The Forward Path

Upon this date, the date of my birth, I now observe the start of year thirty-six of my existence and with it, as has been long standing tradition, I feel little older and only slightly more informed than at any point in recent recollection.

Yet I now find, for the first time in my life, I do in fact feel wiser, in stark contrast to my birthday last year, wherein I felt more foolish and less informed, than I had at any other point in my life that I can clearly recall, by dint of information oversaturation and rampant emotional distress.

Wisdom, is loosely and commonly defined as instinct applied with knowledge and tempered with experience, to result in insight. Given my personal experiences over the last two years now, my instincts have been retrained and honed, my knowledge expanded, and my wisdom forcibly upgraded beyond all desire and expectations I might have had previously.

Having been called an "old soul" since my formative years always sat with me as odd, in an almost but not quite out of place fashion within my heart and mind, yet I now realize that my almost (and that is highly debatable!) unflappable, stalwart ruggedness and ability to be, as my mother has said since I was 12 or so, the so called "Master of the delayed reaction" or rather my forced talent to stop myself from knee jerk emotional reactions, and the fallout they always result in, has in fact preserved and safeguarded me throughout the trials, struggles, and heartbreak of the last two years, from almost losing my job (twice) to losing my father, my wife and best friend, to losing thousands of dollars to dishonest and exploitive persons, weeks worth of sleep, and damn near losing my optimism and sense of humor if not likely some sizable part of whatever "sanity" I have been repeatedly accused of possessing.

This is not at all without its cost of course, and there are regrets and sorrows aplenty, tinging and tainting memories and lessons aplenty but the saving grace is, bitter as it may be, that it all is, she is, now past, and what has been done and said cannot be changed, nor I think should it be, and above all else, I am no longer obliged to be tied to or revisit either her, or any of it. It had its place, but things, and people do change, and rare are either that last even a fraction of the frail and humorous human notion of "forever" and I am lucky to have had roughly ten years of a relationship, nearly seven of which was a fairly healthy romance, that sadly failed due to a combination of terrible timing, distractions, unaddressed health issues, exampled abusive tendencies (narcissism) inadvertent and unintentional neglect, emotional PTSD, questionable advice from people of questionable motivations and the mixing of SSRI's and booze, the majority portion of it all, does not now, nor did it then, fall upon my shoulders, although I gladly take up the burden of what did then, and still now does.
Now most of that is no longer my problem anymore, and while I would hardly call this a "starting from scratch" or "starting over" phase for me, I am now in more than a few ways starting from someplace far behind, or at least far to the side of where I had dreamed and expected of being now, when I pondered such things in years past. To put it plainly, I have lost much these past two years, more than I have ever lost at any time in my life prior. There is a strange sense of being both lighter, and heavier for it all, and I cannot say that I am at this stage, comfortable with it. I may yet do so, and I may never do so as well, only time will tell.

Yet I find a strange sense of freedom now, shed of my once cast iron, voluntary obligation, a freedom balanced with a weight of responsibility, a sense of opportunity one might find when exploring a new place by accident from a mistaken turn on the road, a sense of adventure and potential, of guarded optimism at the unknown, and of coy awareness at the recently learned.

The struggle now is to not allow myself to fall into distraction by looking back needlessly, or pining for some sort of reconnection or reconciliation or restoration. While I still and always will desire to have answers to my final questions, and would be eternally grateful for that last, meaningful (or not) good bye, I am at peace with the simple fact that is I may not ever get any of that, and I must be okay with it.

I'm not okay with it, not at all, it isn't right, it isn't fair, to either her nor myself, but the nice thing is, since life isn't fair, it really doesn't matter, because I can absolutely live with it, just like everything else I've had forced upon me by the will of others because of their terribly selfish and short sighted choices.

It is from here, at this place of acceptance, imperfect as it is, that I can forgive Kristen, and thus allow for myself, the clarity I now need to actually get about the business of actively living my life again.

Now if only the REST of the stupid world could just get the fuck outta my way and let me do it...

All things being equal, I have learned a great deal about myself, about others, about the world at large, and about just how unyielding and unstoppable I can be, in contrast to how tender and gentle I have been in the past. And that I attract hurt, outcast and otherwise damaged personalities (mostly females it seems) to me, because by comparison I have most of my shit decently wired when compared to them (or males) of a similar cut. I'm far from perfect but I realized very recently that compared to most of my peers and most anyone within 20 years of me, I'm shockingly boring and unwarped or damaged, aside from a few specific and highly intense experiences that have only served to reinforce everything else about myself. As such I draw others to me like the proverbial flame attracts moths. 

I still have that softer side within me, but I do not think times will be looking for a gentle or tender man for a while now, but rather that quiet, steely resolution, bordering on defiance, that I have always had, at my core, buried under the layers of gregariousness and gentility I had found refuge within for so many years.

But if the writing on the wall is what I think it is, and means what I think it means, and given the state of social media, and how ingrained it has become, and the light it has shone upon social progression and decay, I'm thinking yeah it does, and as such I should return to my core form.

In the meantime, I now heal, inside and out, mentally, emotionally, and physically and go about my life looking for the next thing to do while I position myself as best as I can. As for what, I cannot say beyond what I want, and what will be, are rarely if ever, one and the same, and, all told, when they are, they rarely stay that way.

It only took me nearly 35 years to figure that out. Thank God above it took me much less than that to figure out who I am, and want to be, some people never figure either out.

Until next time,

~Caleb

My Rules of Life

At this point it time, by dint of injury, a forced time of rest and reflection has been entered, and it has become impressed upon me, that now more than ever, with the world in the state it is in, the status of the current civilization and social progression (or rather regression, but that is for another entry) that it is of the highest priority for me to revaluate and adjust, recondition and shore up my personal tenants and beliefs once more, as I know full well that as time progresses ever onwards to the inevitable end for me, I will again be tested, even after my current test is completed, one way or another.

The Buddha stated and taught the ideal of Dukkha-dukkha, or in plain English, “Life is suffering.” Or as Jordan B. Peterson has said with great conviction, eloquence and clarity that we as humans are "built for struggle". Indeed, we do seem to thrive on adversity, but ironically enough, only when we view it in the context of challenge, as if it was a game, rather than as suffering or struggle for the sake thereof, as inflicted upon us by our very existence. As brilliantly observed, lampooned and yet surmised by author Douglas Adams in his book, The Restaurant at the End of the Universe: “The story so far: In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.”

The constant struggle of order and chaos, the constant pendulum swing driven by ever fluctuating entropy, and the fickleness of the fallen soul of humanity, both collectively and individually, is the building blocks of existence, formed from raw matter and math, in the language of God himself, leads to the push and pull of life, the ups and downs, yet it is what we are made of, frailties and light both, that define just what it is our existence means. It is something we must lay claim to, and then mold by our will if we are to hope of becoming that which we are meant to be, and our failing to do so, is what leads to life molding and defining us, and it is a sad and terrible thing indeed to be so defined by trauma, rather than self.



So what then does one use to define self? It is of course, that most vital cog of causality, the most intimate partner of human will, choice. Choice and choice alone is that which we may use to define ourselves, and to fail in doing so, makes us less than human. So then, how do we choose?

We set for ourselves rules, we pick and choose our reactions and responses to the things not wholly automatic, and we practice daily, how we will respond to the input given to us by the universe, and the other humans we exist with. Just as one would program a computer with “if this, then that” we program ourselves with our choices. In doing so, we train ourselves on how to react, using countless centuries of exampled genetic programming as a starting point, and building from there with the immediate examples of family and friends, before refining and finalizing with our own cognitive choices.



For myself, I list now below, my own rules for life, not as a standard guild or starting place, such as J.B. Peterson has done with his brilliant and timely book "12 Rules for Life: an Antidote to Chaos" but rather more, for the record, and for myself, my own list of rules I have had, edited, refined, and adhered to for the bulk of lo the now almost 35 years of my existence, first published back in 2012 on my old blog, I now bring the long overdue update to my personal rules for life.



Take from them what you will, I don't care, but all I can say for sure, is that for better or worse, they have worked for me, and kept me in that sweet spot between colorful insanity and dull emptiness thus far.





Rule #1: Take responsibility for yourself and your actions and your choices
Without rehashing all that I have already said about personal responsibility, I will surmise this rule as such; there can be no true life without growth, and there can be no positive grown without clear self reflection, and ownership of the same.



Rule #2: Everything costs someone, something
Every, single, damned thing.
Nothing is free except sunlight and air, and their value cannot be lessened because of that.


Rule #3: Manners count, and small things matter more than we ever realize
You will never fully understand how you can or do affect the people around you, and how they in turn will affect others, and even yourself.


Rule #4: Know when to stand your ground / when to back down
Know when to admit your wrong, but also know when to speak up if you are right, and even more so if on behalf of others.


