Coward

1. a person who lacks the courage to do or endure dangerous or unpleasant things.

Maybe I am a coward.  I've been told quite clearly that I was one today.  And maybe that's the truth.  I will not deny that I ran.  That when things got beyond anything that I could reasonably endure that I shut down, that I turned off inside any reason, any sense, any judgement.

So here I begin.

Upon the hard events that happened in Washington this past July, I left.  I stepped outside my marriage.  I felt like it was all over.  Divorce was the only thing that I had on my mind.  I will tell the specifics, as I can best unravel them to the people that matter most, Jenelle, my family, my closest friends.  But below I need to say some other things as well.

Jenelle is a good woman.  We've had our differences, our fights, our major disagreements, but she is a good woman.  She willingly took on the mantle of "stepmom", and not the evil kind, she tried to establish a relationship with my kids from the onset, and opened up her home and heart to them.  She was the first to push at the kids coming to live here when their mom died.  I was still trying to figure out the bigger picture of having us all together, yet she immediately opened up.  We struggled together, but who wouldn't with all that transpired.  I don't wish the situation on anyone.

I did my best to find the balance with everyone, but it was difficult with a newborn, two teenagers new to Atlanta, a young marriage and two cats.  I was overwhelmed.  But we pushed and we tried.  Continuing to figure out this new life.

Jenelle has been through a lot of tragedy in her life.  She lost her love to a long battle with PTSDs.  Widowed early and always wanting a family, I know how strong she is.  She has weathered storms that many wouldn't ever have made it through.  And when we met I knew that there was something about her that I fell hard for.  That I loved.  

I have had my struggles with life as well.  And though I've gone about it many different ways, I have tried my best to move through the times of adversity.  And me being here, breathing is a huge statement.  I have a lot of scars in that area, but I also have some great victories of heart and spirit.

So recently I couldn't find the way to get back to the heart.  Jenelle and I both had a lot to figure out.  And we went through some pretty hard moments. But even when we were at our worst, she tried.

I did too, but it just wasn't the same.

I know there are things that she and I need to discuss, in detail, but I want to do this openly right now.  I want to apologize for the things that I have done in our relationship that have openly, or covertly hurt and tread upon her.  Our finances, the selling of a house with memories, the loss of Radar (cat), the inability to have the needed conversations about renovations, the loss of trust with taking on that project, the rift that was built as we tried to guide the kids through a new life here in Atlanta, the loss of "us", the checking account, and more, including the acts of the last several months.

I ran inward.  So if I'm a coward, let's start there.  I have always run there.  From the struggles early on, to my first thoughts on talking about them - only to realize that most would rather just sweep things under the rug and not deal with issues of childhood abuse, to the times when I just felt like the world was caving and the only safe haven was inside.  That's always been my refuge.  One I'm leaning on a little today, though I'm sitting here in front of this screen to try and NOT go to far inside, to NOT disappear completely.  

When I was 6 or 7, I ran.

When I was 15, I ran.

When I was 29, I ran.

When I was 34, I ran.  And then I fell.  

Then there were others who I met who also went far inside themselves to escape.  To hide.  To not get swallowed up.

And the little boy actually found some solace in being surrounded by a bunch of guys who also had their demons, their pasts.  For the first time in my entire life, I felt like I wasn't the fucking oddity.  The sideshow act that just wasn't funny.

But all of this is just my past. I don't want to digress too much.  I have ran from my beginnings, and I have run now.  Only I stopped.  About a month ago I realized that the place I wanted to be was right behind me, but I was too stupid, scared, pigheaded, lost to open up and see it as it could be.  And in true Chad, since 2006/2011 (backstory needed to understand those dates), I stopped and instead of running, started to stand.

To better get to the root of things I have asked her to go to counseling with me.  To see if there is anything there to share, to continue, to salvage.  But for me I'm taking the journey back inside my head and heart.  Counseling with a new counselor that I seem to trust a little already.  Journaling and talking with those who I trust and need to open up to.  And MOST IMPORTANTLY not hide myself inside myself.

What I have always wanted in my life was the normal.  But what I realize now is that there is NO NORMAL.  We all have our stories, our chapters.   From the time I was a young kid I wanted a family.  But who in their fucking right mind would want to be with someone so gross and ugly inside?  That was my perception.  And I either did it badly or I really tried, but still the relationships failed.  The opening up was always hard, if not impossible.  And in one instance, the opening up caused serious repercussions throughout the entire household.

All that brings me back to Jenelle.  I am not putting her up on a pedestal.  Just acknowledging the thing that I've always known.  That she is the first person that I've truly, deeply loved.  Loved deep enough to let her inside the maze of my insides.  She caught my attention and held it, even though it would be months before I even really had a serious conversation with her. But even then, I see that the conversations that I've had with her in recent weeks are deeper.  That I want her to know me, and I think she has an image of me, though right now it may be horrific, but to really invest and know the whole me.

So as I am trying to find my heart.  The words.  The truth.  I want her to try and know that maybe I'm a coward at times, but I'm also a real person.  With some serious warts, and some special parts as well.

There will be more to say.  But for now it's just this.

Let me show...

A Hundred Dollar Bill

So he stirred his coffee, mixing the bitter-bean liquid with enough cream and sweetener to make it tolerable (not Seattle's best, regardless of how popular the brand is).  

Her words kept ringing in his ear. 

"My kids would be better off if I was dead.  I can't even pay for the hotel room tonight... no, I don't have any money until tomorrow... I don't know what I'm gonna do."

It was a private conversation, but he had slowed down as he was walking into the store, to hear something that caught part of his attention.  The grocery store is a place where many conversations happen.  And as he had walked in to buy legal addictive stimulants, he couldn't help but hear her words.  Then he was struck by the sincerity, the emotion in the conversation she was having through the phone.

