suddenly talking about him here is that he posted something today that really resonated with me. It was just one word at the end of a post about how he has lost all his potential and wasted his life.
I have some life left in me. Not much but some. And I want to make it all count. Every last breath.
I can’t be a has been or a never was. I want to be counted as an entity which mattered to the lives that I touched.
And its not just work. It’s life. It’s love. Fuck it. I’m an old world, impractical romantic. But that’s what I want as a token of having done something right in life.
It made me wonder why we spend so much time telling ourselves in this modern world that love is not a priority. Why do we feel the need to stress and underline that a life without love is the life to hold on to–love is an afterthought? Why did everyone tell me, for years, that I was foolish and silly to want love and I should focus on a career instead?
I’m not saying everyone needs to become Devdas or anything like that, but it’s true that there is pressure to deny that you want love. Sure, everyone doesn’t want it, but some people certainly do. God forbid you admit to it though. This same guy, when I met him, would have pulled out his hair with tweezers before making this admission, and it seems like he had to go to hell and back before he could say it out loud.
The value of your life in today’s world seems to only be counted by the stamps on your passport, the medals on your chest, the money in your bank and the house you live in. People forget the meaning derived from the friends you stay in with, the people you laugh with, the happiness and sadness you find in the lives you touch and the lives that touch yours. I remember tearfully telling my parents once that of course I have talnts and my life has value; there are so many people who love me and whom I love. It doesn’t matter if I don’t have a career path or get promotions. I add value to lives–just not the way people assume you should.
I can’t help but wonder if those years would have been easier on me if someone had looked at me and said that I did have a full, meaningful life even though I didn’t tick the boxes everyone said I should; that I had a valid dream, a legitimate aspiration–I wonder if my life would have turned out different.
Okay, sorry this turned out a lot more maudlin than anticipated!