Rule #5: Cover your ass
Part of rule #1 in a way, always seek self improvement, and to be sufficient if not excellent and/or honest in all you do, it helps keep you out of trouble, and will insulate you from injustice if you do get in trouble, because someone somewhere, is looking to screw you over, or is so short sighted and apathetic that they will screw you over out of carelessness, and covering your own ass will negate a level of that.



Rule #6: Extend mercy to them what need it most
Kindness is underused and devalued too easily, and this is all of our fault, but mercy too often is labeled as weakness, when in fact it is one of the brightest marks of strength and righteousness.



Rule #7: trust must be both given AND earned
Much as with Rule #2, trust costs, yet it can be the best investment you can make, as well as the worst. Never give more than the most bare amount upfront, but once proven, it should be given generously until proven to be misplaced, and then it must be horded jealously. Everyone gets one free pass.




Rule #8: Speak well, softly, and respectfully whenever possible
Mean what you say, and say what you mean, and learn how to articulate it as well as possible.




Rule #9: Know your limits
And know how to compensate for them, and how to react when you have been pushed past them.



Rule #10: When worst comes to worst, do not be needlessly nice or polite

In parallel with #9, when one has been pushed to the limits of their composure and good will, it becomes a self aware person, to respond in blunt harshness to them that are inflicting upon them without any gentility, but then they don't deserve it anymore given their habitual negative behaviour.



Rule #11: Stand up for yourself, since so few others will
Linked closely with Rule #7 this rule is foundational to both self respect and personal responsibility, and is the fulcrum by which you will leverage yourself upon when times and people try you, so that you might still hold some measure of self worth through it all,



Rule #12: Make every shot count, no matter the context
Self explanatory.



Rule # 13: When all else fails; endure 

Make the choice before you get out of bed, to not fold like a cheap lawn chair whenever and wherever life or other people decide to fall upon you. Make your plans, have a goal in mind but understand that when it all goes up in flames, you are never beaten if you never quit.



Rule #14: Never disrupt another's right to go their own way
Cooperation is good, but domination is bad, no person out of a thousand is either worthy nor equipped to rule, and any who are, do not seek to do so, and never open yourself up to justice by trying it outside of dire circumstances.



Rule #15: Find something to believe in, to the point you are willing to die for it
Without the power of belief, humans are aimless, and destructive without end, so find a goal, we are creatures designed and evolved to AIM at something beyond us, be it a target to strike, or an achievement to meet or even surpass, it is one of the vital cogs within motivation that allows us to thrive.



Rule # 16: If it ain't broke, don't fix it, and if it is, by God fix it 

Sums up a number of the other rules, but is also fairly self explanatory.



Rule #17: know when to just smile and nod
Better to remain silent and thought poorly of, than to confirm any bias against you by speaking or acting out when unnecessary.


Rule #18: never pass up the chance to laugh
Irony abounds, and comedy requires an audience but humor allows us to face the darkness with a flicker of light, it keeps us from blinking when the abyss finally stares back.


Rule #19: if you can't stun them with your brilliance, baffle them with your bullshit
Somewhat tongue in cheek, yet shockingly valid, this is a practical and audacious summery of the application of rule #18, and is not for the faint of heart or thin of skin nor the risk adverse.


Rule #20: fight for love
The bonds we forge have meaning, they have value, but only so long as we ascribe to them as such.

the past, present and future self, pt. 3

In many ways, there is none more ernest, committed or vocally supporting a person then one who had been converted.

I do not mean simply (or irrelevantly) a person who has found a religious (or political, but I repeat myself) ideal they have committed too, but rather in broad strokes, all things.

The human notion of truth, is powerful, yet our understanding of it, our perception of it, is terrifyingly flawed, and broadly self centered in bias.

Information, good or Ill, is not always factual, and facts are not always truth, yet truth itself, is the basis for all of the previously mentioned items. Yet without the attachment of meaning, or of value, truth for the sake of truth, is null in its effect on ones life.

Yet subjective as it all seems, truth is still the cornerstone of all growth and progress, be it the singular individual or the width and depth of humanity as a whole. A is A. Something, is what it is, even if it doesn't exactly look like it upon first glance. Light is light, warm is warm, and the opposite  of both indicates the absence of either, a rock is a rock, unless it's a turtle in hiding.

To say that people are complex is both true, and imperfect, because motives are simple, but reasons are not, people are much more than just the sum total of their own experiences, biases, culture or beliefs. In fact it is even deeper than that.

Why then, practically speaking, do we choose to further complicate things by choosing to lie? The motivational reasoning for such can vary person to person, yet the effect is almost always the same: chaos.

Be it to protect, or to cheat, depriving others of truth always ends in damage, exponential cost to self and others, and negatively impacts all that are in proximity to the lie, and/or the one lying.

Yet why for the love of sanity, do we default to it? Children teach themselves to lie young, and what is worse, is they are often too hard headed to stop, even when caught and punished for it.

I was terrible about this until I was around 16 or so, and even then I didn't fully break myself of the habit until I was almost 25. And as such, I dare say you may count myself as among the "converted" in matters of honesty. To quote my mother: "I don't hate people, but I abhor a liar." 

Yet, even so, honesty itself also comes with a burden, doubled when one is in concert with questionable people or proven liars. To Quote Jack Sparrow: "Me? I'm dishonest, and a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. Honestly. It's the honest ones you want to watch out for, because you can never predict when they're going to do something incredibly... stupid."

This implying that honest people who are always taken as honest, who suddenly chose to lie, are the most dangerous because they are both not good at it, and no one ever expects them to actually lie to start with.

Juxtaposing that with someone like myself, a convert to the truth, and I would submit that such people are the only ones to actually trust, because we know both the danger and the value of the truth, and of lies, and we choose one over the other, because we understand the consequences of going the other way, and if one is truly ethical, and holds no malice, then they will choose the truth every time. To summarize what King Solomon said in his book of Proverbs: Necessary are the wounds of a friend, but kisses from an adversary drip with death.

As Jordan Peterson has said in his book, 12 rules for life, "always tell the truth, or at least don't lie". This echoes the axiom of Mark Twain who said, always tell the truth, so you don't have to remember anything.

In so far as this all relates to myself and who I am now, and who I want to be, I now say this: I endeavor to always be honest with myself, and with others, to spare the compounding effect of lies upon consequences, and to foster a sense of reliability for myself.

Doing so also means I can avoid posible entanglements by warding off others who might not be as forthright or truthful, thus protecting myself from harm further down the line.

This also has the effect of drawing others of like or compatible ideals to me, and as such should hopefully bolster my efforts of self improvement by allowing others to surround me who have like goals and standards, who can help me, and whom I can help in kind.

It is, I humbly submit, the only moral way forward for anyone looking to be the best person they can or might be, and that failing in doing so is not wrong, but part of the process of learning, yet willingly choosing not to do so, will only end in misery and chaos.

I choose the balance of order, and freedom, honesty and growth. I choose not to cause undue harm to others with intent, yet make no excuse for insult for they who would act against me for selfish gain.

It is why, when I am being honest with myself, I can say that I wish to learn, to grow, and to achieve that which I have set before myself as a lofty goal: the reputation of a good and honest man, a faithful friend, and a terrible adversary, an advocate for they who need it, and one who stands at a line not to be crossed.

I have made great progress to this end, yet I know I still have a long way to go, a lot of work to do, and frankly, it is an end I know I will never fully arrive at, yet the journey is as always, the worthier part, and what I do not know, I will learn, one way or another.

It is who I intend to be, it is, my future self whom I hope to meet in my mirror one day, and whom I wish to present to the world at large, or at least my little corner of it..

the past, present and future self, pt.2

After an interlude, and having recounted the observations of my person, I now turn towards the analytical observation of who I once was, and attempt to sum the totals from the balance of my former self, as a means to understand and estimate the gross and net gain or loss of my current self, as a prelude to a later estimating of who my future self may end up being.

I make no assumptions that this will be a wholly unbiased or fully accurate accounting, but I do stand upon the premise that anyone or anything truly capable of such is not now nor ever likely to contribute to this blog or my writings as a whole in any direct or meaningful way either now or ever, if such a thing was ever even possible.

To keep this concise, I will only go back some ten years, to who I was when I first started blogging, and then work my way forwards, but where it applies, I will also point further back, where I feel it is necessary for contrast or explanation, as a means to underscore the more impactful changes.

The two most obvious and prominent changes that come to mind, things with which I do count as a loss, but not without compensation of a sorts, are my opinions and ideals regarding the concepts of loyalty, and romantic love, as my perspectives on both have shifted significantly and pointedly due to my experiences in relationships as well as my own deep research into the social, mental, emotional, biological and ultimately psychological motivations and distinctions between people, namely between men and women, but also between possible value systems and ideologies. The potential make up of an individual and what define their motivations and ethical parameters are rather staggering, yet it has also lead to a better understanding of myself, and shone a rather broken yet brilliant light upon others.

