A few revelations that I want to one day turn into a poem, when my mind can function at peak capacity again.
I've had these thoughts before. At 34, in a male-dominated career, in a young man's world, I think I have experienced the great loves of my life now. When I was younger, unbroken, with how emotional I used to be, I loved intensely. My love was always burning. From my most angry or most lusty, my love was intense and full. I have four great loves, and that's more than some. Names will mean nothing here, so... Each had their own personality. There own thing that made them great. That made them people who would only have their own space in my heart. Katrina, Grace, Andrea, Erin. And if I'm being honest, and why the hell not: Donald. An old best friend. Because who says loves have to be sexual... Only me, I guess. They try to tell you but it doesn't click: you never forget your loves. Just like how adulthood is something you grow into. There's no moment where you realize you're an adult. We're all just children trying to pick the right next step like we've been doing since high school. Only our hormones have tanked, and we're not always near new and available people. But I degress.
At first I feel regret. Despair. Depression. I do suffer from that last, though I've refused to seek help thus far. Because, of course, what are you depressed about? Ha. Wouldn't you like to know. Anyway. I degress. I still have more than half my life left to me. Assuming I don't die in combat or something else related to preparation for it. The thought of spending that time alone is crushing sometimes. I think the longest I've been single is 2 or so years, and that was painful, though again I was quite a lot younger than I am now. I've tried to bury myself in my career, or what my career will one day be, but it's not always easy. Can I do that through to being an old man?
But even if I don't have that choice, I *do* have a lot to be thankful for. I will never be "over" these loves. Everyone I deeply love get their own place in my heart. I was, however, never given the knowledge of how many places I get. As though I'd want to know. Beyond that, the simple fact that I've had so many great, great loves is insane! I've never been one for longevity, eh? I've given up on women that today are perfect wives. Not many, mind you. I've been crushed more often than I've done the crushing. And I'm so happy for them! That's it! Even if my loves are done, I'm grateful for having had those loves. Their memory cannot be tarnished. I'm adult enough, and frankly my mother has informed me enough, to know that the women I loved is not the women they are today. Particularly in Erin's case, but that's another entry and another mood. A worse mood that I hope I never return to. I'm getting close to an email to her (because, of course, I still remember her email). As closure, of course. Forgiving her for my own needs. For how she went about the end. But again, that's another entry. Clearly the sentiment I'm aiming for here isn't complete. I'm still in Paragraph Number 2. And I guess that's okay. I'm not 80 something yet. I don't know anymore if I hope to see 80. Something else though.
I am happy for these past loves, both the people and the memories. I can't complain for how amazing they were. In a lifetime spent wishing I could see other times and other people, these five I wouldn't change for anything. Even if I'm alone forevermore. There's a Nothing More song that says, "If I were God, just for a day, I would be guilty of letting the whole world slip away (If I Were, Nothing More."
I'll leave this one there.