What if I did not love you?
Where would that leave me
Would I wonder through the avenues
Under a pall of misery

Would I be face down in the gutter
With cheap whiskey on my breath
The lonely life of a writer
Whose words could not pay his debts

Singin’ please don’t, please don’t pass me by
I am alive, oh can’t you see?
That I’ve been blinded completely
Please don’t, please don’t pass me by
I am alive, oh can’t you see?
That I am pleading for your mercy

Welcome back,

I’d like to take a brief moment to thank you if you’re reading this. If you are reading this chances are I know, mostly because the people who do read this often have conversations with me about it. You’ve each helped me a bit over the last few months and so, Thanks for being here. Back to business!

I recently wrote about fake happiness, or I guess happiness in general, how I wasn’t sure I understood if I was fake happy or real happy, what divides the two, so on.

A friend who reads this responded today with what her take on happiness is, and it blew me the fuck away. Anyone who knows me knows I never know when to shut up, I alwayssssss have something to say, and a lot of times that’s a bad thing. Her take on happiness actually had me at a genuine loss for words. I didn’t know how to respond so I just said “That’s a hell of a thought.” So much so that I still haven’t even processed it, and I still don’t really have a response.

When I received that text I was also talking with another reader, and dear dear friend, whom has taught me so much more than she’ll ever realize. She had recommended to me to read some of Emily Dickinsons work a few days ago.

Well on the 29th of November I didn’t run for the first time all month, that night I also didn’t sleep, at all. Since I couldn’t sleep I said fuck it, let’s read some of Emily Dickinsons poems, after all I have to write a poem of my own about gratitude for this sundays “Poetry sunday”. Well I ended up reading a bunch of Emily’s work and came to one conclusion, she was sad. When speaking with my friend today she mentioned that Emily Dickinson was in fact sad, and she was alone for much of her life.

A little animated light bulb went off over my head.

Simultaneously I’m having conversations about being alone and sad, and about happiness and gratitude and that’s when it hit. For a split second I said my goal is to be like Emily Dickinson, sad and alone.

Why the fuck would anyone want to be sad and alone?

Quite honestly sadness is a comforting emotion for me, I love sad music, sad movies, sad poems, sad books. Sad, sad, sad. Sometimes I even think I connect better with sad people. For me personally I think through being sad is when I find out the most about life and myself. It’s where I go to find the answers, into the dark.

And then it hit me.

I am sad and alone, please don’t read that as a depressing thought, I kind of enjoy both.

HOWEVER!!!!!!

The sadness wasn’t what I was focused on, I’ve always been a sad guy, I like it, I’m cool with that. Sometimes I’ve described it as happily miserable. I know I’m really selling myself as a peach here.

Anyways the goal isn’t to be sad and alone, though if that’s what life offers, I’m okay with that.

The goal is, and the conclusion I came to is

I don’t need anyone to make me happy.

I don’t need another person to be happy.

I don’t care if there are people there with me or not.

I’ve been sort of edging a manic state the last few days and so these thoughts are fleeting as soon as they’re coming, which is why it took me til now to write about it.

For a short while now I’ve been thinking about how some day, I’ll find love and things will make sense again because when I was in love, the world made a little more sense, and was a little more bearable, but that’s wrong.

I found love.

It’s not another person, or thing.

It’s me….

My whole life I’ve never felt worthy of love, fuck your parents leaving you high and dry to go get high will do that to you.

I don’t know if I’m worthy of another person’s love, that’s a question I may never get the answer to.

I’m worthy of my love though, and quite honestly, I don’t know anyone with more love to give. I’ll continue to give love to others because well, I loveeeeeeee love, I am a hopeless romantic, however, if someone denies my love, fuck it. They’re not worthy. I am worthy of my own love though, so if I feel like doing something loving, I’ll do it for myself, who deserves my love more than me? Currently: No one and that may never change.

Don’t get me wrong I haven’t given up on the idea of loving someone else, I think love is one of the most beautiful disastrous things this life gives us. Love will make you feel like you’re invincible, and in the same day, it can make you feel like nothing.

Having my heart broken last year was the best thing I could have ever gotten.

I went through so much darkness, through darkness is where you find light though, this time the light isn’t another woman, or a job, or whatever. I am the light. I am the light at the end of the tunnel, I’ll make it through all the dark times being my own guiding light.

Dallas has a song and there’s a line in it and I love, it’s a love song so of course I love it, but he says:

“No I am not, where I belong. Shine your light and guide me home.”

What I didn’t realize is, just because I’m not where I belong, doesn’t mean I need someone else to shine their guiding light. I can shine my light, and guide me home, back into my body, back into my conscious.

This probably sounds a little banana pants, and to be fair I did take a small dose of mushrooms today so it may be banana pants.

The best gift you can give yourself is a home, not a physical home, as in a building where you eat and sleep, and are at your most vulnerable. A home you can take anywhere with you. If you create a home within you, you’ll always be safe, and you’ll always be home.

The second best gift you can give yourself is to fall in love with yourself. Take yourself on dates, buy yourself gifts, no one will appreciate your love more than you. For a lot of you that read this, this is the first best gift you can give yourself, because I’ve been lucky to have the 5 or 6 people that read this be, beautiful, intelligent, empathic and compassionate individuals, who deserve the best fucking love life has to offer.

Where the skies are gold not gray,

J.

PS: I forgot to share what my favorite part of this song is. This song was written and produced by Dallas Green of City and Colour. Dallas was approached by a record company and asked to write a song for an artist on their label. After a lot of back and forth he sent them this and never heard back. Years later when he bumped into that artist on tour, he asked if she didn’t like it, the record company never showed it to her. That artist is Kimbra. This song was written by someone who inspired this blog, for someone who inspired this blog. I think it’s such a cool story, at least for me.