I know I haven’t blogged in a while. To be honest it’s more than a while. It’s a lifetime. Not in the hyperbolic sense that friends reuniting after months of little to no contact will tell each other “It’s been an age!”, but an actual lifetime. The man I was, the man you knew, the man who started this blog as an outlet for his heartbreak and bitterness. That man is gone. In his place was born a different creature. I have the same experiences, and many of the same opinions. I also have a few things that man had long cast aside; hope, optimism, a balanced sate of mind.
I like to think the change is obvious. That people who knew me then and know me now can see. Like I changed my hair colour, or lost a tonne of weight. I consider the old me almost unrecognisable. I’m also really embarrassed by him. I don’t really remember all of what I wrote in here, but I remember what I felt and what I thought. It’s troubling. If I met me I’d find myself completely insufferable.
I don’t think I’m unique. I’m sure heartbreak has turned many a rational thinking human being into a raving dickbag. I convinced myself that I’d only ever be happy with one person or, tragically, a version of that person. I pined. I whined. I convinced myself that love was dead.
I was an idiot.
I do consider myself lucky. I ran out of steam on my self indulgent streak of misery just in time. If I’d left it even a little later I would have missed out completely on the life I have now. A life I’m thankful for each and every day.
I don’t know how I got so lucky. I fell completely in love with someone, and found a best friend in the bargain. Somebody I can love unconditionally. Somebody I’d happily spend every waking moment with were it possible (and the sleeping ones too). Somebody I want to tell everything to. Somebody I have no secrets from. Somebody who is as happy to listen to my stupid jokes as my well thought out opinions and philosophy. Somebody who I have so much to learn from, and so much to share with.
I spent a number of years convinced that Rob Fleming had the right of it. That it was what you like that mattered more than what you were like. I don’t think that’s true any more.
I know I’ll never deserve the happiness I’ve found. I’ve spent far too many selfish years making myself happy. It didn’t work. I’m going to spend the rest trying to make her happy. If I live long enough maybe I’ll tip the scales towards having been a decent guy after all.