To date, I have had my heart broken three times, each time by women, once by a friend who I loved and I easily could have loved as something more, twice by women I loved romantically, one I came to love after entering into a relationship out of lust and desperation, and finally the other I came to love over time out of mutual respect and intellectual attraction.

In each instance my love, and loyalty was betrayed for what are, by my estimation, purely selfish reasons. Social media philosophy and self help inspirational quotes would justify such choices as acts of self preservation, yet the flaw in this is that to easily they can be taken, and rightly so I think, as little more than narcissistic projecting or neurotic deflection of the whole truth, or at the very least, in part, and the rejection of personal responsibility they seem to foster is subtle yet plain.

If nothing else they are a convenient excuse or glib argument to defend such uncivilized and destructive behavior. And while I am not in fact condemning any actual efforts of self preservation, I still maintain that such acts, both legitimate to such ends, and not, cost someone something, and to ignore that fact is truly monstrous.

All of that having been said, it should be of little surprise that my stance on the subject of loyalty is now rather blunt and simplistic: loyalty is a choice, and it should always be earned, refined, and reinforced, constantly so, because it is also a habit, and thus time and labor intensive, as all habits ultimately are.

My stance on love is rather similar, but with a greater focus on the effort and time.

Yet I also submit that for this to be true, an intrinsic value must be placed on such things as this, and this can only truly come about by having a sense of self worth, and sense of value for yourself and who or what you are, and might be.

Jordan Peterson has said time and again that you should, "treat yourself as someone you care about (or value)." And I think he is absolutely right about that, because I have encountered too many people who do not truly care about themselves enough to value much else beyond simple carnal hedonism, and dehumanizing and crass exploitation of others. Such people do not I think, truly value themselves, as such the only value they have is for shallow feelings, or other things external and impersonal, since they cannot manage to value anything else of greater importance, much less another person.

It is I think a more practical and detailed understanding of the golden rule, that which Christ claimed was one of the two greatest commandments, to love your neighbor as yourself. The word he used according to the source text, is the Hebrew word, "Agape" which is partly translated as familiar love, and also as the love of dear friends, as opposed to something like the Greek word "Eros" which is equated with passionate love, desire and even pure biological lust.

English, in it's never ending quest to simplify and consolidate words and meanings in pursuit of efficiency, has long ago merged all possible translations of love, onto a singular word, used interchangeably, and as such, some of the deeper power and meaning has been lost.

More is the pity.

For myself, such a loss is compounded when various forms and meanings of the word collide, becoming muddled into a wondrous and interlinked ideal that I cannot easily parse out into separate things once more, such as what happened with my now failed marriage. Then it becomes a soul rending nightmare, as has been documented elsewhere.

This now results in my ideal of love being far less romantic and mystical, and far more practical and dare I say mathematical.

Intrest + effort + intent x time + commitment - distractions = love

If any part of this formula is moved, left out or changed, the result is not love, or at least it will not start or end as love.

To quote Paul's first letter to the church in Corinth:

Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.

1 Corinthians 13:4-7, NLT

That sounds like a whole lot of work to me.

It was work I was willing to put in, and then some, and so long as I was receiving the just rewards and benefits of such a relationship and the love therein, I was content to continue on doing my part.

But when there was an imbalance in the relationship, I would suffer under it and attempt to right it as best I could. Until said efforts repelled the other person who had clearly grown to enjoy the flavored status of getting much more out of it than they were putting into it. At which point, betrayal was clearly  the only reasonable end to the relationship. No we can't be fucking responsible adults about it and calmly explain that we have no further interest in prolonging the relationship in a polite or at least straightforward and direct manner person to person. That is asking too much!

It is why my new ideals impose such rigid standards now. It's why I now resolve to cut my losses sooner and not drag out a ending, to prolong and frustrate a parting of ways, be it romantically or otherwise.

I refuse to put myself or others through such agony.

Thus, the naive and romantic youngman I once was, is no more, the cold hard and aloof if gregarious, semi-stoical, ethically pragmatic island I now choose to be as the result.

My former self is now dead, buried under the weight of my foolishness, my sins and the sins of others, gone but not forgotten, a warning for myself and hopefully others against the rigged game, an arrow pointing towards self-respect and truth.

And hopefully, a map that will lead myself towards someone better than I, whom I might one day become.

More on that next time.

I want to be mad at you (interlude)

But I can't.

No, I can be, but it never lasts more than a few moments.

You never actually made me mad until you left me, all but alone, I never was angry with you, until you snapped and lost your mind, accusing me of something I didn't really do, again.

The last 9 months of our marriage all you did was hurt and scare and disappoint me, made me feel unwanted, unloved, ignored...

But I know now, what I always suspected then, that it wasn't actually your fault, not totally at least, but you do hold some responsibility, because after all, you made the choices that led to the end, not me.

Whatever my failures (and I know them well enough both then, and more so now) I never quit on you.

I faltered, I stumbled, I dropped the ball, time and again, but I by God always kept trying, for you, for us.

I never gave up. NEVER I say!

I know I was not always right, I know I was not always bold enough, I know I didn't always listen, but God how I tired! I never quit. I never stopped. I never gave up... until I couldn't take your poisoned words and choices anymore...

I should have dropped everything, left work and rushed home that night. I should have kicked the door down, and told you the truth, that I loved you with all my heart, but that you were killing me inside, that you were not in your right mind, that something was WRONG and that we were going to get you help and fix it.

Instead I snapped back at you, via text, replying to your selfish cowardly bleating, your hair brained shit test, and told you to go fuck yourself, since you refused to fuck me. Your husband. Your best friend. Your advocate. Your true love...

Booze and meds do warp the mind, just as much as toxic friends and idiot "experts" do, and you? You walked right into the middle of that perfect storm and shit on me. And had the audacity to blame me for it all.

And I fucking let you do it.

And that, above all else, is why, even after I lost all respect for you, I still cared, I still cried, I still worried, and I still love you, even now.

Why I still whisper into the void, even now...

'Come back to me my love... come back... my love... my heart... my... friend... I need you...'

But you never hear me.

You don't want too...

You say you still love me, in your passive aggressive indirect way, but your lack of words, and your actions, say something else entirely.

'Drop dead'

That's all I hear now.

'I'm sorry, the heart you are trying to contact is no longer in existence, try unfucking yourself and never get close to anyone again. If you feel you have gotten this message in error, then stop being a narcissistic selfish cowardly cunt, and call your best friend back, and make up again.'

the past, present, and future self, pt. 1

Abstaining from both a mathematical and metaphysical attempt at describing time, and the imperfect human perception of it, I now turn my writing attention to the matter of self progress, and the evolutionary development of who, and indeed what I am, as it is in fact, the focal point of these writings, and this very blog. In a few pointed words, this is all abundantly autobiographical.

Please reader, be under no misunderstanding or false conclusions; this is not about you, or others that have been mentioned and discussed previously within, this is one hundred percent, without caveat, without excuse, and with all possible honesty and presence of mind, all about Me, Myself, and I.

The natural proclivity of humanity to progress, is undeniable, as is our confounding penchant to regress, consistently inconsistent, with immeasurable potential, is how I sum up our duality, and it is the only way I can quantify our capacity for both good and evil, and the extremes we are constantly exploring, if the widely published and recorded logs of our history are to be believed, even if only in part.

But rather than focusing upon the broad strokes and planet shaping things, I instead now turn fully inward, to the individual level, to the personal and the signuler thing by which I am the only true authority of, the subject of myself.

They, whomever "they" may be, say to properly tell a story, you must start at the beginning. This is true, because as linear beings, we as humans must frame things as such, we have a fixed point of origin, and a fixed point of conclusion, it is how we view and experience the universe, even when we do not fully understand nor appreciate what this means.

However, in the interest of time, clarity, and being concise, I will be focusing upon the things I have taken note of within myself, and compare them to things others have observed, and seek to render an explanation as best I can, and provide reasoning for myself.

I shall list now, such things in no particular order, and reply as I am able.

Kind,
Arguably the most common observation I have heard, moreso in my younger years than in more recent, I have always struggled with this because I do not fully think myself to be overly or pointedly kind, I have always felt that treating others with some form of basic respect and dignity was only right, if only because it is how I personally prefer to be treated, and so I always have attempted to treat others in this way.
And yet others find it remarkable that I do so.
I still to this day cannot understand why this is so striking a concept to others.

