Eric, you love so incompetently. With two left feet your heart does beat. You're very confused, and it's okay. No one knows what they are doing. I know you're rejecting that statement, but listen, other people pretend they know what they're doing. You fail obviously due to your frankness.
This transparency is not a bad thing.
You went through a period of time, in which, I believe you had your heart broken for the first time. Don't reject that one, either. It sounds cheesy, but you know it's true. You can now relate to a multitude of things you were unable to before. This isn't entirely good, but it's not entirely bad, either.
Anyways, this period of time has also left you stronger. I don't believe you will be putting up with as much junk from people anymore. Now you know to wait. That isn't the most important lesson you took away from it, though. I think your new-found ability to simply hesitate, and understand that something may not happen, and understand that if it's meant to happen, it will, is what is profound. You're second-guessing again. You're telling yourself that this is a conclusion many people have reached, that it isn't special. It IS special. Don't listen to that bullshit voice. It's special because it is a vast discovery in the universe of you. You now feel it, understand it viscerally. It's no longer advice from a friend. You know it, now.
Eric, I love you. You're loveable. It takes a while. But it will happen. The universe will align one day, and set in motion a series of events in which you will begin a journey of knowing someone. You've done it before successfully. Remember that. But this time will be different. You know how.
Relax. There are people in this world who love you right now, and there are people who will love you in the future. God loves you, too. You have more love than you need. It's a gift.
I tell you to keep cool. But you know, you don't have to keep so cool. Don't expect things to work out with this new person. We both know you're fully aware of this having an absolutely equal chance of being nothing, but keep at it anyways. There is no harm in what you're currently doing. Please don't make the mistakes you made last time. I love you and don't want to see you hurt like that again. Keep at it. Be yourself. Don't play a game. Know when to quit (Eric, you know what I'm talking about. Don't date people you're incompatible with, beliefs-wise. Has that ever worked out for you? No. It brought you stress.). I'll be honest, Eric, I have a voice in me telling me you will have to quit this one. But love out of it, anyways. there's another voice saying you won't. so let God take it in his hands. One awesome thing about this life of ours is that he's your co-pilot. If you lose control, he's always going to be there to back you up.

you know what else, Eric? I know your chest is sinking thinking about this not working out. Hah! So early, too. Good job getting rid of that "emotionally dead" bullshit. Anyways, it's okay if it doesn't amount to anything! That's what's so fucking awesome about this. If it doesn't work out, it's because there's something better in store. Literally, Eric, your only job is to keep doing what you're doing (enjoying life), and just wait. Waiting is such an easy task, my friend. All God needs you to do is recognise when it's not the right time, and simply move along.

I love you, Eric. You need to hear that from me more often. I'm sorry I'm your worst critic.

Lately, I question my life and I have to wonder how things would play out if I said goodbye to religion.
Now, I am a Theist, and I always will be. I can't accept the idea that matter came from nothing, and there have been times in my life that I swear to God, he was intervening. But it's the religion that gets to me. I love Jesus, but why did he die for my sins like he did? Why did he have to? Why would God require sacrifices? Why am I held responsible for those sins? Why would God allow an infinite hell for finite sins? Why are victimless things, such as homosexuality, sinful?
It makes sense from a sociological standpoint how religion would benefit people. Creating a religion gets people to do things that you can't get them to do. If you tell them the almighty God says this is the best way to do something, it motivates them more than you telling them, because you are not powerful to them.
One of the biggest factors that causes me to hesitate on changing my ideology is my fear. If I say Jesus is not my savior, I am not a Christian. According to my fellow believers, I am no longer one of them, and am going to burn in hell. That is a special kind of deep rejection. However, it is a necessary one to acknowledge. Why should this fear dictate my faith?
It is an understood concept that the simplest solution is most often the truth. I feel like making this religion make sense requires extra steps and exceptions. I feel like I have to twist my natural inclinations in order to make it work.
I wish I could just pick and choose. But I know I can't, and this brings me a great sense of unrest. It is highly plausible that the bible is untrue and true in some areas. Which are which?
Perhaps I will use the bible as a source for promoting true love. Perhaps I will just have faith in Jesus and say he is the son of God, because he said he was. If I choose this stance, however, it is a personal choice, and I don't really believe I have an obligation (or right) to evangelize it.

