1,000 Paper Cranes: Day 1 (and 2?)

I thought I would start off strong, fold for hours, and produce great results.

I was wrong. Crane count: 2.

But it ended up working out perfectly for me, in a way.

I chose to come out of isolation and socialize instead. I spent quite a bit of time with two people who are important to me, laughing and enjoying ridiculousness. It felt divine.
How long had it been? I don’t even want to guess. I was just happy to lay aside complicated history and current circumstances and self-doubt. I was happy to just be, with people who knew me. The deep thoughts from that day and the conversations of the next are exactly what I wanted while folding.

It’s after 4am, I’ve got a single song on repeat, and I’m ready to spill my guts

I was in a call with my adopted daughter, describing a friend of mine who passed away before my daughter and I met. She spoke three words that linger in my mind.

That’s True Love

True love. They say it, they sing about it, but how often does anyone actually know it? Have I? Whether platonic or romantic, was it, in fact, true love?

Yes, I’ve had it.

Anyone who knows my past would think I was about to talk about that one guy I couldn’t fall out of love with for fifteen years. And yes, I loved him. I loved him to an insane degree. I poured my soul into him, believing his was my mate. He seemed to feel the same; I was still in his heart. The intensity of our connection was something all could see. Surely this was true love?

Close, but not quite. From the beginning, I put this man on a pedestal so high that I couldn’t quite see him. I took what I saw and filled in the rest with legend. I believed in my story, sang it up to him and made him believe it, too. Yes, I loved him deeply, madly, but it was not true. It was a combination of him and my own design.
And he, he loved me, at least what he could see.. but much of his focus was on the serenade. He loved my story, but his love wasn’t true. He loved only the legend and the mind that made the lie.

So many lies with so many guys.

But one man stands out. He knew me, I knew him. We may not have known all the details, but they didn’t matter – we were friends and loved each other unconditionally. We loved what we could see and what we couldn’t. We loved what we agreed on and what we didn’t. We loved all versions; past, future, and present.

That’s true love.

Years after he has passed, I still feel him with me. True love that lasts beyond death.. It exists, and that means it is possible again.

---

Thank you, my friend. Although you’re gone, you’re still the one I lean on.

1,000 Paper Cranes: Preface

A few days ago, I was sitting in my room, feeling very single, when it hit me – a thousand paper cranes.

A belief exists that a person will be granted a wish if they fold one thousand origami cranes. Do I believe in such things? Not exactly. Am I skilled in origami? Not at all; in fact, origami is very difficult for me and will likely hurt my hands quite a bit. I don’t even really have the money for the paper.

So why?
Honestly, sometimes, beyond all reason, something just feels right.

So, I’m going to fold 1,000 paper cranes, and I will wish for love.
I don’t know how long it will take. I don’t know how much pain it will cause me. I don’t really expect anything to happen at the end of this all. I am curious how it will all turn out. What emotions will I go through? How much effort will I put in each day? Will I start believing? With I find the hope I’ve lost somewhere along the way? Will I change my wish at the end? Will I even finish?

Only time will tell.

It all starts tomorrow (today)!

Patterns

We all have our patterns. Some of these are comforting. Some give us structure. Some are harmful.

I have a habit of self-sabotage.

It all starts with an idea. Whatever the idea, I somehow think this will help me, give me the freedom and life that I need.

Then I start planning. I get psyched and dive right in. Then it overwhelms me and I start to drown in it. I go through these feelings a few times.

After a while, I get to a point where this can become a reality. Everything is in place and though it may not have gone smoothly, it has happened.

Then I fuck it up.

Sometimes right before the change, sometimes right after, I do something reckless to ruin it for myself. I tell myself that it’s the right thing, that it’s following my heart, when it’s really my way of failing on my own terms.

This conflict becomes a Hell that I struggle to turn into Heaven for far too long.

Finally, I’ve had enough. I let go of my demons and work to come up with an idea.

And it all starts again.