Stalwart,
A much more rare, but as such more pointed an observation that I have always chalked up to my own hardheaded stubbornness and personal decision to at the least, not be weak, if I cannot at all be strong. In my youngest days, weakness was the default setting, as it is for all of us I think, given early embarrassment at others perception of my weakness, I resolved to toughen up and be brave and strong, but the capacity to follow through would come much later, yet in the intervening years, my resolution turned my foundational willingness to always try, into such things, and becoming stalwart in all things, was the result.

Loyal,
It is I think fitting, that when the history and origin of my given name is dug into, the old Hebrew comes to 3 distinct, yet related meanings, incumbent upon the context of the usage of the word. Caleb, (Kay-leb or Ca-leeb) means Gentile or "outsider" as well as "faithful friend" or more the simple "dog" and it is, either ironically or not, one of the more prominent and defining traits I have been both lauded for, and lambasted and punished over.
Loyalty, for me, is a reasonable trait, both selfless and self serving, people who have shown me good will, favor, and kindness, as well as loyalty itself, tend to earn my deeper investment, and my commitment to them, and for myself, the idea of betrayal is anathema of the worst kind, no possible gain of any kind could ever be worth such a thing, the down payment of betrayal is something I am not willing to pay, yet it is also my observation that when I withdraw this from the table, it is a shock to the system for both myself, and others whom have grown accustomed to leaning upon my Loyalty, for both good and ill.
I would point out to such persons, that if or when the time comes where I recant my stated or exampled Loyalty, the question of why becomes rather much central.
It is a question I have only once in my life, heard another ask, and it was done so, to my great disappointment, indirectly.

Brave,
As often as I am accused of being Brave, I am equally confused as to why such an adjective seems fitting.
Bravery is clearly defined as being scared, but finding the will to act anyway, and the simple fact is that it is a rare thing indeed for me to be scared much of anything or anyone.
Foolish or ignorant or even uncaring of any possible danger is how I would qualify myself, needlessly fearless even, which is ironic to me, given how acutely aware of danger and cautious my natural mindset tends to be, yet as a result, I am also by nature canny in picking and choosing when and how I will act, after estimating whatever risk and benefit there is to be had.
I could not in good conscious thought ever attribute myself as being brave, but rather some odd mixture of calculating and reckless, if I had to put a label upon it. "Like a wolf, or a fox" is how I have repeatedly heard others describe it.


Strong,
Once more, as I have previously stated, confusion is my initial reaction to such a comment about me, mostly because I count it as a part of the whole of my person, in conjunction with all of the previously mentioned attributes.
Stalwart, or resolute are the words I would personally use, if not enduring, as I am intimately aware of my capacity to take punishment and to endure the blows life deals, yet I do think to encompass all of this, and see it as the core of who or what I am or may be.
Self serving or even selfegrandizing as it might be, I am proud of myself for being such things, at a base level, even when I am confused when others point it out, as if it was some rare or great thing, or even just a small thing they do not, or cannot see in themselves or others. That actually makes me a bit sad.

Gentle,
This is one attribute that I can and do acknowledge and accept, if only because I take such great pains and efforts to emulate it and behave as such a thing would dictate.
Senseless and pointless destruction or violence bothers me, wastefulness without a goal or a point, even if it is arguably a trivial one, frustrates and disgusts me, so when other people show such an easy acceptance or glib capacity for cruelty or waste, I am repulsed, and emboldened to be gentle and thoughtful.
I also fully believe that the true character of a person, and more so a man, is revealed in how he interacts with anyone or anything that is helpless when put before him.
Monsters, predators really, consume and destroy without thought because it is in their nature to do so.
A civilized, or good person, and again, more so a man, does not.

Charatable,
One of the earliest traits I can recall being observed about me by others, and one I did not fully realize until much later, is how generous and charitable I can be.
When I have a surplus, I find that I dislike hording it, and my natural proclivity crops up, passing on whatever sort of wealth I have, to others who seem to be, or appear to be, in need.
I think this is due to me empathising so readily with others, by thinking about how I would like to be treated, and then exampling it to the people around me.
Kindness rarely costs us more than a little time and effort, and even when it does cost us more, I find that aside from rare exceptions, it is always worth it in the end, for both parties.

Passionate,
Another trait that I have heard mentioned, that I fully accept and embrace, is my ability to have and express great passion, for both things, and people, from art, to my family, to the achievements of others, when something resonates with me, when I take delight in it, I find myself giving more and more of my energies to it, to enjoying it, some times to an excess, and so it is something that I am learning to guard myself in, not to deny myself or the thing, but to protect myself, and even others from my occasional overindulgence in the things I take joy from.

Insightful,
A matter of great internal debate for me, possibly no more than in the recent years of my life, is my ability, or at least my default setting, to analyze and pick apart and theorize and estimate.
A problem solver at heart, I do my best work when things go wrong, but I have also shown an apparent talent for predicting, with some not unreasonable accuracy, things before they happen, even if only in broad strokes.
Even so, recent major events in my life have kept me humble in my efforts, and I am once again, baffled in the comments of others when pertaining to my insight and perspective in things as they happen, or after they happen, or before they happen, yet the observations of my insight still yet abound.
If only I had insight as to why.

Blunt,
And?
Honestly, this is likely one of my most favorite personal traits, if only because of the brutal economy it can afford me, when I find myself dealing with a particularly large subset of personalities in my life, I take solace in my drive to be as honest and direct as possible, if only to save time, if not to dispel any false pretenses or inaccurate premises surrounding any particular situation.
My inclination towards honesty seems to keep me in the habit of being so direct, and given the ever degrading social norms of the last few decades, it seems refreshing to others for me to be so very plain and straightforward.
While I care not if it makes things easier for others, I do admit to understanding why it might simplify things for them, since it simplifies things for me to not sugar coat or obscure things, even if I am reticent to share every single thing I know or think, I am always willing to share some of it, raw, unfiltered and directly.

Caustic,
Sadly, due to the most recent factor, I have also been called unfeeling or caustic towards others.
This is due to the fact that I simply cannot be bothered expend the energy to do more than simply understand how others may think or feel, because I also cannot spare the energy or effort to offend with intent, yet because of this I also know that many times, I come across as caustic or offensive to others when I apply the direct method of which I am most fond, and also when this is taken in conjunction with me total lack of care for how or what others may think.
I simply do not have the time or energy to spare for it, not because I lack empathy, but because my natural level of empathy, is so normatively exhausting for me to corral.

Angry,
This... is complicated, if only because of how intricate a human personality can be, and how convoluted an endeavor (as clearly exampled by this whole blog I think) it is to break down a personality into small, bite sized bits.
I had temper issues in my childhood, which I quickly and rightly became ashamed of, and in my youth and young adulthood, I strove to bring to heel, and as such, I developed a method for managing my anger that is terribly simple; I let it go.
I gripe, or vent my frustrations easily, then move on as if it never happened.
For instances where my anger is truly aroused and awakened, I hold it tightly, and articulate it as carefully and accurately as possible, in the effort to keep it from spilling over or causing damage that might not be easily undone or repaired.
I am not always successful, but I can say with honesty, and more than a little proof, that my failures are far fewer than my successes.
My lack of an arrest record and a clear conscience being the most obvious arguments to support this.

Narcissistic,
This one bothers me greatly.
Mostly, because everyone I've ever known who has leveled this accusation at me, has done so out of two distinct places, that are, I have only just realized at the time of writing this, connected, feeding one into the other, more often than not; projection, and ignorance.
Hypocrisy and self-deception mandate the accusation of another, of the very thing oneself is most guilty of being.
If you are dishonest, then to protect yourself, and hurt another, you MUST accuse them of being a liar.
Part of classical narcissism is most simply defined as casting blame on others for things one has done, which is why I see the accusation of narcissism as a sort of tell or signpost that exposes the heart of my accuser for what or where it is, which is usually a place of need, to feed or soothe the ego, to escape blame for ones own choices and actions, and to claim some level of victimhood where none exists, or to over inflate any or all of the previously mentioned aspects as a method to insulate oneself from consequence.
As I am a staunch believer in personal responsibility, honesty, and do not hold myself in any great esteem, do not lay claim nor seek any grandiose status, and care little for what most others think of me, I cannot fathom any legitimate reason for anyone to honestly accuse me of such behaviour, outside of attempting to distract from their own.
At the very least, I think this is accurate, as I have yet to hear a consistent, logical, and reasonable counterpoint that could be proven by anyone who truly takes the time to know me.

Arrogant,
Another observation of myself that bothers me, if only because I know that there are times that it has been true, I can only say in my defense that I do not wish to ever be arrogant or needlessly prideful of who I am, and that I do try not to overestimate who I am, and finally that I always strive to be honest with myself and my attributes, both good and bad.