"I'll have a Grande... room for cream."  Nothing stopped the pursuit of coffee.  But she was behind him.  Standing inside the sliding doorway to the store.  And as he waited and went to stir, something more was stirring inside of him.  How could he hear that conversation and just go on as if nothing touched him.

He glanced back at her and took in an older black lady wearing scrubs, probably worked in a doctor's office or something, she looked tired, upset.  But was it really his place to do anything?

Inside, a voice kept telling him to go.....

"Ma'am, ma'am.  I need you to have this!" as he handed her the emergency $100 bill he kept in the back of his wallet.  Her eyes opened wide with the quick gesture of pushing the bill into her hand. "Just those things you said, you have to promise me not to do anything.  Take care of your kids.  Just for tonight.  I hope that it's enough."  

He was walking away when she asked, tears already filing each crevice of her already weary face, "can I pay you back, please".

"No, you already have," he replied.

That Hundred dollars won't mean much to him.  He'll go on without missing out on a meal or having a place to sleep that's warm and dry.  But maybe she was really needing the money, and maybe it will help her get through the night.  He'll never know, but it's the fact that in the moment, a voice that wouldn't let go of his spirit allowed him to reach out and touch another's life in a good, a positive way.  And isn't that more of what this life is really about?

That was my day.

What if I fail you all?

What if I fail you all?
I know I'll stumble, that I'll fall

But I won't lose sight of the Mountain high
Even if in the valley, for now I reside
Cause my heart has rendered, shed so many tears
All from latent, childhood fears

I am no child, yes, I'm a man
Doesn't mean I always understand 
     why the skies grow gloomy, when the sun is out, 
     when there's rain on my face, in the midst of a drought

But I know that I'll always pick up the trail to find
And when I'm lost, I'll reach deep inside
Tell you all I love you, 
     and yes, I may fail you again
But I won't leave you, til the very end.


9/22/17
clc

Crimson C

Maybe I should take my chest and emblazon it with my own version of a scarlet A?  

a Crimson C. 

I know that the actions I've taken seem just as devastating.  Just as damning to one in particular.  To her.  Longing for a settling of the original storms that came into our lives, I found no peace, no rest,  but instead decided to forge the deepest tsunami I could call upon.  I OWN my symbol of shame and hurt, in her eyes.  But I know there is still something there.  Some part that might have been strong enough to resist the waters, the winds, the pain.... just a little.

And for me, it makes all the hurts I've felt over the past seem slightly less the priority, not unimportant, but we'll get there...  and as I wake, I wonder is it too early to cry? Is it too early to let those emotions flow? I should be there, but I'm not. I should be there, "A" on my chest or not.

I've been a little lost...

Lost on an island of misfit toys?  Caught on some deserted island with a friend named "Wilson"?

No.  Just lost.

And then I wasn't.  I was sitting in the midst of the mess that I helped create.  Not making any excuses, but starting to look beyond the fog and see some of the things that being lost helped me lose.

And now I have to regroup. Find what matters most and do everything in my power to show "me", show my real heart and hopefully, maybe find some true peace... even in the midst of the storm.

I've made some poor decisions. Actions I don't condone. I've blatantly said things that when I hear them seem so 'not me'.  But I also know that I was trying to find a place where the walls weren't crumbling, our relationship not so torn, and everything less a tumultuous hurricane.

Not the Florida one, but this is an emotional tidal wave that stirs the waters well beyond my own heart, my own spirit.  If you think you know me, then realize that I am FLAWED, broken and torn apart.  I have found myself looking at myself and seeing the best parts, but also seeing the parts that are in need of mending.  And I have looked into her eyes and tried to say "I'm sorry. I want this.  I will be here."

I've been reading a lot, looking for things that help explain the crazy way I've been.  And above all of these things,  watching scenes from the movie "Fireproof" has been one of the most poignant and eye-opening of all of them (need to go back and rewatch it).  It's a faith-based movie about a couple way beyond help.  Filled with anger and hurts, this couple are so far apart from finding any answers, until the husband is encouraged to take 1 Corinthians 13 to heart for 40 days (blatant biblical reference there folks).

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails."
          1 Corinthians 13:4-8

So lost, so out of control, I just don't know what the answers were, but I know the feelings in the following scene.  The first one, where he just expresses everything he hates, loathes, wants to be gone.  I was there.  I've seen, felt, breathed those moments.  But that's not the man I am or want to be.

FIREPROOF - SCENES

I am writing this, first as a letter to my wife, someone who I think deserves these answers. But I'm also writing it as a cry from a man who has spent the better part of the last week or so sobbing mercilessly in front of the mirror - trying to understand himself, and how the spirit of hope and love can be so far misplaced.

I'm sorry.  I was hurting.  I think you were hurting too.  Doesn't ever excuse things. Forgive me and know my heart.



9/8-9/17
clc

Wild Horses

something about watching them gallop across wide, open spaces.

untethered. loose to roam the day and night across the terrain.

the beauty in their movements.
the power in their frames.
the passion in their Spirits.

Wild.

Unchained.

Free.

I've only once or twice felt even close to being so open and free.

Too many chains, too many binds that tied me down to being less than what I can be.  Far too many wasted days and nights.

Bridled and succumbed, my spirit fighting just to breathe, let alone run.

Run, run free in the spirit.

Standing.  Walking.  Running. Rising up on hind legs and declaring at the top of my lungs...


...well i can hope.

I still haven't truly felt it.  Only a few special moments - only with a trusted one or two.

I dont know that I'll know how to handle the truth of a life without those restrictions.  Restrictions that my spirit feels are such a part of me.  But i have to find out...

I just have to know.


Wild Horses.

me.

free.