In high school, I wrote a slew of poetry, but I stopped abruptly. The following are the only two poems I've written in the past twelve years.
the fruit of your labor
January 11, 2002
Your memory crushes me
Your harshness a crutch
You failed to build me up
You failed to destroy me
You fail to enjoy your greatest dream
You insult my creativity
You deny the insult
You invalidated my dreams
You destroyed my art
You deprived the world
Your stoic nature
Your quick wit
Your definite, brilliant opinions
Your open-minded politics
Your closed-minded world
Your never ending cast of blame and denial of error
Pushed me away
You thrived on your creation of words
And abhorred my creations
Enjoy your hell
Rot in your dream
Perfection
August 19, 2007
I am not perfect.
I am intelligent.
I am educated.
I am knowledgeable.
But I am not perfect.
I am strong.
I am emotional.
I am insightful.
I am intuitive.
But I am not perfect.
I am creative.
I am musical.
I am artistic.
I am fluid.
But I am not perfect.
I am well spoken.
I have good grammar.
I have good spelling.
I have good diction.
But I am not perfect.
You think you write better than me.
You think I can't draw.
My music is too loud for you.
I am not the same as you.
And I shouldn't need your approval.
You are not perfect.
I find the power of words to be truly amazing. I'm amazed that one sentence could possibly have instilled so much bitterness in me. Every time I think about writing a poem, I think about how insignificant, how impotent she made me feel, and I'm helpless; I freeze. My brain shuts down and all that's left is the pure emotion, the bitterness, the anger, the hatred, the insecurity, the sheer terror of upsetting her, but she has been out of my life for nearly a decade.
Be careful what you say, as you never know how deeply it can hurt someone--even if the effect isn't immediate. All she said was, "my poetry is better than yours." Ultimately, though, it's not just what you say, as absolutely everything about her demeanor implied she was right and I was wrong.
When I finally left, I was a hollow shell of a man--not even a person. I lost $18k getting out of the marriage, but I wanted out so badly I didn't want to argue over it.
I had just turned 21.
That was a very long time ago.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
The Five Love Languages -- Update
I've been aware of "The Five Love Languages" for a long time, but I had never actually read it for myself. I finally sat down and read the entire book within a 24-hour period. Learning about this from another person is just not the same as reading it for myself. I was amazed to find that I was completely wrong on my love language (see previous entry on this topic). I'm "Words of Affirmation" and "Physical Touch." In other words, I'm definitely going to tell you how awesome you are, I'll never condescend, and I'll shower you with lots of hugs. If you can't handle that, we aren't a match. :P
Monday, June 9, 2008
I'm an Elitist
I've known people that have gotten really pissed off at me for thinking that I am smarter than most everyone else and that it makes me the least bit different from anyone else. The truth is that I am and it does. I am well aware that it does not make me better than anyone else, but this is one thing that validates my rant about online dating (I'm not sorry if that offended you). If you can't understand how this stuff works, you are not my equal. In my entire life, I have known four peers that I've sat down with and that have been able to keep up with me (one of those four well exceeded me). It is not unreasonable to desire to be understood. Everyone desires to be understood. I desire to be able to have conversations about my ideas. If you find that arrogant or offensive, then I don't particularly care. No, I do care. I care because you are selfishly expecting me to be something I am not, hence the rant.
Note: This was written in November of 2006, is a repost, and it's a subset of a larger (completely unrelated) entry. I had been thinking about writing a *new* entry pointing out that I don't think it's such a bad thing to be "elitist." A few minutes ago, I stumbled across something I wrote two and a half years ago that says it as well as I'd expect to say it now.
Note: This was written in November of 2006, is a repost, and it's a subset of a larger (completely unrelated) entry. I had been thinking about writing a *new* entry pointing out that I don't think it's such a bad thing to be "elitist." A few minutes ago, I stumbled across something I wrote two and a half years ago that says it as well as I'd expect to say it now.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
The Five Love Languages - Words of Affirmation
I learned about The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman several years ago, but I learned about it second-hand--through an SO. As a result, my understanding was directly dependent on her understanding of the love languages. I've been meaning to read it myself for quite some time, and today, I stumbled across it at the bookstore, and now I've read the first 1/3 of the book.