Selfish,
Of all the negative observations I have heard about myself, this one seems to me, to be the most contextual, in that much like the previously mentioned narcissistic claim, it always seems to be lobbed at me by someone who is in fact exampling such behaviour towards me, or at the least, as a rebuff to me when I do so rarely show such actions or choices as to indicate a level of self-interest that may inconvenience another, no matter how trivially.
There are a very few things by which I will hold tightly too or readily fight over, and they are things I value highly, and selfish or not, on the rare occasion I do, the question I always ask others at such times is simply "wouldn't you?" and that usually ends the discussion.

Old Fashioned,
For this, I personally take it as a compliment, even though it is mostly used as an insult.
Open minded as I am, I am also honestly, slow to change, and as such I clearly see and understand that sometimes, the old ways are the best, if only because on some basic level, they fucking work, and for me, that's all that matters.

Ignorant,
This is yet another complicated attribute, if only because we are all, as people, ignorante of something, and while my naturally inquisitive mind seeks information and knowledge, no one can possibly know everything, and as such, yes, there are times I am very ignorant, but I am not willfully so, and I am most assuredly not proud of it when I am, and I forever am seeking ways to remedy it when I find it to be true.

Unyielding,
Stiffnecked, willful, stubborn. Yes, I am, and I am well aware of it, and truth be told, I am at times proud of it. Yet I am also aware of when it is the wrong thing to do or be, and as such I do endevor to widen my gaze, and take pains to yield when I find it to be the right thing to do.

Brutal,
I wholly own this, because as I have mentioned before in commenting on previous traits related to this, I am who and what I am, for some very good reasons, and in the end, when I find myself in certain types of conflicts, I hold true to the idea that the most humane, kind and civilized way to handle such events, is to overwhelm my opponent, to attempt to bring the conflict to a quick close, so as to shorten the time of suffering, since I think drawing it out needlessly is masochistic and detestable.
Therefone, when I feel that a situation calls for it, I am brutal, and I do not shy away from this.

Misogynistic,
Realizing that men and women are more alike than not, and that there are in fact distinctions and differences between males and females, and that they are few, yet weighty and very fucking (in every possible application of the word) important, and that as such, they need to be considered and understood, does not mean one should see a gender as superior to another, far from it.
For myself, it only further underscores the idea of "equal but different" and how true that is, and it is why I can say that men are better at some things than women, and vice versa.
Because its very plain that we are meant to fill differing roles at differing times, and that we are meant to compliment one another, rather than compete with one another.
Yet, for some illogical, distasteful, insulting reason that no one has ever been able to articulate for me without the words "hate" or "envy" or "oppression" or "patriarchy" I am somehow labeled as a misogynist by so called "educated" or "enlightened" or "woke" individuals for my admittedly old fashioned yet upgraded views.
Too bad I can't be bothered to give even half a fuck.


Childish,
What is the point of being an adult if you cannot sometimes be a little childish?
Given levels of maturity I've been accused of since I was 12, I honestly am incapable of commenting further on this observation.

Cruel,
Usually partnered "Brutal", "Selfish", or "Angry" I don't think I need to comment further on this beyond the following: "I only treat others as they treat me, after I grow tired of my efforts to do better have been ignored."



Such is what others have said of me, and how I would reply to them, here and now.

This having all been said, I end now with this: I now, and for some time, have always had in mind, the higher good, for myself, and for others, and in more recent years, I have endeavored to behave in such a fashion as to grow the positive and shrink the negative traits that I have observed, yet I do not claim to have any advantage in doing so over anyone else, I'm just doing good to work on me, even as I estimate and appraise others, I have learned not to compare myself today, to someone else tomorrow, but rather to seek to be better than myself yesterday.

If you take this as in insult, then I must clarify that it is wholly upon you to bear that burden, I'm doing good just to carry my own.

How to identify projection, in both self, and others

"nosce te ipsum."
-Know thyself.-
~Plato


 Projection. 

 It is the most basic, yet insidious form of coping mechanism humanity has ever evolved. 
 But what exactly is it, and why for the love of donuts is it so damned hard to identify? 

 This is actually, in my own personal opinion, rather much an easier thing to get a handle on, than most people make it out to be, and in my own life I have found that identifying it makes for a metaphorical ammunition press that never seems to stop giving you rounds to fire off, if you are of the mind to do so that is. 
 Knowing when to shoot, and when to stay in cover, is also somewhat of a learned skill needed to use this to its greatest effectiveness. The trick is however, in knowing whose name is on which bullet, to keep with the allegory a bit longer than necessary. 


Firstly, let me explain what I mean by all of this; Projection, is as the word clearly implies, the casting of something from one place to another, usually within the context of images, or more simply, ideas.
In the psychological context, it means to take something internal, and to personally externalize it onto someone else. In the most basic of ways, you are projecting your own thoughts or feelings or reactions, onto another person, most likely in an effort to either explain something about them for yourself, or as a coping reaction to diffuse a disruption within your own cognitive processes which you cannot reconcile.

It has been said that it is easiest to find our own faults in others, and this can been proven true time and again, as varied levels of hypocrisy can be observed between people where fault finding becomes normative.

We can most readily identify things we dislike about ourselves in others, because we recognize it, however, when one is projecting, this becomes muddled, and far less clear.

Hand in glove with this is of course, is fault finding, wherein one will focus upon negative traits or behaviours either in oneself or in others, and harp upon them needlessly. You know what your weaknesses and shortcomings are, but do you truly know what the same might be in others? Honestly I doubt it, given how much we tend to hide, as a means of protecting ourselves, others have a much harder time seeing or understanding our innermost selves, and how can you know the struggles or stories behind the scars and behaviours of another at little more than a glance?

All this is born of the root failure of not taking personal responsibility for ones own thoughts, choices and actions, and the results thereof. What is much more damaging, is when the time and effort is put into a relationship, only for this to be betrayed by the other (or by yourself) by way of exploitation of the weaknesses and hurts, as the saying goes, the closer you are to someone, the deeper you can bury the blade.

Yet, the projection of such personal things onto another, is at times, equally as damaging. To be accused of behaviours, mindsets, weaknesses, shortcomings or choices of which are misconstrued, unrealized, misplaced or outright untrue, is its own sort of damage, and it is the trick of playing upon our universal fear of the unknown that drives this home all the harder.

Think about how shocking or hurtful it is when someone accuses you of the very thing that they themselves have done? How much more so when it is something that you have actively avoided doing?  
The doubt and fear takes hold, the question of how valid the accusation might be can carry great weight. "Did I really do/say/mean that?" "Did this really happen?" "Am I the bad guy here?" "Am I actually a monster?"

Such questions are necessary to ask oneself, and can indeed be helpful long term, but when it is a false accusation or misleading query, it instead becomes harmful to self. A knife is useful for cutting your food, it is much less useful as food.

What is worse, the projection of self onto another, is a shortcut we as humans use to speed up the cognitive process, we humanize things, and others by projecting traits onto them.
And how easy is it to project our own traits, be it consciously or subconsciously? 

A machine, like a car for example, may be humanized by way of a gender label, most often female, most often by a noun, or even a name, a pet, is humanized in a similar way, to help with internalized inclusion and to accept behaviours we might not otherwise understand.

This is all well and good, but when we do so in a negative light, it suddenly becomes dangerous for ourselves and others.
Water is essential for life, but you don't give a thirsty man a drink with a firehose... More to the point, when we ascribe our own negative behaviour to others, we are pushing off the burden of responsibility onto them, as a means to protect our frail ego from the necessary introspective honesty, by which we might unfuck ourselves and stop our own selfish, and self destructive behaviour. 

But straightening ourselves out is hard work, it is uncomfortable and we often avoid it because of this, so why not project our vile motivations and actions onto others? Its easier than looking hard in the mirror and saying "I need to stop being such an selfish unmitigated asshole to my partner."

Indeed, the blissful ignorance of our own conscious thought process means we can ignore the more abstract, yet somehow more honest subconscious, by focusing upon something external to distract us, rather than dig deep within ourselves to better understand who and what we are, or who or what we might could be. But by not knowing, we duck our burden of personal responsiblity.

When we don't know ourselves, we find a sort of vague equilibrium, a metaphysical space where we are all potential, anything is possible, and the sky might not be the limit, but the dark secret of such a state of mind or being is that we lack direction, or a goal, and as such we can never be disappointed, because we haven't tried to do anything.
This also means, internally at least, that no one else can be disappointed in us too, because we have yet to fail. But this is as I said before, ducking personal responsibility. The most harmful way we do this, is by ascribing our own behavoure or faults or imperfections to someone else. I cannot say why we do this, maybe the abstract, subconscious mind simply must make space in our head, and thusly must trick the conscious mind into to venting personal observations as something else, onto someone else when we choose not to dig into ourselves in an orderly fashion, and figure out how to go about setting ourselves right, or at least making ourselves a little better if no less terrible.

