Joseph Jarrett

By now, you guys know that every time I sign into this blog, I’m going to spill my guts. Maybe I treat this as a diary of sorts, but at least the people who read it can relate. That’s why I want to be even more vulnerable than I have ever been before. In Mishaps & Mistakes, I opened up about a lot of amazing things and a lot of really shitty things. Today, I want to share with you a short chapter that I scraped from the final version. I’ve thought about saving it for another book down the line, but who knows if it’ll even be relevant by the time that happens. I’ve revamped it a little to be more current, but the general idea is timeless (in my opinion). So, without further explanation, here you go.

Chapter X

Oh, the Loneliest Heart You’ll Ever Know

            At the end of the day, I have the most beautiful life. I have met the most brilliant people the universe has to offer. I’ve seen places that don’t even seem like they could be from the same planet as me; they’re just that beautiful. I’ve made memories with strangers, with enemies, and people I’ll hold dearly forever. Yet, for some reason, my heart still longs for more.

 I don’t want to sound selfish or ungrateful, because I don’t think I am. I don’t feel like I am. Despite all of this beauty in my life, I feel so far behind. Sometimes, I feel so lonely, like no one even sees me. It’s unfair to my family and closest friends who love me unconditionally. But I’m closer to thirty than to eighteen, and there is so much missing from my life still. I’ve wondered how I can still feel so unfulfilled when I have so much good in my life.

Here’s the deal. I do not believe that I have ever been loved romantically in the way that I have loved. And I truly mean that. I do not believe that any of the men I have told you about ever actually cared. At least, they didn’t care in the way that I wanted them to or the way I deserved. What do I believe, you might ask? Maybe I was blinded by the idea of being in love. Maybe I was too naïve to be able to tell the difference between love and lust. I barely knew half of these men after all. How could I love someone that I don’t know? Tell me, please, anyone.

Can someone tell me, honestly, of course, if I watched too many movies? Did I listen to Taylor Swift’s music too intensely for my not-so-developed frontal lobe to take? Looking back, I actually feel kind of stupid for having such intense emotions about almost or could have been relationships. But if all I do is beat myself up for it, then I completely disregard my humanity. I should feel so incredibly lucky that I am able to feel everything at the capacity I can. I have met some pretty stoic people along the way, and I could not imagine being that cold or withdrawn. Actually, I’d never want to be that person. Who am I if I don’t do it with my whole heart every time? It’s a question I ask myself anytime I start to feel like this. It was one of the only good tricks I learned in therapy.

There have been too many occasions where I’ve thought about asking people how far they were willing to go to stop loving someone. I was so far down in the dumps that I’d rather not love at all ever again. If I could find a way to save myself from that kind of hurt, I’d do it. Call me a coward, a hypocrite; I don’t care. But until you experience that level of pain, you could never understand why someone would want to get rid of it so badly.

If I could go back in time, I’d never tell Gabe I loved him; I never would have even given him signs. I’d never give up my virginity to a man I never talked to again. Maybe then I’d have a little more respect for myself. Maybe I’d have a little more dignity than I feel like I have now. Is that so horrible to want? I gave up so many facets of myself to people who were never meant to be in my life long-term, just momentarily. And I cannot take that back. I have to live with that for the rest of my life. I have to hold onto those regrets for giving away the most sacred parts of me for nothing. Nothing at all. All I have to show for it is a collection of pages. Pages that contain my innermost thoughts and feelings. If I could give up my body that easily, I might as well give my words, too, right?

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So, there you have it. One of the lost files of Mishaps & Mistakes. Well, part of it at least. There’s plenty more where that came from. What do you think? Are my feelings valid? Are they relevant to my current life or to yours? Are we one and the same or are we polar opposites?