Well, I got an appointment for my cat for Friday. Friday morning he will go into the Rock Island Animal Hospital for surgery. My poor little kitty. I know it sounds odd and I will try not to turn this weblog into a shine to my cat but he means a lot to me. I have had him for a good five years. He has never been an extremely affectionate cat but every time I am sick in bed or feeling down on myself he would spend the whole day in my lap. When a new person comes to visit he will most likely be found hiding under my bed but he can spend the day following me two steps behind just so he can sit in the chair next to me as I play solitaire and drink my coffee. For those that have lived with us both know but for those who haven’t trust me when I say he is exactly like me. Just having him around is very cathartic. But for a while now he has been getting sick. When I took him into the vet he was saying stuff like he had an immune system failure and that some of his blood vessels had burst. So now his ears have swollen and he has pus leaking out. I tried to give him his medicine today but his ears where so tender and bulging that it was impossible. I know I am probably over reacting but I have been so stressed out lately. So not only has he been sick but now I have to find a way to pay for his surgery. Just once I wish things could be easy. Anyway, get well soon kitty.

I have gone through many changes in my life. In the beginning I was a lonely child. From the second I was thrown into kindergarten and forced to join society I knew I was different. Inevitably, as kids often do, I was treated accordingly. An outcast from day one. I was on the outside looking in. so what else could I do but watch? And I will admit it. I wanted to be them so bad. So, I studied them. Made note of how they interacted with each other. Their laughter, tears, anger. After awhile I could, with some degree of confidence, tell what a person was thinking or how they might react to a specific situation. I did this all in the hopes that I could find a way to gain their acceptance. But in the end I was either to afraid of them to execute my plan or to proud to change just to have a moments peace from them. What ever it was, and in spite of all my work, I was still alone.

But round about sophomore year of high school I found out that I wasn’t the only freak in this world. Not only that but they were just as lonely as I was. So, the only next logical course of action was to, in one complete swoop, cure what ailed us both and become friends. I, at long last, belonged. The cruelty of life had turned us into bitter, cynical, smart-mouthed degenerates. We all hated the world that had thoughtlessly thrown us to the way side. But thanks to the pseudo-family unit we formed we came to an astonishing conclusion. Before, when each of us existed separately, the only thing our world told us was that we were worthless pieces of shit. We were rejected because, while everyone else lived full, happy lives, we were broken. We didn’t deserve the same care and respect as the rest of the world. But together we found, though we were different, we were still human beings. Just as entitled to the same joys and comforts as the next man. We also found that though we lacked the sparkling social skills, or the sculpted body, or the strong attractive facial features we made up for it in talent, quick wit and intelligence.

This was an extremely important discovery for me. Because of them I was no longer completely alone which figuratively, as well as literally, saved my life. What else could I do to thank them then to see to it what almost happened to me never happens to them. Their happiness was my number one concern. Their safety was my gift to them. I had to be strong when we were all tired. To be brave when we were all afraid. To be confident when we were all lost.

And as time passes we grew up.

Then it was time to leave the nest. We all went our separate ways. I looked around and I was alone again. I should have seen it coming. I was saddened but that’s how life goes. So, I wished them the best of luck and hoped that all my care would aid them when they found themselves alone. But now what was I to do. I put all my energy towards them to make sure they were as safe and happy as possible. But now I was a superman without his metropolis. And though I tried to avoid it the only person left to deal with was myself. So I forced myself into seclusion. If I was going to deal with my problems I had to face myself with nothing but the skills I was born with. I looked at it like this. I could go out and seek help from someone else, maybe even my friends. I know that they would be happy to do it but what would happen when they left again? I would wind up at the same place I was now and still not know what to do. No, if I wanted this done I would have to do it myself. But old habits die hard. Especially the bad ones. It was one of the scariest things I have ever done. I knew there was a possibility that I couldn’t solve my problems and that I couldn’t handle myself which could end up in total self-destruction. But I made up my mind that I had no other choice. If I couldn’t live with myself living at all wasn’t worth it and wasn’t in my future. So, I had to look into the eyes of that scared, lonely, sad child that I once was. Tend to his cuts and bruises, wipe away his tears and hold him and tell him he was loved. Wounds may bleed then heal but they will always leave a scar. So maybe I won’t become the well adjusted, carefree, loveable soul I always wished I was but complete and utter self-loathing was no longer an option.

Now, I am a packrat by nature. I can’t help it. You never know when a used Band-Aid from the late 80’s may come in handy. And no, I am not keeping boxes upon boxes of crap in the hopes that they will one day become retro and hip again. I keep them to remind me. I have collected many things over the years. Pictures, cards, slips of paper, clothes, toys, books. They all have a meaning. Both good and bad. All important. But I use to have a white T-shirt. It won the title of ‘The Death Fight 2000 Shirt’. (long story) But as time wore on the shirt yellowed and fell apart until I could no longer wear it. The same goes for memories. They too, over time, fade away but even though memories fade along with the items that hold them the experience never will. All the laughter, the tears, the frustrations. I wouldn’t give any of them up for the world. They formed the man I am today as perfect or as flawed as I may be.

My mother sent me a forward awhile back. It told a story about a woman who had died. On her gravestone it read ‘1936 – 2002’. It went on to say that the most important part was the dash. What that dash stood for was all her feelings, all her experiences, all the people her life had touched. The title of the forward was ‘ I am glad I am in your dash’. All of you are extremely important to me. With all of the ups and downs we have been through I still care. I can only hope that your lives are as full as mine. Just remember me, happy or sad, because even after the sound of your laugh becomes muffled and your face slowly fades away your impressions will live with me forever.

So what is next? I have become an old soul with a baby face. I wear the badges of observer, guardian, loner, collector of memories. I can’t say what the future holds for your friend and mine but if I have learned nothing I know it is going to be one crazy ass ride.