What seems to make this whole process toxic however, is an overabundance of negativity and faultfinding by which a person is metaphorically drowning in rampant accusations, exposition of character flaws, past insults or wrongdoing, redged up from the imperfect archives of human memory... For young children especially this gives an example and sets a pattern of habits that are long term, dangerous at worse, and simply heartbreaking at best. 

Without me going into the whole breakdown of child development, I'll once more point to my exwife: her mother was a fault finder, a hypocrite and projector. Any problem, any inconvenience, anything she didn't like, was someone else's fault, and she was going to by god tell out about it, and what was more, she could never understand how everyone could just simply treat her so terribly, when she had been nothing but a selfish raging narcissistic holier-than-thou dishonest ungrateful bitch nice to you and everyone else around her. Honestly, the nerve of some people, daring to confront her with the monumental damage inconvenance her, or seek to tell her the honest truth offend her for such strange reasons because she is a selfish child leaving chaos in her wake that, she cannot understand.

It would be rather funny (its not) if it was not oh so sad and utterly terrifying. (which it clearly is.) Yet she would offer all of this toxic input, dispensing it like it was candy, to anyone unwilling to tell her to shut her cock holster, or at least to stop bothering and abusing everyone by tearing down others with her selfishness.

Everyone is entitled to their opinion, and to share it, but repeatedly handing out verbial beatdowns born of your own unwillingness to admit that you might have issues, is pure and simple abuse. It is, the projection of yourself (and your brokenness) onto others, backed with intent, must of which is to simply make yourself feel better in the moment.
Social Media has become a pressure cooker of such behaviour, and as the most recent events seem to indicate, the lids about to blow off, and frankly, I doubt any one of us has a mop big enough for the kind of mess it could be. And I know most folks don't have the fortitude or willpower to endure what would follow.
Not even 100% sure I do, but I'm more than happy to find out, everyone else? Not so much.

Back to the topic at hand however...

A typical narcissist will blame others, for their own bad behaviour, a skilled one, will blame others for shit they themselves have yet to be caught at, but the truly damaged narcissist, will completely push their own behaviour off onto another, paint that person as the actual narcissist, and then claim victimhood for themselves, as if they where an innocent bystander, or set upon hostage, rather than not only a willing participant, but an active one as well, refusing to acknowledge their own hand in the events leading upto the latest shit storm they leave in their wake, and furthermore, will blame the victim for being the instigator if they should ever stand up for themselves against the actions and choices of the narsissist. All it takes is just a little bit of blissful ignorance, a refusal to accept responsibility, and just enough selfishness to be tone deaf to everyone around you.

Being on the other end of that equation, especially if you are the kind of person who willingly, gladly takes on the burden of responsibility, is akin to getting your reproductive organs hooked up to a car battery once a month while angry (insert your prefered, culturally inappropriate person group to joke about here) beat you in the face with baseball bats wrapped in popped bubble wrap.

And this is not to say it cannot or is not ever a 2-way street, far from it, but if both sides are playing the same game, by the same basic rules, the only conflict I can foresee, is having separate outcomes in mind.
But then, if it is not a 2-way street, knowing when you are being detrimental and when you are actually standing up for yourself, is a whole new level of complicated, as I found out in the waning year of my marriage.

I shall not cover that here again now.

Understanding how to know yourself, how to self evaluate and regulate, will be key in not projecting your shit onto others, and maybe, it might force you to fix it yourself, or with help, but in either case, it is not a small burden. It is not for the faint of heart, weak of will, or childish of mind.

On the dangers of manipulation, being manipulated and manipulators, Pt. 3

In the proceeding 2 entries, I have broken down some of my most pointed observations of people and situations (namely the death of my marriage) where manipulation is rampant.

To close this, I will attempt to compare and contrast that situation with another, namely a situation wherein I myself, attempted to manipulate another person and circumstance for what I thought at the time, was a noble cause, but in retrospect, was for almost wholly selfish reasons, and thankfully in the end, my efforts failed spectacularly.

In my now defunct first blog, nearly 10 years ago, I had a post, one of my early ones that gave a very poor and biased summary of a friendship of mine that had ended badly. 

It is to date, the single most viewed post on that blog. 

By a huge fucking margin I might add.

Given the groundwork laid by the previous 2 entries, in regard to my marriage and divorce, I will now commence with the comparison and contrasting, by tattling on myself in a way, to help bring full circle, this personal exposition into the perilous hazards of manipulation, and the utterly catastrophic damage it causes to all concerned.

Christina, was one of my first friends I had made when I started College, way back in fall of 2005, and I was introduced to her by Johnny, whom I had a passing acquaintanceship with from working at a church summer camp a year or two before, and with whom I had reconnected during my first semester.

At the time, Christina was dating, casually at least, another guy named Jason, whom I also became friends with. The four of us, all had a love for music, food, fellowship and our shared faith, and this brought us together via the Christian Student club, which we all were members of.

But as the next few years would play out, I would find myself in a game of wits, will and cunning that I was terribly unaware of, and only after realizing what some of the rules were, would throw myself into fully, committing to actions and choices that I never fully felt comfortable with, either at the time, or even now.

The lessons learned from this, stick with me to this day, and have only solidified parts of my personality and internal standards.

Christina was younger than me by 3 years, meaning she was 16, and I was 19 when we met, both of us approaching our next birthdays in the coming November in our first year of college, Christina the over achieving girl with a difficult past, who knew exactly what she wanted, and myself the socially awkward homeschooled guy with a learning disability I was fighting to overcome, the hard way, and no real clue what I wanted to do beyond a vague notion.

Over the next year, we became fast if tumultuous friends, our shared love of music and performing the focal point of our relationship, and a mild and humorous penchant for provoking and antagonizing yet supporting one another a prominent feature in our ongoing dialogue.

All the while however, Johnny, who was also a fixture in the social mix, was unknowingly manipulating the both of us.

After 2 semesters Christina broke up with Jason, due to a less than ideal level of romantic chemistry, but they remained friends as he was part of our circle, and the music was the glue that held us all together, with Johnny subtly guiding and directing us all.

After a semester single, I was only mildly surprised when Johnny and Christina started dating, and in truth mildly jealous as I had grown fond of Christina myself and yet was unwillingly developing deeper feelings for her. It was not long after, that I started to notice some of Johnny's less subtle efforts at controlling the context of the circle of friends (including others, but mostly made up of himself, myself, Jason, Christina, and two or three others not directly relevant to this) and the nature of the development of the shared friendship. Even so, Christina and I had become close, and as time passed and the circle started to fluctuate, she and I started to confide in one another more and more, and for a season, we became best friends, even as Johnny, sunk his hooks deeper and deeper into Christina, and carefully shepherded me into a position to support his designs, all the while, I was decreasingly, blissfully unaware of his efforts, until I grew moderately suspicious of his intent and methods.

It was not until Johnny proposed that I became alarmed, feeling that something was amiss, but the only reasonable explanation I could articulate, was that things seemed to be moving rather quickly, recklessly so, but it was not until their wedding day, that I finally knew something was profoundly wrong.

I can recall that event, even now, only in snatches of clarity, fragments of sound and sights, a few faces that stand out in my memory, but I remember, at last, knowing how very false it all felt, how almost hollow and facade like the event seemed, how it was some sort of stage production rather than a happy and joyous event.

It was the same day as my birthday.

I remember putting myself into a performance mindset, of making myself say and act in a way that I felt in no part or form as true.

I remember that for but a single heartbeat, when the traditional words: "let any who object to this union speak now, or forever hold your peace" where uttered, I almost frantically searched for someone else to do so, or for some divine signal that I should, I felt my jaw unlock, and the words "stop! I do! I object!" rush up my throat and down my tongue, only to be bitten back at the last second by my own teeth, an ulcer forming instantly on the inside of my lip.

Even now, I almost wish I had possessed the fortitude to actually have said it.

It might have spared me the devastation that was latter to come.

I remember how, I one of the Bride's best friends, had been all but shunned during the whole event. Barely more than a dozen words spoken to me directly by either bride or groom. In a rare moment of unspoken understanding and solidarity, Jason and I shared some punch, and something passed between us, some kind of understanding and kinship we had never before or since had, a moment of silent clarity, and horror. It all seemed to come together into a simple if veiled message pointed straight at my heart: "you are no longer welcome with us, we don’t need you" and we both felt it.

I and my parents and sister, who had started to also become friends with Christina, were the first of the guests to leave.

In the parking lot of the church, as we got into my mother’s car, she made a comment that I still to this day recall with mild agony: "Well, that seemed like quite a show... There is something very off about all of it. Like it was not for her benefit."

