A Miss Is As Good as a Mile


For months, I’ve been doing my best to stop missing someone and caring about them. And I keep falling short in my emotion. Today was worse as I woke up feeling incredibly dejected. I don’t know what that emanates from, but I’m thinking it’s just a culmination of feelings I’ve thought were best to bottle and cap. Or maybe it’s all the nostalgia about American Idol ending and how I met so many of my best friends through that show. (Seriously, it was life-changing for me!) Though, to be frank, I actually believe it’s much more deeper than just one show…

If anything, these “sad feels” picked up on sentiments that have been floating on and off for about a week. Sentiments about people I miss and love. And always will. Sentiments about the boy.

Now the whole day since I woke up, I’ve been thinking about my late friend, Michael Johns. What a talent he was. And as Idol ended Thursday night, it was truly the end of an era. It made me think about everything Michael was to so many of us, and what he meant to me. I also keep in mind what he told me about relationships. In a very big brother sort of fashion, Michael gave good relationship advice. And today, as I pressed my feet into the carpet as I shuffled out of bed this morning to continue the monotonous routine of my daily life, I remembered what he told me about B when I first met befriended him in 2009. (Yes, that’s right—he knew about B. He also thought B was either an Abercrombie model with that chiseled jaw and Roman nose he had, or some old married fart who was cat-fishing me, haha!)

Anyway, I thought about what my late friend told me because I had a dream of B last night. And while parts of me were happy seeing B in this dream, I woke up feeling incredibly despondent. We were talking on the docks of New Buffalo’s Municipal Marina, a place he would call “our spot” and things just seemed normal. Well, at first. There came a point where we started arguing and I started crying. Of course, even in dreams, B has no compassion so he left after planting a kiss on my forehead. Since waking up, I’ve been emulating the weather, foggy, overcast and gray. I may be stronger than her because let’s face it, she’s an oddity of fatuousness and self-righteous self-denial, but I am entitled to feeling sad. Just like she’s entitled to being proud to be having narrow-minded mentalities.

It’s weird, right? When you miss someone so purely and innocently, the world feels genuinely empty. It seems in my own life, no man will ever be what B is to me. A fullness in proportion to my soul, a muse, a wonder, a passion that sparks creativity, and ignition to the road ahead, someone who I’ll love till I get that chance to breathe one final breath.

Sure, I get so mad thinking about B sometimes because I’m not suppose to care for him or miss him. But I thought that I could stop loving him months ago. I really tried and kept running with the emotions in my head, dispelling its truth but realized, since it all happened, I love him a thousand fold more. Every day since I knew B, I’ve only ever adored him more and more. Whether it was candid discussions about his family, his upbringing, things he would tell me that made me realize how much of an intellectual he was, how he made me learn something new from every discussion. What’s not to love about him. Yes, he was mean to me and incredibly cold, but I know where that attitude stemmed from. And I also know the moments only we shared hidden away from others were of meaning to both of us, even if he denies it. He will.

I also know every time I wear that thin blue line wristband on my small wrist, I’m going to think of him and that last night we shared together. He has his reminders and I have mine. I’m going to think about how sweet he was to me, how kind he was, how he took care of my every need and those words he said were of meaning. He might deny the context today, but that’s only because of his personal fears. It’s sad how scared he is to confront such emotion. When you’re accustomed to denial though and live with it as a norm, it becomes a part of your social fabric.

It’s a little weird. Sometimes I fall short on how to describe these feelings I have for B and realize it’s never going to really end. And oddly enough, I might always write about him. It might be hard to process in words some days and I might take weeks to really come up with something of substance about this guy and relate it to life and the cycles of living, but I know he’s someone I want to continue painting. He has meant so much to me. He’s been the reason behind my drive and I don’t give a shit if he doesn’t care, but he matters to me. I love him that much to revere that love I have for him and channel it into something of meaning.

And sure, B can abhor and fight me on it, but our relationship was bright and colorful once. It brought him confidence, that much I know. And it always, consistently remained as a testament to my strength from the push and pull of his insecurities. But, between all the colors that B emits and is, they fuse sometimes and blend into one giant color, and that’s when I can’t decipher thoughts in the tangible form of what a great love he has been to me. And some days, from everything we went through together, I don’t want to misjudge his heart. He might do it often, but I won’t. And like I told him in September, these will be bookmarks.

Going back to Michael, he was amazing. Like, God Almighty, that boy could sing and was the kindest soul  you could ever meet. Hilarious and funny, and I love him. I miss him a lot. I was texting with my girlfriends tonight, my best friends, and we all said the same thing. We love him and miss him, and will never forget him. When I interviewed Michael in 2012, he shared some personal relationship advice with me, but the part that got published was this bit:

“When you’re in your 20s, you think you know but in most cases, [you] don’t. I think people who get married too young, often I’ve found end up unhappy. Now some of the lucky ones at any age get to be with their true soul mate – 25, 35, 65, it doesn’t matter what age. Unfortunately for most, they don’t. I think sometimes people are so scared to say [they’re] unhappy and stay in negative relationships for fear of hurting someone or being alone or [for] the kids. There’s no perfect road map. You just got to follow your heart and try and be the best person you can.”

When I think about B, Michael was right about him. But in the case of B, trying to be the best person he can be, that doesn’t also mean compromising happiness. Something he will do to maintain white picket fences or “Keeping up with the Joneses” just to emulate what his friends have that he lacks. The thing is, in life, you reap what you sow. While I was and am genuine in my affection for B, if B intentionally spun two hearts for his own pleasure, he will reap what he sows too. And if anything, he will truly get what he deserves, whether it be positive or negative.

In 2010, I got a reading and while I will never reveal the fine details of that reading (B knows some of it and perhaps that would explain his actions), all I can do is continue loving him. Loving him until the lessons are learned for both of us because life is karmic reaction and life is what it will be. Everyone will get what they deserve and we are catalysts for each other, driving the other to the brink in some way. Consider dropping a pebble on the near side of a glass and you will notice ripples bouncing back from the edge, striving for equilibrium.

We are all striving for balance. We don’t always get what we want in life and that’s a fact. Like, you can tell me to be positive, get over him, yada yada, whatever. But consider it sometimes a stroke of luck for the time being if you don’t get what you think you deserve. I may not deserve him or maybe, he doesn’t deserve me. Yeah, let’s put it that way. But maybe it’s the grand scheme of life and like the readings stated, we each haven’t really learned our lesson to get to the next stage.


One comment

  1. He cares about you a lot. No one spends that much time with a person and doesn’t. That much you know, T.

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