Screw talking about my fail film stuff (It's not really fail. I just haven't gotten a chance to really look into it more with my car in the shop. I swear to sweet Jesus that it'll get goddamn done). I think tonight is for something a tab bit personal, huh? Does it feel like that for you? Beautiful snow, driving with a good friend...
It honestly isn't often that I've gotten to really Talk with this guy. We can. And we have. But the real close, personal conversations are always so hard to broach, and I consider that a failure. I hate the idea that a social norm like "males aren't suppose'ta talk 'bout sappy stuff!" could have any sort of sway on me, but it really is hard. But, every once and a while, we break through and it really changes things for me. I'm talking a night of dredging up old feelings we've had for different people at different points in our personal developments that had left a real, solid impression. To be honest, anyone that I've shared real time with is someone that's affected me...
But some just did a better job. What can I say?
See, first, let's just go with my first girlfriend. Do you understand what I mean when I say, all these years later (read: watch me pretend that I'm Sooo far removed), I can still taste those first lips that ever pressed to mine that didn't belong to my family. No matter how long we've gone since we've lost real contact, I still can taste it. I can feel the electricity. I can feel the excitement. Talking about it honestly had me resting back in my seat, just reminiscing. We may not have been a good fit together in the least, but it was the first, right? That's what it is. That sticks, forever I guess, and I just don't mind that. I hope that, should I somehow inexplicably live to see 80, that I can still close my eyes and remember the moments shared in that old little pavilion, the bleachers, the park near her home that first Halloween that I'd found something so much more interesting than candy to take up my time. Those moments don't seem to fade, and I really do cherish them.
Or, the first love. There is such a difference between the first love and the first person you dated. Unless, I guess, you're lucky? Or, well, usually the phrase "First person you dated" means that there were others afterwards, so... Unlucky? Whichever it is. While that first person has moments etched in there, or maybe a smell or taste, the first love has so much more. That have entirety. They have feelings, they have range. You can be brought back by so many things, such a vast variety that it makes ones mind boggle. They sometimes come often, but it's the ones that catch you off guard that really, truly grab. It's like...
Having a ghost.
A first love, and lost, is having a ghost. It doesn't always hang around, but it does, from time to time, like to remind you that it's there. It'll send a certain smell, a type of food, a song your way just to give you the chance to frown or smile. A shopping center, a road frequently walked, the feeling of fitting. Hours spent just trying to squeeze a few more minutes out of a phone conversation. Pumpkins and pink panthers. Concerts. Warming hands. It's nice when it gets to the point where you can smile about it, and mourn it healthfully. And move on.
Then there are the mistakes. But, even those have their moments! Laying under the stars in a driveway, sitting on the side of a hill on an island of asphalt, the colors of an apartment bedroom, mounds of shoes. House.
Good ones exist as well, but... They're rare. Pictures and drives. Old chatlogs that fill up novels. Leaning on one another.
This is what life is. This is what it all boils down to, in the end. Did you enjoy it? Was it worth it? If it's not now, you still have time. Go out and fix it, find what you need! Until you're dead, underground, waterlogged, ashes, you have time. Love yourself, and find it within to love others. In the end, who cares what you've managed? The tangible things erode. The feelings, though, those last as long as those who matter do, and after they're gone, who the hell do you need to impress? Three generations from now, if no one even knew my name, but I left in my wake a roomful of people made happier by my existence, then damn. What more could I ask for?
Which is exactly why no one I love is allowed to die Before me. The rule is set, so I expect that you all comply for me. This is enough for tonight. Sleep well, internet.