It’s been a little too long since I’ve posted anything worth going public about. It’s not that I haven’t had anything to write about, or that I don’t have any motivation to write. I have plenty of drafts written up but nothing I’ve ever felt like finishing. This is one of the few that’s been important to me for awhile now.
For the past couple of weeks I’ve been slowly working on my house. After the first three months or so I became content with whatever was in it. Rather than spend any time and effort on improving it, I took advantage of the comfort I found in coming home from work with a halfway decent house.
When I was a kid I always had this image in my head of how I wanted my future house to look like. It looked like the prototypical house at first, then I started adding things I liked from the things I saw: wood floors, enormous windows, kitchen with an island, a master bedroom with king-sized bed, etc. If you’ve been to my house, then you already have an idea of what it looks like. I can tell you this much, it’s nothing like I imagined it to be.
Now I’m not trying to sound ungrateful, or take a giant dump on the countless blessings I’ve gotten in the past year and change. What I’m trying to say is, I settled. I worked my ass off to get where I am and for whatever reason, I became content with the life I had been living. Yes, I wanted more. But did I want to work for it? Not really. So I relaxed, and bought into the idea that everything I had was enough for me. And I think it showed in other aspects of my life that didn’t just included what I did in the privacy of my own home.
My relationship suffered. I stopped going to church. I went to the gym less frequently. Indulged in more video games. Didn’t call my parents enough.
I did enough to just get by. It was a shit show.
I went to the funeral of one of my nursing school teachers a few months ago. I remember a lot of my classmates not liking her, but I appreciated the time she took to get know us personally. She went beyond the teacher-student relationship, and she became friends with those of use who reciprocated the efforts she made. Her mother spoke at the service, and as good as my memory is, the one thing I could remember was how they had not spoken for a significant amount of time. Her mother never reached out to her because she had always thought there would be more time. “You always think that you have more time. You don’t. Don’t take advantage of the time given to you.”
I listened.
Over the past month or so I started working on my house again. I ripped out the carpet and installed laminate floors. I started furnishing the extra bedroom downstairs so my pup could have a room to play in any guests would have a bed to sleep on other than my couch. I installed ceiling fans and lights in the rooms that didn’t have any, so I wouldn’t have to walk around in the dark anymore.
I realized I wasn’t doing enough in my relationship and that the girl who put in 100 with me from the beginning deserved a lot more than I was giving her. I didn’t want to waste her time, not anymore. I know it’s easier to say this now that we’re looking back, but if you’re reading this, I appreciate everything you’ve ever done for me. I’m sorry for the fights. I’m sorry for being content. I’m sorry that you and I weren’t it for each other. But the silver lining that comes with the end of our relationship is the greater possibility that you will find someone who is much better to you and for you. I can only hope for the same.
Time doesn’t wait for anyone. It keeps moving. It’s ridiculous to believe that putting off your problems will one day make it easier to solve them. Time is the most precious thing you can give to someone, because there’s no getting back. I killed a lot of time in 2015, and unfortunately not just my own. I got married to the idea that it was enough, but it wasn’t, and it won’t ever be.
Work on it.
darylkris 