Oh, Eric, prince of the mundane. How fanciful one finds one's self! This volatile ride riddles one insufferably insane sometimes. The peaks of peril have proved unworth the lengthy bouts of boredom and banality. Boundless! It truly is. A whisper of inspiration will infiltrate my mind only briefly before fluttering away again.

You were such a waste of time. I feel like a fool for being strung along. but oh well.

There are two pains:
One of what was,
and it's cousin,
what never was.

There is the pain
of fools, who
misunderstand,
and that of the wise,
who understand.

Samuel has recently started college. He thinks he wants to graduate with a degree in digital media design. I think that's perfect for him. We don't get to have quality time often, though we do keep in touch on Facebook. I embarrass him online whenever I can :-).

Sam recently told me Emma is doing fine. She may have failed me, but she did do a good job with him and Peter. I try to put the fact that I was robbed of being there for them aside. It makes me bitter to dwell on. Anyways, Peter is doing well, too. Junior in high school. He's got a girlfriend now apparently– a little Korean girl who is into break dancing. Sounds like fun.

Seeing Sam was truly the highlight for my week, though. We went hiking together. I am proud of his his exuberance, reliving what I once lived. Such a lanky boy, but a healthy kid. Taller than I was at 18. He's got his mother's eyelashes and thick, wavy blonde hair. He's wearing it a bit too long these days. I've been tempted to feel unhappy he resembles her, but he's got my dark and stern eyes, so I will say I've won this round. Kid's got a miserable little excuse for a beard, too, though don't tell him I said that. It's pretty patchy with red spots here and there. If he's anything like me though, he will be a viking in no time.

Sam told me he's never had a girlfriend before. He isn't too happy about it. I tell him it's not a worry, but I think he will ignore his old man's advice like most young men do. He doesn't need to experience the pain of women yet. I don't think he is ready, anyways. He's very idealistic. He needs to combat life on his own for a while, make some mistakes, make some decisions. I have a strong feeling he's going to be a good one though– not make some of the mistakes I have made.

Lumenase 2, the essence of your life.
Shoot up, reboot you and rid you of strife.
No other drug in merely a drop will give
such love, such virile and the will to live.
Mystery as to what wonder's within;
What magic is held in such a small tin.
Tired of sorrows and eager for change,
Drug me and leave me in stupor deranged.

My footfalls ring throughout the trees,
with no echo amongst them all.

The field before these woods had stretched as far as eyes could see.
Unlike this creeping, creaking forest which now surrounds me.

Any way I look I see archetype trees.
Every one I've seen thus far; identical to these.

There is no change of scenery, no promise of an end.
Should peril meet my hapless self, no alert could I send.

The uniformity, once nice,  has grown to bring me fear.
The sheltered canopy, now a shroud, no longer welcomes me here.

Some days, I simply don't feel like existing. Please do not mistake my sentiment for suicidal tendencies. I feel that there is a sense of narcissism in suicide. That, and such a desire to be a a pitied victim, that one is willing to sacrifice everything for it. This take is merely my opinion.

But I am not particularly given to drawing attention to myself. I am an old man, and I simply feel. I wish now, to feel less. There is no efficient remedy. So I wait it out. It is a shame at this age I still must play the waiting game. Each minute has grown exponentially more valuable to me as my years increase, and yet the amount owed for the illness of my life remains the same with no compensations made for my benefit.

Life is so unfair. But what worth is fairness when it is distributed among the wicked and undeserving? I wish my feelings would be in sync with my mind. I know that every experience, every individual, every object I come by and may call my "own" on this world is a gift to me, a lucky little speck of chance blown my way, and yet when they are taken from me, I feel denied. I bargain at the air as if it would make a difference. I need to learn to let go of things. I am ashamed and sorry, to admit that one of the defining characteristics of Eric, is that he can't let go. He can't be content with what he is given and relieved of. What is the use of such tenacity?

h

When I was born, my mother said I had a head of hair. She looked at me with my angry purple skin, she said that I was ugly but she loved me even then. She worried that my father wouldn't adore me when he saw, he was working until 8, and I was born at roughly 6.
Sure as dawn he saw me and he gazed down at the floor, he flickered a half smile but that was it, and nothing more. He knew that hints of youth had been extinguished by my birth. He congratulated my mother with a nervous lack of mirth.
1 year and 4 months later is when I was told I'd become the man, because father took his clothes and left us, never to be seen again.
My mother, Eva, died when I was 21.