The first language he discusses is "Words of Affirmation." She asserted that this is her love language but concluded that this is NOT my love language. After reading the chapter myself, I'm not so sure any more. In fact, I'm seeing in a completely different light a potential reason for why both of my marriages failed.
I've always been one to fish for compliments, and I know that. I think it's obvious that I'm fishing, but maybe it isn't. I need to be told that I'm important. This is so deeply ingrained in my psyche that it doesn't just apply to personal relationships--it applies to everything that I do. I regularly "show off" at work to whomever is closest (or whomever is likely to care) just so that I can hear someone say, "that's pretty cool," about whatever I built/designed/put together.
In high school, I fell in love with someone I couldn't have. We were good friends and hung out a fair amount, but through circumstances well beyond the scope of this entry, a romantic relationship wasn't an option. I lost my chance. As a result, I put everything I felt in words--poetry. I wrote a fair amount of it. Not all of it was romantic, and not all of it was even relevant to her, but I wrote a lot.
Eventually, I moved on and wound up with someone that was more interested in me. I wrote poetry for her too. I did all kinds of things to express my undying love. I wrote music, I drew, and I even posted a web site proclaiming how incredibly awesome she was. Her response was that my drawings weren't very good and that her poetry was better than mine.
I haven't written any poetry or drawn anything since.
That was ten years ago.
I married her anyway. For me, this relationship turned into a living hell. She had absolutely no grasp on the power of words, despite being an editorial journalist for the university's newspaper. As I interpreted it, she told me every day for a year that she wanted a divorce. Finally, I tried to take her up on what I had interpreted as an offer. At this point, she was completely shocked to find out that asking me every day, "Do you want a divorce," was interpreted as a threat and not as the intended genuine concern that I might be unhappy and want out. In my mind, she never passed up an opportunity to tell me that I was worthless, a complete screw-up, or altogether unlovable (no, these aren't remotely the words she used, but this is how I interpreted it). Obviously, this marriage failed...
...so did the second one. At this point, my primary love language had been reduced to me buying the Hallmark cards that made my second wife so happy that she'd cry--four times per year (Valentines, Anniversary, Birthday, and Christmas). For this, amongst many other reasons, this relationship was doomed from the start.
Last year, I discovered quite by accident that it's in my nature to actively tell a woman exactly how special to me she is. Unfortunately, this woman did not feel the same, and it wound up being a bit much for her and our friendship.
Now, I'm stuck in the position that I'm afraid to say much of anything about what I really think about a woman, as I'm afraid I'm going to come off "too strong" and scare her away. For a very long time, I've also completely avoided bringing up any of my complaints as I've always been afraid that a single complaint would result in the end of the relationship (can you blame me when I heard the question, "do you want a divorce," every day?).
Ironically, the only women I ever tell exactly what I think of them are the ones I don't expect to ever hear back from. Once in a blue moon, I find a woman on a dating site that impresses me for some reason or another, and for yet another reason, I believe a relationship between the two of us would be doomed to fail. I write an email sending a compliment and noting that I don't expect to hear back. These emails are my "just to brighten your day" emails. I know how it would make me feel to receive a no-pressure compliment, so I pass them along.
The first language he discusses is "Words of Affirmation." She asserted that this is her love language but concluded that this is NOT my love language. After reading the chapter myself, I'm not so sure any more. In fact, I'm seeing in a completely different light a potential reason for why both of my marriages failed.
I've always been one to fish for compliments, and I know that. I think it's obvious that I'm fishing, but maybe it isn't. I need to be told that I'm important. This is so deeply ingrained in my psyche that it doesn't just apply to personal relationships--it applies to everything that I do. I regularly "show off" at work to whomever is closest (or whomever is likely to care) just so that I can hear someone say, "that's pretty cool," about whatever I built/designed/put together.
In high school, I fell in love with someone I couldn't have. We were good friends and hung out a fair amount, but through circumstances well beyond the scope of this entry, a romantic relationship wasn't an option. I lost my chance. As a result, I put everything I felt in words--poetry. I wrote a fair amount of it. Not all of it was romantic, and not all of it was even relevant to her, but I wrote a lot.
Eventually, I moved on and wound up with someone that was more interested in me. I wrote poetry for her too. I did all kinds of things to express my undying love. I wrote music, I drew, and I even posted a web site proclaiming how incredibly awesome she was. Her response was that my drawings weren't very good and that her poetry was better than mine.
