Growing Through Inspiration

June 13, 2023

     Another 365 loops around the sun brings on yet another birthday. Unlike others in recent memory, this one has been a wild ride to say the least. From medical procedures, a surgery, a lost love, battling my own demons over morality and kindness, to seeking forgiveness for something that wasn’t my fault, accepting narcissism was real, jealousy, anger and top it all off with a broken heart, I’ve faced each and every one this past year. Most likely some others that I’ve missed. Unlike multitasking, these battles have taken their toll on my mental well-being. And thanks, are in order to those that I’ve reached out to and have offered help. You know who you are. Thank you. You’ve made the anguish and pain bearable in a loving way.

     I was going to title this “It’s my party and I can cry if I want,” with the song attached. Instead, I’ll attach a favorite of mine because I now have ‘Faith of the Heart.’

     What brought this piece to fruition, was a 3:30 AM text barrage with one of my inspirations, Churchgoer. It wasn’t so early for her being on the West Coast as opposed to my Eastern Standard Time, but she helped put things into perspective. And although I had contemplated this for some time and had even been encouraged by someone very special to me to write it, without her input it wouldn’t be headed in any direction at all.

     Churchgoer and I have been friends for quite some time. One of the very first persons I met on a fledgling thing called ‘social media.’ As I’ve dubbed her nickname, you’d be correct in assuming we met on a Christian site. Yes, I was in there and have a lot of other stories in my life you’d be surprised at as well. All for another day and another blog.

     “Seriously still remember the gruff aunty posting baby pictures proud as could be,” I texted after she sent me a graduation notice for her nephew. I had seen him grow up throughout the years and he’s turned into a fine young man and someone I’m very proud of. 

     However, I should’ve sensed it coming before her reply hit my cell “Gruff?”

     “Gruff” had opened the proverbial can of worms. I knew she was having fun with me, yet she is that ‘gruff’ to make me think and talk my way out of it. Thus, here I am, attempting to take ‘gruff’ into the world of love. 

     I replied to her text “Yup, you were gruff…always in charge…the protector.” And then I get her famous “Good Grief.” Then “Gruff……….,” came back once more. Now I’m thinking how many ……….’s are there, before I answered. “Refused to get rejected so kept quiet…(I use three) story of my life but couldn’t have asked for a better friend…strange how life works out…same situation different person, I open up and poof they’re gone (Skywalker)…didn’t dawn on me till just now.”

     I had wanted to date Churchgoer from the onset of our meeting, in the early 2000’s, but never said a word. Yet, twenty years later, we’re still friends. Where the later (Skywalker) and I haven’t spoken since February, after I did tell her.

     I had told Churchgoer a few years back that’s what my original intentions were. I sensed a bit of surprise, but then again maybe not that much. “Interesting, isn’t it?” I continued texting. “Looking back, I’d like to think we would have still been friends if I had told you.” “I’m sure we would,” she responded. “I’m sure we might have been more, because I was active in church, but not an elder.” 

     One to never let me off the hook, it came again, “You called me gruff!” “Yes gruff,” I answered again. “I was scared stiff to tell you I was interested” Church women do that to me. Fear arises. I believe in God, His Son and the Holy Ghost. I just don’t believe in church. Too many are fake. For profit. And my most despised are the politically connected ones. While Skywalker wasn’t. We never talked religion. Maybe a mention of 45 every now and again. But even politics were avoided, while we are both, best described, as liberals. 

   By changing the script and telling someone that I was interested, I give you Skywalker. Another friendship, but this one was different. I wasn’t interested in a relationship when we met. Too much was going on in the world. Covid for example. My health, too. I didn’t want to involve anyone in my health issues. I have too many. Friends are good. That’s all I needed. I was content in my life. I was happy being me. But things had changed. My feelings for her changed. I had fallen in love and never said a word, again.

     Love had stuck its ugly self into the equation, as she was single now. A short while afterwards, I was hospitalized for colon surgery and the phone in my room rings. I didn’t need to hear her formally introduce herself the way she did. I heard that voice a million times. I knew exactually who it was. Any pain I was in, was gone. But was I floating because of the meds or the call? Yes, it was her.

