Currently Chasing: What It Is

I got an email today. The subject said, I read your blog. The reader went on to tell me that my last post about the Soldier hit him pretty hard. He had been going through something similar and he could relate. In fact, his exact words were, “I feel you.”

He then told me not to take his "I feel you" lightly because, as many may know, that's one of the most powerful phrases his generation has been able to come up with. It's all they have besides "It is what it is."

Noted.

What he felt me on was the part in my blog where I talked about finally believing in love and then having it ripped right out of my soul. He mentioned that the whole concept of being lonely is a “female” thing, which I thought was funny. If Lonely was human though, I suppose it would be a girl. However, I think if Alone was human, it would be a man – since we are being sexist and all.

Anyway, he said he had finally met a woman that had him looking at rings. He said, “I was ready to marry this girl – RIGHT IN THE FACE.”

In a matter of two days it went from Heaven to Hell and the path from H to H was riddled with “so many Beatles references that it would probably make you sick.”

(He highly underestimates my tolerance for the fab four!)

At some point she second guessed their relationship “from matrimony into oblivion.”

In a nutshell, he couldn’t get her to realize that it didn’t matter that she didn’t know every one of his political and religious opinions. She just couldn’t understand “that all we needed was love.”

“Damn Those Beatles,” he said.

And to him I say, I feel you.

 It seems like these days … everyone is only there, until they are gone.

The Canadian is leaving in about two weeks. I’m torn between feeling nothing and wanting to feel nothing. It’s not that I didn’t see this coming, or know that he was going. Of course I knew. From the moment he said his first Canadian-accented word I knew he wasn’t destined to be mine. But I pursued him anyway, because that’s what I do, right? I spend my time chasing the ones I know aren’t the ones.

I will miss the Canadian. I don’t know if he will miss me because that is one of those things he just doesn’t say. It’s not something he doesn’t feel though … and maybe even though he doesn’t say the words, there will be those moments when he wishes I was there to correct his pronunciation. And I know I’ll think of him every time I watch an episode of Dexter, because he looks like Michael C. Hall – on steroids.

I’ll make sure he has my email address, just in case he decides one day that he wants to say Hi. Or in case he needs my address because he’s decided to pack up everything he owns and come to Maryland to live. You know, either of those very realistic hypotheticals.

He has a lot of goals…and as a focused man in his mid-twenties; he has plenty of time to make all of them happen.  

Instead of feeling him, I’m just going to miss how he feels.

But it is what it is.