What do you see when you see me? Do you just see the outside? Or can you see my heart? Do you see the guy that dreams of a better life, or just dreams of having what many take for granted? Can you see just a white guy or can you see my true heritage? Can you see a believer or do you just see one who has sinned? Do you see the guy who dreamed of knowing who he is or can you just see where I am now? Do you see the guy who hurts when he hears someone talking down to someone because of their name or the color of their skin? Do you see the broken heart that is broke from the loss of someone that he has never known?
To be honest, I don’t know why I’m writing this. I don’t know if anyone but me will ever read this. I guess I just have to get it out of my system. I would have to say that I’m heartbroken. The sister that I care so deeply for died in a fluke motorcycle accident by some punk kid. My only living grand pa died when I was only three. The other died when my father was only fourteen. One who was like a sister my niece who was six months older than me died in 1986 in a trailer fire. She was one of my truly best friends.
Just the other day I was thinking of how she would have grown up and if she had children. Would they have the same zeal for life that their mother did? I always laugh and say that I was an uncle before I was born, but every time I say it my heart breaks from the loss that still brings tears to my eyes. You know usually I try to write stories that make me feel good, but sometimes the truth can help. Sometimes truth can heal and sometimes, most of the time truth can cut like a cold dull knife pearsing your soul.
I guess this is therapeutic. I guess this is good for the soul and I guess all this is self centered. I guess I know that this won’t change anything, but life is funny and life is sad.
We all have our broken hearts, even the ones that no one knows about but ourselves. Whether its heart break from lose of a loved one or an unrequited love. We all wonder what our life would be like if we had stepped up and faced our fears. What would life have been like if I told the girl that still haunts my heart that I loved her? Would she have let me down gentle or would she have returned my feelings. I will never know. She did tell me that she loved me, but was it because she was one of the best friends I will ever have or did she share the longing to tell me what I so wanted to tell her? She was the only girl that I ever felt my heart beat for, but she was the one I couldn’t tell.
I often wonder if I was born a different person, would I still be me. I don’t think so. As crazy as my family can be they are still part of me. After all we share a foundation, we share life experiences we share the pain of the same loss and the joy of the same triumphs.
There are a few things that I know. I know my daddy loves me and I know my momma loves me. There is a lot that I don’t know. Will I ever find someone to call my own or will it just be me for the duration. Forever bound for a table of one.
Slàn leat!
(Goodbye! Farewell!)
