Leaping from a ledge

And this is what it feels like to take a flying leap off a ledge....I've always been paralyzed by fear, and the need to make it go away leads me to be a bird in the hand is better than two in the bush kind of a person. So, it's very scary to know that someone I loved at one point is engaged. That's it. No going back now.

I sit here, clearly upset about this. If he's happy, then great, but it still leaves me with a question mark on the future. Like.....where's my partner? Do I have one? I was the one that broke up with him, not because I didn't love him, but because we weren't the right fit and I loved him so deeply I was always afraid of hurting or stringing him along, so I ended it. I let him go for good reasons. And I've been rewarded with loneliness, a thing I avoid at most costs, with the exception of co-dependence.

I keep telling myself that I will not be with someone simply because I'm afraid of being alone. Although an empty bed is starting to wear on me in ways I couldn't previously imagine. In fact, I've really been drowning in grief, barely treading the water. I've always been a person to take into account that life is full of suffering, and I'd like to form a partnership with someone, so we can hold one another's hands when the chips are down. There's a great piece of a dialog from an otherwise mediocre movie that is In Good Company; something to the effect of one character asking another how they knew who the right soul mate was. The older character says, you know, life is hard, you just grab who you think is a good partner, get in the foxhole together. That's kind of the way I've envisioned it too.

So here's my leap. I ended it knowing this could happen, knowing he probably would move on permanently with someone else. My leap of faith is the fact that there's no guarantee there's someone else out there. Man, I hope there is. I really do. But I have the cold piece of comfort to know that I made the right choice for both of us.
 

Cigarettes

What is it about cigarettes that are still so fascinating? Especially in light of decades of empirical non-partisan research that shows smoking causes many types of cancers in the human body.

I ask the question for many reasons; I've been watching the brilliant television series Saving Grace and Californication which both feature self-destructive characters that smoke like chimneys. The characters' love of cigarettes, promiscuous sex and heavy drinking are all signs of self-destruction, but I beg the question: why is self destruction so sexy?

It's not of course. I've seen too many family members die from complications from smoking to know that there's really nothing sexy to it. It's disgusting really; inhaling vapor death. Yes, all people die, but since I've witnessed cancer and complications from smoking firsthand, I can honestly tell other people, that cancer is not a good way to go. No way really is, and few are lucky enough to die in their sleep, but cancer is sickening pain; sick cells replicating themselves and spreading, attacking the inside of the body until nothing but pain is left.

Why is self-destruction sexy? Maybe it's because it's such an intense, passionate emotion. Maybe self destruction is the beginning phase to creating someone better; the way the phoenix has to explode into painful fire and die down to ashes in order to return strong. Or maybe it's because the phoenix only shows its most magnificent feathers seconds before it incinerates itself. Either way, the beauty comes at a price.