1,000 Stories Never Told


That’s how I feel today. Like I’m full of stories that are locked away in some part of my brain, and cannot escape. Like I’ve squeezed off the potential for more stories to be born because of my own weakness and fear. Like I’ve been afraid to even share the day-to-day stories here because I know there are people who are reading this blog who are just waiting for me to fall on my face.

On behalf of the late, great Harry Hersh, I say “Fuck you Haters”. Your doubt and disbelieve have held me back and made me doubt myself for far too long. I may have had some spectacular failures in this life, but with each came a host of lessons, which have shaped me into the fairly decent person I am today.

I will continue to fail – fail myself, fail others – but this is how stories are born, and nothing that is born does so without a lot of pain, blood, and gore. For Harry, and Jackie, and Nicky and Bert, for Scott, and Sadie, and Lucienne, for Gail and for anyone else I haven’t named, I will spread my arms and spectacularly fall flat on my face. The same tried and true friends will help me up, dust me off and watch as I, Bambi-on-the-pond, attempt it all over again. Because I need these stories. I need these chapters to feel like I am alive in the world. I need the soaring victories, the enduring conquests, and the despair-riddled fuck ups. I need to build my own legacy, my own way.

I feel like I’m doing the best that I can, with my own resources. I see the pitfalls and the snags. I see my own limitations, and struggle to move through them.

I miss my dog with a visceral pain that is unrivaled in my life. On days like today, twenty minutes with him in the park was enough to make me sane again. With him, I could just be. He was never disappointed, never hurt, always just happy to be there, sweating and panting by my side. Taking my dog away from me out of spite was the last shitty thing I will ever allow anyone to do to me by putting myself in an unnecessarily vulnerable position. I pray for the day that I won’t silently pray for Karma to wreak vengence upon that person.

I find peace in the pages of my journal, in the book I’m currently getting lost in, in a steaming latte, in music, in knowing that I’ve done the best I can. If you do the best you can, and fail, is it still failure?

9 thoughts on “1,000 Stories Never Told

  1. It is not failure, sweet Schnoo. It’s learning, and growing and struggling and admitting that you’re a beautifully-flawed human being.

    Spiteful, self-righteous justifications and judgmental dismissals seem to be a favorite past-time for many.. I hope that you’re able to remind yourself what you’ve accomplished, while surrounding yourself with those who love you.

    p.s. That is my favorite photo of you to date, I believe.

    • Oh no, I didn’t get to see Arthur. I’ve been banned from ever seeing him again. Apparently, my own happiness is more than some people can deal with. This is an old photo.

      Such is life, I suppose…

      Hope all is well for you. x

  2. I don’t think you need me to tell you that you can’t let the haters get you down. I know you know that.

    So instead I’ll remind you have (by far) more people who love you than would like to see you fail. There’s a massive coalition of people out there who are ready and willing to cheer on your successes and help you through your failures, both minor and major. That’s never gonna change.

    In a stand up fight, you friends would trump your detractors by a substantial margin. I know that solitude is good for writing, but try as you might you’ll never be alone.

  3. And you are an inspiration to many including me. You are wise and honest and kind and the haters are missing out on your generous love and friendship. Also, Annie wants you to know that she would love a walk in the park with you anytime.

  4. I am so sorry that Arthur is no longer in your life. I know that he got you through some rough times but you seem to find your peace in other facets of your life now. I am truly happy for you and your new family and hope that you continue to grow and learn from life experiences. When I see you with those two little ones and the way you interact with them I know that you are where you were meant to be at this time in your life.
    You should continue to journal as much as you want or need too. I wish that I could express myself the way that you do in your journaling. You truly have a great talent that many of us could only hope for. I think about you everyday and love and miss you a lot.

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