NO!

I’m not doing this again!

As much as I love the excitement of following my impulses, I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t keep lying to myself and pretending that my actions are not motivated by fear. It’s time to stop holding myself back.

It’s time to believe in myself.

I have a plan. It’s coming together. Every day, I’m tested. Every day, temptation tries to pull me away from my goal. Every day, part of me wants to give in, change my plans, follow my impulses. This part tells me that it must be fate intervening. It takes coincidences and decorates them in attractive colors and shiny gimmicks. It takes a few words and writes them in the sky. It swirls petals around my feet, sings a song of thunder and lightning, blows gently against my lips, lights a blaze inside the hearth.

But I must resist. I must see these things for what they are; moments of beauty too pure to last. I must cherish them, but walk away before I see them spoil.

I must keep moving forward.

And I can. I can. I will. I will gather my strength and resist the urge to cling to these precious souvenirs of hope and love. I will keep my goal in mind, never allowing the distractions to become deceptions.

I will make it.

I just have to believe.

Delete Delete Delete

I am finally, after 34 years, at a point where I am truly myself. No masking, no diluting, no persona to take control. And I want to show that, I want to help people see the real me… but there’s only so much they want to see. It differs with every person and it can be difficult to find the line.

Open up
Delete delete
Spill my guts
Delete delete delete
Say hi
Delete

I don’t know how to interact with people.

But I’m lucky, you know? I’m lucky because I found a few whom I truly fit with. Who, even when they don’t completely understand me, accept me. Adore me, even.

I don’t have to delete anymore.

And I guess that’s really what I need to follow. Not the ones who make me feel like there’s something wrong with me. Not the ones who make me wonder what they think or feel. Not the ones who keep me at arm’s length. The ones who show me that if I were gone, my absence would be felt.

Those are my people.

Those are the ones I won’t leave. I’d walk through Hell with them, without even being asked.

For the rest, I’ll simply fade away.

Numb?

Ever since I was young, I had a switch that I could flip in case of emergency. This switch took emotion out of the situation. No matter how much worse things became, I didn’t feel it. I was detached, cold, numb. This allowed me to do whatever was needed, in order to survive. Those who knew me well, could tell I was not myself. I faked it well for those who did not.

At 16, this detached version of me received a name: Roxy Jones. Roxy was seen as mysterious, intriguing. She was daring, as she felt no fear. She also felt nothing for those who grew infatuated, so it was common to see a trail of heartbreak behind her.

While this emotionless state was definitely useful, it also had its consequences. Without heart involved, it was easy to dismiss others. This could include ignoring them for any length of time, bluntly expressing indifference, and/or cutting ties with no explanation. Any action that best suited the current needs was quickly taken, without regard for others or even my own future emotions.

She smiled, but there was no warmth. She fought with unmatched strength and determination. She had a goal and would attain it, no matter the cost.

It could also become extremely difficult to come back from. Though it was known what emotion should be felt at any given moment, it was not quite felt. Using music and other passions, there would be constant attempts to summon true emotion. Usually these methods would at least cause a wanting for emotion. Eventually, something would get through to me and I would slowly come back to Life.

She saw the world as it was; a list of necessities and rules for gaining them. In memories, feelings were seen only as insignificant details. She knew, however, that I was still within her; watching, readying myself for my return. It was her duty to protect me, but she knew I would never lie dormant for long. Even when she resisted, attempted to suppress me, a loved one would reach me and I would pull myself out.

The most recent time this switch was flipped, it was more desperately needed than ever, more control was given over, and it lasted longer. Without the support of another, I alone had to bring myself back to Life. The struggle was lengthy and felt impossible, but I refused to be defeated.

She reminded me that I was alone. She reminded me that the world was painful. She made me wonder if I could make it on my own. I met each of her negative reminders with one of beauty. The joy was enough motivation. The passion for Life was still within me.

