Overstated

Do I have any value left? Sometimes I feel like I am committing fraud with myself.

NM

I am #1 to no one.

Full Disclosure

The past month or so has been pretty hectic and eventful. I'm a quarter-century old now, though I'm not a particular fan of growing old/celebrating birthdays in general. However, I am a fan of growing wiser and learning more, so I suppose there is an upside to it.

For the latter half of May, my one-bedroom apartment also housed three of my best friends who came from out of town for a convention (LOL spinning tops). Having them around, though, has given me a fair bit of perspective. I appreciate them and what they mean to me all that much more because really, that was the first time I really had at least one person over, for an extended period of time, that actually meant something substantial to me (as sad as that is to admit). Now that they're gone, I miss them dearly, and I haven't been quite myself.

Work has been unusually stressful as two of my coworkers have gone on study leave and I was left in charge to finish what they began. It's a lot of hard work and long hours, but at the same time I'm glad that my managers feel they can rely on me to do what it is I do. Sure, I'm stressed out of my mind, and have been losing sleep, but at the same time, I am making my future all that much better.

What is the sense of reward unless you suffer along the way to get there? From education to child birth - from fitness to relationships, the journey is filled with bumps and scars, but it makes the destination all that much more satisfying.

So really, while I may not want to grow old, I want to continually grow up. And I see that I'm still not quite fully there yet. There's so much left that's ahead of me, and I want to experience it all. I am anxious not just to taste the fruits of my labour, but to be able to look back at the end of it all and appreciate the toil it took to get to the harvest.

Commitments

I always enjoyed watching, The Magic School Bus, as I was growing up. Ms. Frizzle's motto of, "taking chances, making mistakes, and getting messy," has been something I put into practice time and time again. In my exploits throughout life, I have learned a lot. Accordingly, I have had my fair share of burns.

Often times I have been at odds with myself. I want to go through many different experiences, but I have grown so tired of paying the price for it. The problem is I know for a fact that there is no reward with zero risk. I can't simply get what I want without consequences.

Relationships with people are definitely the riskiest, but they tend to lead to the most significant rewards. From my experiences with the most intimate kinds of relationships, I've been abandoned, used, abused, tormented, disregarded, dismissed, and have had one case of an abortion.

As such, I liked to have thought that I had been through enough and that gave me enough justification to stop believing in people. Admittedly, what I have been through has been pretty rough, and I wouldn't readily wish it on anyone. However to stop believing would be too easy. Yes, even at times I need to put things in perspective. My own life is still not far from the start line, and I am absolutely in store for future challenges and experiences. There is no easy way out, no matter which way I look at it. No matter which path I take, I'm going to run into something.

So as such, it only feels fair and rational to re-instill some sense of belief that there is an end reward to a seemingly endless supply of hardship. Of course, that's all easier said than done. It's one thing to come to terms with the concept, but unless I put it into practice in my heart, I won't be able to move forward.

I need to challenge myself to have faith once again, and have the resolve to maintain that faith even when people fail me. Let's face it; people aren't perfect, and I can't understand the complete inner workings of one person, let alone everyone. It is unrealistic to believe I'll go through a perfect scenario. I've built up a strong resolve for different scenarios, but I still have ways to go when it comes to a resolve for the important things in life.

It'll be a difficult process, and I'm sure to fall a couple times along the way (read: several), but if I want to get something out of it, I'll keep at it. Maybe I'll surprise myself along the way.

Goodwill

"Comparative Figures" was a look between myself at certain points in my past and how I am now, but in kind of a melancholic perspective. This entry should look at the better changes, as well as the special person that helped make it happen.

As I was growing up, I had skipped a grade in school fairly early, so I was almost always a year younger than the people around me. This became a sociological issue around the time kids started going through puberty before I did. I was always a tall kid, but since I was not going through my physiological growth spurt while everyone else was, my stature diminished significantly in comparison, and I was subject to a fair bit of bullying.

I was a very sensitive child up until then. As such, it made me that much more of an easier target for ridicule and sporadic violent attacks. Over the course of 7th and 8th grade, I became more and more of an angry child.

By the time 9th grade, and thus high school, took place, I was finally beginning to grow, and I shot up past most of the people who used to torment me during elementary. Because of my bitterness, I lashed out and became rather vengeful. As a result, I got into trouble a fair bit, including once or twice with the police. It was also in 9th grade that I met someone pivotal.