     We began exchanging gifts that year for holidays, birthdays and some random acts of kindness. Life was good. I had someone who cared. That I didn’t need to become attached to. Selfish of me? Probably. We never talked about it. I never mentioned it. She never brought it up. Thought it was an unspoken, mutual understanding. Forever friends.

     I mailed her a Love Pop Butterfly Card (read my three-part Boston ’22 trip blog) as a sign of my gratitude for everything she inspired me to be. Yet even today I don’t know if she understood it’s true meaning, because she had already left before that blogs publication.

Shortly after Valentines Day, this year, things turned south between us. Her unwillingness to be open and forward while my jealousy and selfishness doomed us both, most likely, of the best friend either of us had ever had.

     I’ve come to the realization the word ‘appreciate’ in any way, shape or form is merely a rich mans ‘thank you.’ What it means to them is that they ‘Deserve it, not you.’ You get what they give you. Nothing more, nothing less. What appreciation is there in that?

     You owe nothing to anyone but yourself. I’d rather hear a ‘Thank you,’ ‘I care for you,’ “I love you,’ or even an honest ‘I’m not interested in you.’ Don’t say ‘I appreciate you; your time and your gifts,’ like she did before she vanished without as much as an explanation, not long after I had finally told her I loved her. She loved someone else. And had been in love for quite some time. The Family Thanksgiving Photo is all I need say, easily available. He is there as is his son. Yet she was not a friend enough to even discuss it. That same Thanksgiving, she messages me and wishes me the happiest, while reposting a picture I had sent that very day. 

     No friendship. No closure. No goodbye. No nothing. Definitely, no appreciation in that. I hadn’t realized how much alike we were, until she used, nearly, verbatim my opening here in the one and only dispute we had over our timespan. 

Casey, I Would’ve Love You Anyway

     Like I had mentioned earlier, there were no closure between us. And if you know me in the slightest, you know I need closure. She offered none. Even after I tried talking to her and asked, ‘How can we fix this?’

     So, this is mine. My closure, yet an open door for her to still have a friend when she needs one. Nothing more, nothing less. I was raised on kindness, gratitude and my word. I told her once; as a friend, I’d love her more than anyone through thick or thin. I keep my word, as friendship is love.

     It could’ve ended better. It should’ve ended better. She could’ve told me long before but hadn’t. I could’ve asked sooner, or so she said. And how was I to ask sooner if, at that time, I hadn’t a clue. I fought over the narcissism of it all. Still do. Constantly, I think can someone you’ve known that long flip overnight? There were no signs in the years leading up of such a character flaw, she just wasn’t open enough. I had even offered to go my own way seven months prior, because things were growing quiet. But she wanted me to stay. I did. Why couldn’t you have just let me go, I ask now? You were with him already, probably by the Valentines before. 

     People hid behind covid lockdowns seeking friendships without thinking of the aftermath. I believe this was partly the cause. I’m not angry. Frustrated and hurt at first, yes, because I thought it was my fault. Because she thought it was my fault, and in as few words possible, had told me so. More narcissism. I apologized in ‘Queens Gambit,’ another writing of mine but still no sign. 

     Four months have passed. We’ve both had time to process it and move on. It’s only logical. But not all humans are logical, just ask Mr. Spock. Or why else would Luke have run off when Leia (Star Wars connotation) needed him the most? Or worse yet, why would anyone vote for 45? There is no logic to such madness. By no means am I suggesting she’s mad, quite the opposite. Calculating better describes her.

     I’ve cried many of times since February over her loss. But what cheers me up is remembering the things she gave me. Not the material things. Life building tools. Inspiration. Joy. Happiness. Adventure. Things I’ve known since childhood but had long since forgotten or packed in the back half of my mind. In those, there is still love. Always will be love. Never forgotten.

     If by chance you’re reading this (you spy, I spy…we both know it’s happening…blocking means little to people like us…better to restrict), I do think of our missed Disneyland adventure, with sadness, still wishing it had happened. You would’ve been the perfect host and guide for a first timer like me. However, I’m happy to have taken the good I’ve learned and put it to better use. Most importantly, I hope there’s something you’ve taken from me, or those four years will have been a utter failure for you. Inspiration comes from those who care, given and accepted to those willing to feel and believe. May the force be with you, forever, my friend. You don’t have to stay hidden, as I’ve moved on. 

