18.2.10

Life Lessons are Hard to Learn

I came as close as I ever have
to seeing my father cry tonight
My sisters don’t respect him
And in discussing this
And how it wasn’t right,
I was reminded,
And I reminded him, that
In a seemingly distant past,
I had acted an ass
That fateful day, when I,

Struck by lover’s lunacy
And clouded eyes, did rise
and take my leave of him,
And cursed his name
For I was young, you see,
And I had no shame.

I thought I could make it,
In fact I gave little thought
To making it.
All I knew was
Happiness for some time
was to be found
In her alone.
And I found no harm
In taking it.

My naivety hadn’t fully
Been challenged yet,
So I was still
A little boy inside.
My self security
Hadn’t developed yet,
So I became
Her little toy to ride.

My family,
And loyalty,
And all the virtues
I once held strong,
Were given a backseat,
And I switched the dial
In search of our song.

My father looked at me,
His eyes quickly got misty red
The whiskey eased his mind,
And this is what he said:

“That day you left…
It tore me up inside
I called your mother
And asked
What should I do?
And I sat here and I cried.
I just want you to know, son,
I was only, as I always do,
Trying my very best to guide you.”

I can never take away
The pain I caused,
Just as I can’t erase
The pain I’ve been through,
But often, I think, pain
Serves as the best teacher,
So you, who I left with,
Who hurt me so,
I want to sincerely say
Thank you,
I am finally letting you go.

8 comments:

  1. this was absolutely beautiful...
    i like the way it flows very much. i agree, it does serve as the best teacher..

    ReplyDelete
  2. I loved that one. A lot.

    But you touched a nerve. :P

    “My naivety hadn’t fully
    Been challenged yet,
    So I was still
    A little boy inside.
    My self security
    Hadn’t developed yet,
    So I became
    Her little toy to ride.”

    That particular paragraph brought me back in high school, when I was exactly that: naive? It brought back a lot of memories and emotions, and some that didn’t feel really good.

    Back at the time you’re referring to in the paragraph, it was like having a clean slate, you know? Nothing written on it, bare...innocent. Then! That clean slate leaves it open to any outside influence to fill it, right? Hopefully, there’s a lot of good put on that slate, but unfortunately, there’s always some bad.

    Or is it fortunately, there’s always some bad? I agree with you on the fact that every experience in our lives shape us into a unique person (here’s the concept again :P). We have bad experiences, we learn from them, we grow, we become. So yeah, I agree whole-heartedly with you on that one.

    “Just as I can’t erase
    The pain I’ve been through,
    But often, I think, pain
    Serves as the best teacher,
    So you, who I left with,
    Who hurt me so,
    I want to sincerely say
    Thank you,
    I am finally letting you go.”

    That last paragraph coupled with the picture—awesome by the way!—was...very very well-written. Saying “thank you” to someone who’s hurt you takes a lot of letting go indeed and also a lot of maturity.

    You can let go of the person, of course, but it’s hard to let go of the deep internal injuries that person has left. For me, there was this one thing in high school that really hurt—it’s a long story and I don’t feel comfortable in having it on any blog—but that’s actually my one exception to the rule that “pain makes you grow as much as love”. It felt unnecessary. It left me so cautious—so damn cautious in relationships—and thirsting for honesty. It happened three years ago and I’ve been over the guy for like two and a half, but I’m still doubting the strength and genuineness of any relationship I develop.

    Isn’t that a pain?!? :P

    If I could go back, that’s the only event in my life that I’d modify...just a little bit.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Beautiful! I'm happy for you. Letting go is a necessary lesson. Inevitably, a painful one to learn.
    xoxo

    ReplyDelete
  4. When you described that used to sit outside with a cup of coffee, while listening to the singing...well, I'd say that's bliss. Or peace. Yeah, it looks just so peaceful.

    I laughed so much about the male cardinals being prettier for once...because I didn't get it: personnally, I think males are always prettier (from my point of view :P)

    And it's okay to touch a nerve once in a while! It's good for me! It makes me stop and think and that's never bad ;)

    I (really) hope your last two questions were rhetorical, because I won't be the one to give you the answers to those...is there really an answer? You can never be 100% sure of the other person, but like I believe you've said before, it's about finding the person you'd risk that security for.

    There's a part of risk associated with every decision that we take. Maybe that's what makes it fun. I think that the "trusting completely" happens after that person has proved he/she is worth trusting, over time. And trust has to be the hardest thing to gain and the easiest thing to lose...Yeah, I think it takes a lot of time and of knowing really the other person to let yourself go at last. But to eliminate the risk of getting in a wrong relationship, I go with the feeling. I've met a lot of people when I started my university course and I could tell who I'd be friends with or want to be friends with, because it felt comfortable around them: no pressure, just comfortable. It just feels right. It just clicks. That's when you know it's going to be easier to let yourself go with these people. And that's what I'm waiting for relationship-wise. The click. (I'm aware that this is looking cheesy :P) But I don't know: similar interests and ways of thinking, knowing that you can talk to someone about ANYTHING without having the other wondering which planet you really come from...that's the "click" I'm looking for. (and probably will be looking for in the next couple of centuries since it seems like I'm waiting for a lot in a person:P)

    And, you're right: life is no fairytale...but it's still so damn good and worth it, isn't it? :)

    ReplyDelete
  5. I'm curious. You can't just tell me that the sentence has an irony to you without a little explanation as to why (even if it is 'I don't want to explain it);)...how about it?

    Second: you are playing with words young man!! (omg, I sound like one of my old teachers!) You know what I meant! Egocentrism. Our self is indeed in the center of us, but it is also part of a system. I see the definition of 'self-centered' as putting one's self in the middle of that system. (I was going to make an analogy with Catholics discovering, after years of blinding themselves, that the Earth wasn't the center of the universe but a part of something greater...but it's early in the morning and my brain isn't really there yet :P) For me, self-centeredness, is placing oneself in the middle of a circle instead of being part of it. But I agree: literally, our self is in our center and it's also incredibly to have a very strong sense of self, before having a sense of others.

    Third: I wikipedia-ed the movie you said was interesting and the story looks really good. Really different. The idea of never lying is ...strange. I'm asking you, out of curiosity: did the world without lies seem better than the one with them? My spring break's in a week: I'll check it out then.

    (PS: Did you read the book "Shutter Island"? I'd like to talk the end over with someone, because I'm not sure about it) :P

    ReplyDelete
  6. You know, talking with you over coffee must make for quite an interesting afternoon !:P

    I've heard once, that the churches were built really big and really high, because it brought us closer up to God. And here I was, thinking that God was everywhere..! Shame on me.

    ReplyDelete
  7. This was intense. Pain is a powerful teacher. When we experience it, we tend to learn just so we never have to feel it again.

    I think the hardest thing in life is letting go.

    ReplyDelete
  8. I liked that sentence too: maybe that's why I still remember it 5 years later!:P

    Perfect is relative. You know what perfect is when you know what isn't. (You talked about it on one of your blogs, I think: I'm not going to repeat it) Many say that "perfect" can never really happen; nothing can really be perfect. I don't agree with that. "Perfect" can be just a moment of something that makes you happy. Whatever that something is. ;)

    ReplyDelete

So...what did you think?