She then looked to me, and saw right through my crumbling facade, and asked me if I was okay. 

I replied with "I don't know, but I don't think it matters anymore."

The look she gave me, is one of the most heart wrenching I can ever recall, even to this day, after my father died.

My father, quiet as ever, hummed in agreement with my mother, but did not see my reaction, and only offered this in reply to me “I hope you do better son, and happy birthday.”

It somehow mollified me.

Christina had taken that fall semester off from college, to work and get married and the next spring, transferred from the community college we had attended, to the local state school, where Johnny was already an undergraduate, and I did not see or hear from her again, for almost six months.

Six whole months of void. Never before had such a long time passed between us without some form of communication, a phone call, a text message, an email, or even a comment on the then still infantile Facebook or the once and nevermore more popular myspace.

It was during this time, that my online relationship with Alexis was in its prime, and only Christina was even vaguely aware of it, but it was also during this time, my rivalry with Kristen had peaked, and then transformed into a grudging respect, and then working relationship, slowly morphing into a steady if mild friendship.

I lost myself in the writing and roleplay forums with them, ditching classes I was suddenly no longer interested in, classes I should have aced, I was suddenly falling asleep in, other than Acting and Music, and everything else just became dull and pointless to me. I bombed two of my five classes that spring, Public Speaking, and Geology 1, the latter of which alongside Philosophy, I dropped and only got good grades in Acting 2 and Guitar Ensemble, which I could no longer get any credits for after that spring.

I would take it at least once more, because I loved it so much.

And then the major and most active of the Forums, where I had met both Lexy and my Exwife, was suddenly and without warning, shut down, and deleted by the creator, without explanation. Alexis explained that the founder, had suddenly grown tired of it, and as he could not devote any time to it any more, he wanted to be rid of it, but rather than pass the baton to others much more willing and able, he selfishly wiped it out. Dozens if not hundreds of connections between fellow writers and fans of fiction and pop culture were suddenly cut off.

It was a hell of a way to end the spring Semester.

Over the summer, I worked odd jobs, until I landed a job working at a large shoe and accessory retailer near the mall, but it was going out of business, and so the job would not last to the end of the year, but it was good for my resume and work history, and it was extra gas and food money for me. My relationship with Alexis however had passed its zenith, and I was not keen on admitting this. She was going to college in Manhattan soon, and I knew her well enough to know that I would not survive this, our relationship could not survive it, but I selfishly held on, and started trying to manipulate things in my favor, under the pretense of trying to protect her.

Enter once more Kristen.

Having found a copy of a message she had sent me just weeks before the forum had been shut down, I followed the link to her own forum she was building, and quickly reconnected with her there. Our friendship restarted and Alexis soon joined us in writing and discussing things.

But the end of my internet romance with Alexis was fast approaching, and Kristen, now a solid friend, soon became my refuge, as most of my other friends in college didn’t know of the virtual double life I was leading, and even so, were leaving me behind.

As fall once more started, I returned to school, as much to roleplay online, as to study and learn, but to what end I still had not figured out. I lost my job at the shoe store due to the manager covering his own ass and blaming me for his incompetence, and I was mildly despondent, as the economy was starting to tank, at the end of the G. W. Bush administration, and the housing bubble finally popped, and oil prices suddenly skyrocketed out of control.

By the time summer was about to end again, I had managed to get a shitty underpaid job at a local Laundromat at that time, and was only taking one class, Audio Production 1, which I was enjoying and doing rather well in, and then, out of the blue, Christina called me, asked me if I wanted to hang out. I said yes. We had lunch, and I knew something was wrong, but for the life of me I could not figure out what. Even so we parted on good terms, and promised to meet up again soon.

But then August came, and Alexis, on the cusp of going to the big city for college, lost her biological father, barely a year after having reconnected with him. It wrecked her, and I managed to muster all of my resources to fly up and comfort her for a long weekend. But with that stupid, heroic effort, came consequences…

The cat was out of the bag, Alexis was official, and yet now that the secretive nature of our relationship was in the open, it only fell apart that much faster.

My parents were flabbergasted, my friends and family mortified and dismayed.

I was defiant.

I was also stuck.

Alexis, went off to college, and I dropped out.

By October, Alexis and I were fighting constantly, breaking up and taking one another back every week until finally during Halloween, I’d had enough, and was starting to distance myself from her, my efforts and manipulation having failed, as had my awareness of myself and how Kristen was gently exploiting things post online free-for-all between her and Alexis had ended with a confused but sour taste in my mouth, pushing me away from my now forever exgirlfriend, and to my now exwife.

Then, Christina called again, and asked if I would like to go to dinner and a movie with her and Johnny, I said yes, because I was frantic for some sense of normalcy, so we agreed on a movie, and a time, and dinner afterwards, but on the night I showed up to their home (Johnny’s parents home that they were long term house sitting) I was somewhat surprised and mildly alarmed when just Christina came out, and informed me that Johnny had a last minute business dinner to attend and would not be joining us.

My gut sounded the alarm, but I untrusting of it after the shit show of my own making with Alexis, ignored it, and justified it as fine, because I was a gentleman and would not cheapen or impugn my friend(s) marriage by doing anything untoward. And so I didn’t, at least, not directly and not with intent.

Movie, the Book of Eli, dinner, On the Border.

Christina and I talked like it was old times, and while it was nice, I could tell something was off, she was dressed just a tad too nicely, and her attention was always guarded, as if she was expecting me to do something, but in honesty, I had no clue as to what.

After dinner, I took her home, and there was Johnny, working away on his computer, ready to greet me. We talked some, I played them a song I had just finished writing, and then as it was late, I left.

The whole night, bothered me, and I cried the whole way home for reasons I still am not fully sure of.

The next day I recounted it all with my mother, who asked me what I thought about it, and I told her I had no clue, other than it felt like some kind of test, but that I had somehow failed.

In her wisdom, my mother summarized it for me by explaining that I was not the one being tested, but Christina, and that Johnny was dumping his own responsibility upon me for that night, because he knew he could trust me not to do anything dishonorable, and as such, he was somehow punishing or testing or manipulating Christina.

I was floored. How could a man do this to someone he claims to love?

Then, not two weeks had gone by, and Christina was reaching out to me again, this time, for support, she and Johnny were on the outs, she could no longer stand him, his controlling manipulating ways, or the neglect and abuse he was subjecting her too. She was suicidal and felt abandoned. I rushed to her side like the good friend I was…

In the midst of this, Alexis had come crawling back to me, and I redoubled my efforts in manipulation, frantic to have her back. I was so despondent at being alone I was willing to forgive her anything, but not without caveat.

I had taken up smoking in earnest now, and by the middle of November, was going through a pack every four days. As I had never been more than a social smoker prior, it was not long before, I was up to almost a pack a day, and miserable. I was also drinking rather heavily whenever I could get away with it. I was hiding my vices as well as I could, but I knew my family suspected, yet I could not stop.

As birthdays and holidays closed in (Kristen’s the 15^th, Christina’s the 21^st and mine the 29^th) Christina and I became suddenly closer than ever before, she confiding in me that after only six months of marriage, things had gone from ideal to nightmarish as she struggled to finish her degree, and Johnny became a workaholic, and then, he for no apparent reason, admitted that he had manipulated and entrapped Christina into marrying him, seducing her and taking her virginity before their wedding, to ensure she did not wander, leveraging her faith and beliefs against her, and then that not a month after he had started his new job, less than three months into their marriage, he had partaken in an affair with a coworker he had known previously from college, because Christina was not yet fulfilling his sexual needs to his likening.

In both blind, betrayed fury, and sheer boredom, she had not one, but two affairs, one with a coworker of hers, and another with her neighbor who was half way through his own divorce.

She then started taking anti-depressants, moved out of their shared apartment, and in with her mother and brother, and took up smoking and drinking.

For three weeks, she and I where closer than ever.

Time and again, we would meet up at a bar, an Applebee’s in Irving, ironically just around the corner from where I and Kristen would eventually move just before our divorce, was her haunt of choice, she ended up taking at least one water and one bartender to bed with her, causing a massive rift between the bartender and his girlfriend, a waitress at the exact same restaurant, a waitress she actually tried to hook me up with. If I had not been committed to trying to extend or salvage my relationship with Alexis at the time, I might have taken her up on it.

At this time however, Alexis was rebelling, and stressing me out to no end, and on top of that, she was convinced that I was going to abandon her for Christina, which I tried to convince her (and myself if I am not wholly honest) that it was not likely, because Christina was just my friend. Even as I secretly harbored feelings and a want for so much more than that, my still resolute moral justification was that I could not possibly allow myself to develop further feelings, even if I wanted to. Even if I already had.