I haven't written any poetry or drawn anything since.
That was ten years ago.
I married her anyway. For me, this relationship turned into a living hell. She had absolutely no grasp on the power of words, despite being an editorial journalist for the university's newspaper. As I interpreted it, she told me every day for a year that she wanted a divorce. Finally, I tried to take her up on what I had interpreted as an offer. At this point, she was completely shocked to find out that asking me every day, "Do you want a divorce," was interpreted as a threat and not as the intended genuine concern that I might be unhappy and want out. In my mind, she never passed up an opportunity to tell me that I was worthless, a complete screw-up, or altogether unlovable (no, these aren't remotely the words she used, but this is how I interpreted it). Obviously, this marriage failed...
...so did the second one. At this point, my primary love language had been reduced to me buying the Hallmark cards that made my second wife so happy that she'd cry--four times per year (Valentines, Anniversary, Birthday, and Christmas). For this, amongst many other reasons, this relationship was doomed from the start.
Last year, I discovered quite by accident that it's in my nature to actively tell a woman exactly how special to me she is. Unfortunately, this woman did not feel the same, and it wound up being a bit much for her and our friendship.
Now, I'm stuck in the position that I'm afraid to say much of anything about what I really think about a woman, as I'm afraid I'm going to come off "too strong" and scare her away. For a very long time, I've also completely avoided bringing up any of my complaints as I've always been afraid that a single complaint would result in the end of the relationship (can you blame me when I heard the question, "do you want a divorce," every day?).
Ironically, the only women I ever tell exactly what I think of them are the ones I don't expect to ever hear back from. Once in a blue moon, I find a woman on a dating site that impresses me for some reason or another, and for yet another reason, I believe a relationship between the two of us would be doomed to fail. I write an email sending a compliment and noting that I don't expect to hear back. These emails are my "just to brighten your day" emails. I know how it would make me feel to receive a no-pressure compliment, so I pass them along.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
INFJ??
I just took yet another personality test, but this one had far more interesting questions, and I couldn't predict their intentions. For the first time ever, I tested as an INFJ--and reasonably strong on all of the letters. The J shocked me so much that I went and read a few of the INFJ descriptions that I could find, and then I compared them to the INFP description (which I've thought I am since middle school), and I'm beginning to wonder if this test has categorized me better than I've ever categorized myself.
I'm always trying to figure out who I am and why I am the way that I am (in general), and this easily fits into both types. I've always found myself different--even from other INFPs. Ultimately, no one I've ever met remotely interacts with the world the way that I do. Do you know anyone that went to state-level math competitions *and* performed in your high school musicals? Is this person a talented musician *and* a kick-ass computer programmer?
I've always been laid-back and messy, but I've never been disorganized, per se. I hate lists, but I know the personality types of everyone I know. I haven't done dishes at my own house in a year, but I hand-washed most of the dishes at my friend's house last week--because I felt like it.
Ultimately, I'm organized and decisive about things that matter to me (like concepts and people), but I'm excessively disorganized and indecisive about things that don't matter to me... like chores and getting out of bed.
I've been very surprised to find on OkCupid that the vast majority of my matches are INTJs. There are a small number of INFPs and even fewer INFJs. Note that I noticed... and remembered. Until now, it has surprised me that my best friend is an INTJ. I communicate much better with the INFPs that I know, but ultimately, my values are more aligned with my INTJ friends (her boyfriend is an INTJ too). Likewise, my organization of people tends to offend my INFP friends (a little); It's interpreted as cold-hearted or closed-minded. Okay, I'll admit: Not only do I keep up with the personality types of everyone I know, but I have a fair idea of their IQs too. Really.
Along the value lines: I know four INFPs, and three of them still live with their parent(s). Out of four INFPs, one got a college degree by 22. Two of the remaining are working on their degrees in their mid twenties and the fourth got her degree in her early thirties. None of them are atheists. Other than me, all of the NFs that I know are either Christians or believe in some sort of ephemeral spirit realm (e.g. The Secret). All of the NTs that I know are atheists (note: not all of the NFs are girls and not all of the NTs are guys).
Why am I different? I'm still working on that.
I'm always trying to figure out who I am and why I am the way that I am (in general), and this easily fits into both types. I've always found myself different--even from other INFPs. Ultimately, no one I've ever met remotely interacts with the world the way that I do. Do you know anyone that went to state-level math competitions *and* performed in your high school musicals? Is this person a talented musician *and* a kick-ass computer programmer?