A few days ago, the world began to bury me once again. This time, I decided, I would be prepared. I asked my dearest friend to contact me after some time, to help inspire my return. I informed others that I would be absent for a while, to limit contact and so prevent negative social consequences. Then, I stepped back, relinquished control.

Only… This feels different. I have distanced myself, but do not feel truly disconnected. I cannot detach. I still possess control. Emotions, though quieter, are still felt. Others’ are still considered.

She’s gone. She’s really gone. It’s all on me now.

From now on, I’ll have to fight for myself.

Silence

I’ve not had much to say as of late. I have mostly been searching through the silence. I had surrounded myself with noise for so long, so I’d not have to see what lies in front of me.

I am reducing the clutter, so I can see what is important. It is not easy… I have held on to these for so long, it is difficult to accept that none of this amounted to anything. I know, though, that it is all weighing me down. How much more will I give to something that is never to be?

It is time.

It is time to make room for something real.

It is time to embrace the silence, so I can welcome something meaningful.

And I wish for help, someone to hold me accountable. I wish for caring sternness, so I will not falter. I know that I cannot have this, not yet. I must find all within before I can find it without. This knowledge is accompanied by fear, guilt, and overwhelming self doubt. Even so, I will fight on.

I may fail. I will fail. That will not stop me. As long as I can find the silence, I still have hope.

One day, I will not be alone in the silence. On that day, I will finally win.

Friends.

My friends are my everything.

The people I know I can reach out to, to talk shit, get my mind off shit, or ask for help dealing with shit.
I may not always do it. I’m a loner and am not good at reaching out. But I know they are there.

The people who appreciate me.
They call it out or keep it silent, but I know they do. I know that my absence would be felt, that my presence makes a difference.

The people who check up on me.
When they notice some negativity, silence, or distant behavior, they reach out. They check in. They make sure all is well. Not with ulterior motives, but honestly FOR ME.

When you grow up surrounded by hatred, it can be difficult to accept love. It feels uncomfortable, disingenuous. Even if you do your best to be a kind and true friend, it doesn’t seem possible for others to be the same.

BULLSHIT!

Bitter, broken assholes have lied to you! The “nobody would care if you died” and “you are the most worthless thing” and “no one’s gonna love you; they’ll just lie to get something out of you” are nothing but PURE BULLSHIT.
YOU ARE NOT UNLOVABLE.

YOU
ARE
NOT
UNLOVABLE.

True Love exists, platonic and romantic. It’s out there, yours for the taking.
And I know this may be hard to accept, but

YOU FUCKING
DESERVE IT.
💜

I wouldn’t say I’m doing “well.” Things are rough. I’m having a hard time coping. But it’s a lot easier when you know your friends have your back.

 

⇐◊⇒

 

And I know some people see things like this and think, “Ugh, this emotional shit again.”
This is who I am. If you haven’t made peace with it by now, I doubt you ever will.
Don’t let me bring you down, just let go of me and move on.
I will not be offended. I love who I am, but I’m not for everybody.

And I absolutely will NOT
mute
dilute
change, or
be untrue to myself
for anyone.

 

Dear Cupid,

I just want a guy who’s cool with me wearing a fake mustache to the store
but also knows how to pay bills without his mommy’s help.
Is that really too much to ask??

I love life. I love being able to gain joy from even the most boring of tasks. Sometimes it’s “Hey kids, we’re going to have a silly hat day!” Sometimes I push a bunch of buttons in the toy aisle. I tell dumb jokes. I like watching people play video games. I buy cheap things impulsively. I talk to animals and sometimes inanimate objects. I make random noises. This is me.

I recycle. I pay my bills before buying anything else. My kids come before me in everything. I don’t take what I don’t need. I don’t lie. I don’t play mind games. I don’t break a promise. I show loyalty. I have integrity. I have empathy. I don’t have addictions. I keep my priorities in check. I am constantly soul-searching, to always keep growing as a person. This is also me.