Her name was Jessica. She was a beautiful, quirky girl, talented at making me laugh and not feel so angry all the time. We became fast friends and we were soon inseparable in the halls of my school. It was through her that the raging fire within me began to smolder, and I returned to being a more reserved, shy individual.

However, her outgoing, devil-may-care persona caused her to be my diametric opposite, and kept me intrigued with her. Little by little I began to develop strong feelings for her over the course of our friendship, but my timidity and my low self-respect simply would not allow me to say anything. As the school year progressed, my feelings continued to grow stronger.

Near the end of the school year, yearbooks were being distributed. She told me that she would be going to the Catholic school down the road, which meant that we wouldn't be able to spend as much time together as we had in the past. This saddened me a fair bit, and made me more determined to try and reveal my true feelings for her.

However, as we exchanged yearbooks, I still couldn't say it out loud. I looked down at the book that belonged to her, sucked it up, and wrote down everything that I felt for her and what she meant to me. I knew full well that she was going to read it immediately after I handed it back to her. I had never felt so tense before in my life.

When we exchanged them back, I quickly buried my face in my book, not wanting to make eye contact. As I slowly read what she wrote to me, my eyes widened. In her own words, she wrote pretty much the same thing I wrote. I slowly looked up at her, and she slowly did the same. The two of us had cheesy grins on both our faces, and within me this incredible feeling of triumph overwhelmed my being and I felt invincible.

That was the start of a meaningful, four-year relationship, which took me on an incredible journey of memorable moments and discovery. Her personality always seemed to dominate my meek one, and we mostly did things that she wanted (not because she disrespected my opinion - I didn't really have much of one, and I enjoyed her ideas anyway).

It was through my continual interaction with her that I shed many of my failings - my negativity, self-loathing, lack of confidence, and timidity. I came out of my shell more each day because of her. I learned that I can be kind, caring, and compassionate to others - and that became my identity: the protector.

She was also my first in so many ways.

I owe much to Jess. I hope she is well.

Internal Control

No longer can I savour your bittersweet taste
My body continues to reject you
But even if I can get the insulin for this affliction
Are you able to sustain me - to nourish me?

I'm not a kid anymore
And being an adult means not indulging
You're no longer good for me
But I admit to missing how I delighted in you

To have or have not
In the guise of good medicine
I hate you for what you caused
You've made me weary and ill

I hate myself more for missing you
The flavour that sparked against my tongue
And made me grin like a child again
Vulnerable, dependent, and weak

Call me when they find a cure
Hopefully I won't be too far gone by then

Comparative Figures

In the family room of my parents' house, on the glass table beside the couch, sits a small, framed picture. In the picture is the smiling face of an innocent and hopeful 7-year-old boy. To this day, my mother praises this picture, noting how it is the best Mother's Day present she ever received from me.

I have shown this picture to many people over the course of time. The most popular response tends to be, "what happened to him?" The question is asked in jest each time, but I sometimes think about it on a more serious note.

What happened to you, little one? Your imagination was inspiring, and your innocence was refreshing. You wanted to be an artist, a paleontologist, an astronaut, a movie star, and a robot (though not all at the same time). When you were born, you were adored by everyone near you. You were a miracle. You should have died, but you endured. As you grew, people expected amazing things from you.

Those were many winters ago. Am I still that? When did you stop being innocent? When did you stop being so imaginative? Did the burden of the world crush you under its heel, or are you still pushing back up for dear life? Have you smiled that same hopeful smile since?

I gaze upon this photo often as a form of self-reflection. I have come a long way, but has it been in the right direction? Most would agree that I've achieved all I have set my mind to in this world, and some still feel like I have only scratched the surface. I have my own place and car. I am an accountant, like my father before me.

In many ways I want more from myself. My family came from near nothingness - simple farmers and fishermen - to ascend to what they are. That little boy was sheltered and had a lot handed to him to make something out of himself. I am not sated. I want my own ascension. I want to surpass. I want to show others that I can forge greatness with these two hands, which were once so small and unblemished. Only then can I truly be proud of myself. Only then can I face my family with the fullest of confidence to show them that I am worth my weight in the most precious of substances.

While they may love me regardless of how far my reach extends, I will never forgive myself if I cannot demonstrate within me the same qualities that make my family great.

Do you have it in you, little one?