I've always been laid-back and messy, but I've never been disorganized, per se. I hate lists, but I know the personality types of everyone I know. I haven't done dishes at my own house in a year, but I hand-washed most of the dishes at my friend's house last week--because I felt like it.
Ultimately, I'm organized and decisive about things that matter to me (like concepts and people), but I'm excessively disorganized and indecisive about things that don't matter to me... like chores and getting out of bed.
I've been very surprised to find on OkCupid that the vast majority of my matches are INTJs. There are a small number of INFPs and even fewer INFJs. Note that I noticed... and remembered. Until now, it has surprised me that my best friend is an INTJ. I communicate much better with the INFPs that I know, but ultimately, my values are more aligned with my INTJ friends (her boyfriend is an INTJ too). Likewise, my organization of people tends to offend my INFP friends (a little); It's interpreted as cold-hearted or closed-minded. Okay, I'll admit: Not only do I keep up with the personality types of everyone I know, but I have a fair idea of their IQs too. Really.
Along the value lines: I know four INFPs, and three of them still live with their parent(s). Out of four INFPs, one got a college degree by 22. Two of the remaining are working on their degrees in their mid twenties and the fourth got her degree in her early thirties. None of them are atheists. Other than me, all of the NFs that I know are either Christians or believe in some sort of ephemeral spirit realm (e.g. The Secret). All of the NTs that I know are atheists (note: not all of the NFs are girls and not all of the NTs are guys).
Why am I different? I'm still working on that.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Home
I was thinking last night about a test I took a while ago.
What Word Are You?
I'm: Home.
Originally, I didn't think anything of it. I still don't think much of the test, as it's pretty clearly an advertisement for a book.
Despite this, I was thinking about the word "home." There's the cliché, "Home is where the heart is," and it's incredibly true. We've heard it so much, though, that we may only see this for its obvious interpretation. I grew up in Asheville, NC, so Asheville will always be home to me.
That isn't why I'm writing this blog entry.
I've been asked many times how I knew I was in love. Every time, I've failed to give a good answer, but the answer came to me the other night: "Home." When you're in love, Home isn't where you grew up. Home isn't where you spent most of your life. Home isn't a city, state, or your native country. Home isn't where you pay rent or where you sleep at night.
Home is a person. Wherever I am, if I'm with her, I'm home.
I've been homeless for more than a year.
What Word Are You?
I'm: Home.
Originally, I didn't think anything of it. I still don't think much of the test, as it's pretty clearly an advertisement for a book.
Despite this, I was thinking about the word "home." There's the cliché, "Home is where the heart is," and it's incredibly true. We've heard it so much, though, that we may only see this for its obvious interpretation. I grew up in Asheville, NC, so Asheville will always be home to me.
That isn't why I'm writing this blog entry.
I've been asked many times how I knew I was in love. Every time, I've failed to give a good answer, but the answer came to me the other night: "Home." When you're in love, Home isn't where you grew up. Home isn't where you spent most of your life. Home isn't a city, state, or your native country. Home isn't where you pay rent or where you sleep at night.
Home is a person. Wherever I am, if I'm with her, I'm home.
I've been homeless for more than a year.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Perfection
I am not perfect.
I am intelligent.
I am educated.
I am knowledgeable.
But I am not perfect.
I am strong.
I am emotional.
I am insightful.
I am intuitive.
But I am not perfect.
I am creative.
I am musical.
I am artistic.
I am fluid.
But I am not perfect.
I am well spoken.
I have good grammar.
I have good spelling.
I have good diction.
But I am not perfect.
You think you write better than me.
You think I can't draw.
My music is too loud for you.
I am not the same as you.
And I shouldn't need your approval.
You are not perfect.
I am intelligent.
I am educated.
I am knowledgeable.
But I am not perfect.
I am strong.
I am emotional.
I am insightful.
I am intuitive.
But I am not perfect.
I am creative.
I am musical.
I am artistic.
I am fluid.
But I am not perfect.
I am well spoken.
I have good grammar.
I have good spelling.
I have good diction.
But I am not perfect.
You think you write better than me.
You think I can't draw.
My music is too loud for you.
I am not the same as you.
And I shouldn't need your approval.
You are not perfect.
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