But then, during week three of our time spent eating, drinking, smoking and hanging out, she started to invite me over to the townhouse she was sharing with her brother and mother. A small two bed place, cozy for one or two, downright crowed for three, yet with her brother working nights, her mother days and Christina working only part time, she had a refuge that she could hide away in. three times she invited me over, once, just to sit and talk, once to watch a movie, Pan’s Labyrinth, which to this day I can only remember parts of, and lastly, once to just sit, talk, and comfort one another. We sat out on the porch and smoked, drinking bottles of blue moon, and talking, until the very early morning, and at last, I said I needed to get home, as I had a few chores to do before work the next day.

I do not recall what the exact subject was, but as we wound the conversation down, she suddenly stated, bold faced and proud; “Honestly Caleb, I think you just need to kiss me and get it over with.”

My brain short circuited for a solid five seconds. I know because I counted them. It was all I was capable of.

Looking up at me expectantly, Christina gave me a look I would not, could not have ever before previously pictured her giving anyone, a look of rampant desire, hunger, and daring. She was testing me. Boldly, defiantly, beautifully and totally.

As to if I failed her test or not, in that moment at least, to this day, I have no clue, and honestly, I really don’t give a good goddamn.

In the pale, dim glow of the porch light, she was suddenly the most entrapping and enchanting creature I had ever encountered, and before I could even think to stop, I leaned in, my eyes locked on hers and I whispered; “Are you sure you want that?”

“Of course, but what do you want?”

Not two speed metal beats later, my heart slamming a staccato drum beat in my ears and sinuses, in the single weakest and supremely selfish moment of my life ever, I leaned in and gave her the full outpouring of my long denied and pent up aggression, desire, and longing, my hands crashed to the door frame, even as I bounced her head off the door itself, my lips not so much touching, as invading hers, her whole mouth welcoming me and my assault like a dying woman partakes of water, her tongue instantly exploring me, the ashy aftertaste of cigarettes mixing with the citrus tang of beer, and the floral flavor of her lip gloss, and that indefinable aroma and taste of a woman’s mouth drew me in, and by the time we parted, gasping for air, we where both flushed and blushing, her chest heaving, the fact that she had not worn a bra clear to me with her nipples trying to tear through her tee shirt, much like my thundering erection was trying to break the zipper of my jeans was clear to her.

We laughed nervously, feeling the long standing sexual tension between us not melt away, but suddenly erupt into a weight that fogged our minds totally. I jokingly asked her how it was, and she mumbled something about me being “highly adaptive” before she crossed her legs and took a deep breath, her hand falling to the door knob, her blue green eyes smoldering with greedy hunger, the faint musk of her arousal dragging at my nose.

Suddenly my better sense kicked in, and I felt like someone had punched me in the nose. I softly stuttered something out about how I had to go, and she just watched me in total shock and awe, as I stumbled down the stairs, light headed and utterly confounded.

In my car, and literally beat myself in the face, cussing myself out for both betraying Alexis, and for not grabbing a handful of Christina and dragging her into the apartment to rut her until someone called the cops on us.

To this day I can’t say if my bleeding nose was from before or after I had punched myself in the face.

The very next night, I was back at her place, and we talked, for hours, confession our sins, our secrets, our fears and hopes to one another, until we ended up making out and cuddling in her brother’s bed.

Finally at one point, she told that we were not going to have sex, and I replied “duh?” before not an hour later, asking her if anyone had ever actually made love to her, rather than just fuck her. She said, that no, no one had. I kissed and held and rubbed her, and she returned the favor, and I knew then and there that if I pushed, she would have opened herself for me and given herself to me gladly.

But I didn’t. She was still legally married, and I was still in the midst of a failing internet based long distance relationship that was on its last legs.

Once more, the white knight within me, refused to budge, and the outlaw within me, was not yet willing to play so carelessly with fire.

I finally stopped, and just held her until she was almost asleep, and knowing myself, I carefully extracted myself from her and the bed, and told her that I would see her the next day, and we would have dinner and just talk.

The next day I made a comment on social media about abusive and selfish people, pointedly not naming any names, but making it clear that I would hurt them.

It was a thinly veiled threat to Johnny, and anyone who knew half of what was going on, knew it was what I meant.

That night, after I had already go to the restaurant, looking for her, she would text me, telling me that she and Johnny had decided to try again, and that she could not be “that kind of friend for you” and when I asked her what exactly she meant by that, she couldn’t explain. I told her to fuck off, and to never contact me or my family ever again.

She never did.

Two days later, Alexis and I broke up, for what would end up being the final time. It was not until later, sometime before I proposed, that Kristen admitted to taking advantage of information Alexis had been feeding her, when she comforted and consulted me during a 3 three week, train wreck of a breakup.

I got hammered one night shortly afterwards, drunk dialed Christina, Alexis and apparently Kristen, and generally made an ass of myself, damaging a friendship I had made with a couple that knew my boss at the Laundromat and had befriended me. I was later able to repair one half of that to the point of reasonably restitution, the other half vanished into whatever bottle or butthole he wanted at the time.

Throughout the whole of that chaotic and painful three month time, from Halloween till some point before Valentine’s Day, I was constantly trying to manipulate people, people I did care deeply for, namely Christina and Alexis, but Kristen, I left alone, even if she herself leveraged things for what she wanted, which was mostly, at the time, for me to get away from Alexis, but her motives were not so pure and altruistic, and it was not until later during our engagement that I understood that, and not until much later, during our divorce, that I realized the true depth of it.

In this all, between us all, Johnny, Christina, Alexis, Kristen and myself, I can only say that one of us was truly a villain in any reasonable measure, and that of course was Johnny, for his rampant ego and arrogance led to him practically breaking and enslaving Christina, stealing from me my then best friend, and a girl I think I could have loved with all my heart but for the rest of us, who can really say? All any of the rest of the four of us wanted, was to be promised love, care, time and attention, and in the case of myself and Kristen at least the desire for that to be not just for self, but for another, was if nothing else, not completely selfish.

But it did not stay that way. Not for both of us at least.

Now, ironically, comically, Alexis and I are again talking, no romance, but more of just light and friendly communication, like old friends passing in the street, she is in a good relationship, after the end of her first marriage, raising her daughter with her partner, but too gun shy to commit to anything more, and I am once again also single, too burned and disgusted with my own foibles and the failings of my longest, and best friend’s betrayal in ending our marriage.

Johnny once, a few years ago just before my engagement to Kristen, reached out to me, entreating me to restore some form of relationship between himself, Christina and myself.

I wish that I told him that overtures where empty, and that real, actual restitution would be needed, and that given the context given at the time of the end, only Christina could actually make it happen, and I would need word from her that it was what she wanted.

Instead, I asked him why, and he claimed that it was time to restore the relationship. Given how he had always treated me as a friend of convenience, I was skeptical, but willing to extend an olive branch, but with the caveat that he and Christina would need to be in agreement on the subject before I would move forward with any such efforts, so as not to place any strain upon their own relationship, or burden upon any of us in the matter, and he agreed to reply as soon as they had spoken on the matter.

Neither of them has contacted me in the 8 years since.

At a moderate point in the midst of that whole mess, while I was temporarily broken up with Alexis, but just before the kiss with Christina, and her betrayal of me, my mother asked me, if I felt that I could ever love Christina, if she divorced and left Johnny and then allowed me to pursue her, even with all of her baggage, and damage.

I was rather much taken aback by this, as my mother had always been almost hostile towards her until just before she married Johnny, and my answer was an honest; "I don't know, but I wouldn't mind finding out if given the chance."

In hindsight, "perfect" as it almost never is, I think that it is true in principal, if not so much it seems in application; I could never marry a woman I was not close and intimate friends with.

This could in large part, be accredited to the relationship my parents had, which while far from perfect, was if nothing else, built upon a shared faith, a solid and dependable friendship, and good old fashioned cast iron stubbornness. They had both been married once before, and had decided individually, and together, that they never wanted to go through the devastation of a divorce again. They simply made it work, no matter what, even if it felt like it might kill one of them.

It never came to that of course, but even so, the almost 40 years they were married, until my father’s passing at the end of 2018, was a testament to the idea that a worthwhile relationship, was worth the struggle and effort.

And that safeguarded them against the manipulation of others in a way that I am terribly jealous of.

In this all, I have found that I am ill suited to the role of manipulator, in matters of relationships, interpersonal politics, actual politics, and social function, intelligent, informed, articulate and experienced I might be, I am yet still highly instinctive, direct, old fashioned simple even, I am forever my father’s son, and I am a blunt instrument. Dexterous perchance, but having a glaring lack of finesse, I cannot abide manipulators, in any shape or form.

For myself, and my romantic relationships, and the results thereof, I have naught but scars, ruins, and resolve to show for them.

And amazingly, somehow...

I am perfectly content with that.