I don’t expect my significant other to be like me. They don’t have to have my sense of humor. They don’t have to love Marvel Comics/Studios. They just have to enjoy these qualities in me.

They do, however, have to show some responsibility. They have to be able to be their own person. They have to be honest. They have to be loyal. They have to have priorities that are somewhat close to my own.

In the past, I have found people who enjoyed me and were inspired by me. They were great with the fun part, and wanted to be able to take more control in their lives, they just didn’t know how. I was happy to try to help them.

But it got too hard.

If you’re still trying, I will never stop fighting for you, for us. Ever. It’s who I am. I will not give up on you. But if you give up on yourself and I can’t help you come back from that, I have to walk away. I don’t have the time or energy to waste.

They always give up.

Yes, my life is very real. I can be very intense. I love with my whole heart. This can lift me up or sink me. Every single thing I do is out of love for someone or some thing. I get that it can all feel a bit much sometimes and my way of lightening up the tension might not be shared.

But does the other person’s always have to be unhealthy?

I just want to share my life with someone who wants to live a full life. There will be sadness and anger, but there will be overwhelming happiness as well. It will be real. It will be genuine. It will be something you can look back on in 50 years and think, “Man, I really lived.”

That’s all I want. I can do it on my own, but it’s not the same. Even if that was fine for myself, I want my kids to have an example of true love.

I haven’t given up hope, but it is so hard to hold onto sometimes. There has to be someone out there, he’s just so damn difficult to find.

“Come to me, whoever you are; I cannot find my way to you.”

 

Love.

There are some people who are okay with not finding their forever in another person. They live their lives and find peace and joy in their family, friends, personal hobbies and successes.

I am not one of those people.

I had to take care of myself at a young age. I was neglected, and had many responsibilities that no child should have to bear. For all the damage that did, it also made me fiercely independent.

I love being independent. I love taking care of myself. A born rebel, I love making my own rules and tossing conformity out with the other trash. I have always been a force, and you cannot ever take me lightly.

Being so independent, I used to feel guilty for wanting true Love so desperately.

But, fuck it. I want it. I won’t be 100% complete without it. And that’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Yes, I still love the way I do things. I say I love being single, but that’s not necessarily true. I just love not having anybody hold me back. And everyone, every single relationship I’ve been in, has done just that. It’s made me mute myself, then lose myself.

So how do I make sure that doesn’t happen?
I think only the right guy for me can prevent it. Someone whom I will fall for, who will accept my good days and bad. Someone who loves my strengths and weaknesses. Someone will hold me close, so I never get lost again.

But is he out there?
I don’t know. I honestly don’t know if he could possibly exist. I know what I don’t want, what I can’t handle, and if I cross out anyone who has those qualities, commits those actions, I’m not sure there will be anyone left. I may think so for a moment, but people lie and my soft heart wants to believe them. I can’t keep wasting my time, my energy, my love on these people who just aren’t right. And I can’t trust myself to know whether they are genuine.

So does this mean I won’t try?
Absolutely not. It may get me in trouble, put me in difficult situations, but I always follow my heart. Always. If I let my head take over, then I just wouldn’t be me. Even when I try to convince myself that my true love doesn’t exist, I soon find someone who gives me a shred of hope. I get “close, but not quite it.” Then it fails and I swear off relationships, saying I’m great on my own.

But not this time.

This time, I’m going to be completely open and honest.

I still want to share my forever.

And I will be living my life, single and independent, but I will also be watching. I won’t give in easily, but I know someone will come and make me want to take a chance. Maybe it will be the right guy, maybe it will only be a lesson that brings me one more step closer, but it will happen.

I hope it’s you, Love. I feel ready for you now. I understand so many things I didn’t before. If you’re out there, somewhere, waiting for Someday, don’t give up. Give me a sign and I will come to you. I know it’s hard, because the rest of the world can’t fully comprehend us, but if you’ll just keep fighting, I will too, and we will find each other. We have to. Just don’t give up. Let’s have our forever.