    Some parting advice, for what it’s worth. My claim to fame will always be, becoming your friend. Remember that daily, when you see the things, I’m achieving because that inspiration came from you. I’ll always be here and hope we can make amends. Remove appreciate from your vocabulary. Words do hurt, as we both know, and I’d hate to see it backfire on you; perhaps with someone you really love. Be open. Don’t hide behind the ‘private‘ wordology. Life is real, as are feelings. Mine were emotionally destroyed and still need healing. By walking away, you made matters worse, yet I forgive you for that, so no need to ever ask. Don’t disavow other’s feelings for your own good. The pain they suffer is all too real, I would’ve rather had another surgery, as that pain heals itself. There’s so much more to say and even to be grateful for, but this is not a tell all. My message window at Facebook will always be open, as is the window here rickollie.com. But I suspect you know that. Feel free to drop a line, it may make us both feel better as I suspect you’re hurting too. It’s grown-up time for us both and although adulting can often be hard, let’s put it to good use. 

Moving Forward

     Now for the part of the story not even Churchgoer knows. I don’t know, if without you, that this would’ve been possible. But there is someone new and we’re on the same page. Have used the ‘love’ word on more occasions than not. And like you, she inspires. She’s a giver. She’s modest and a Christian. Addedly, she encouraged me to write this as well. This story has turned in to a collaboration of you both. My job was to piece it together, much like my heart which was broken. 

     I remember writing this passage ‘Does time really heal? Or do we just forget? I don’t want to forget, but I want to heal’ into ‘Hospital Chronicles Updated Drop the Mic.’ Months later I’ve still no answer and have concluded I may never will.

To My Dear Sweet Lilet

     We know one another’s stories. The sad and the sweet. The truth, the heartbreak, lost and forgotten love. You asked if I had thought about writing of love. But added, “I’m not saying, you write about us.”  

     Sorry, I couldn’t resist. I needed my heart and soul back to give you fully and penning my closure seemed the best way to not only save myself, but our future too. I’ll hide no secrets from you and never keep you hidden in private, like so many do. They don’t need to know all but they need to know you’re here. I’ll never hide our relationship or pretend to be single, because it’s the not morally the right thing to do.

     Your smile lightens up rooms. You’re shy, but inquisitive. Smart, but not arrogant. You feel my hurt and pain yet know the right words to heal. 

     You’re everything I’ve wanted but wasn’t looking for. You giggled when I replied to your question of ‘how much I love you,’ when I said, “A bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck.’ I love your giggles. You’re special, you make me think. You don’t ask for a thing; you just want to be loved. 

Lilet, your song is now my song. I love you!

No, this is not a tell all, either. You’re too shy for that. But I still smile and laugh when I think about my first attempt at playing the violin for you. It was so sad; all we could do was laugh so hard that tears come out. I’ll definitely need more practice.

     Yet the funniest thing came the night I asked what you were having for dinner and you replied, squid. Well squid and octopus to me are one in the same. But not to you and inquired if I liked. Knowing you aren’t much of a hockey fan, I sent a link describing the beginning of our Detroit Red Wings tradition of fans throwing an octopus on the rink. And that I said, are what they are good for. 

     While laughing you corrected me, “squid, hon,” octopuses are “quite small.” To which I say now, someday in the future, you and I will ‘Octopi-Hockeytown’ and maybe you’ll see the delight and joy men on ice, playing a child’s game can bring.

     With today being my birthday, I wanted to put an end to the healing process. To say I’m cured of a failed love attempt and have moved on. But there are too many memories. I know that now, as I’ve continually teared up over the sorrow and the joy each have boughten me while writing this. One thing is for sure, I will not go back and look for love in a place once denied, as I’ve moved on to the most wonderful soul imaginable. Someone, like me. A Gemini as well. Someone I promised not to bring into my limelight quite yet. So please don’t ask for more than I tell. She’ll decide when and you’ll be surprised how true my description of her really is! 

     Now go have a drink and raise it in cheer! 

     Happy Birthday to Me!

Postscript…

God, Irony, Fate and most certainly Karma all exist. I wish the later on no-one. As I finish this up two days before my birthday, my tears are gone, and it has started raining for the first time in three full weeks. All four have intervened to help ease my pain and show the tears a better purpose. 

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