Valentine's 2015

Though there's no need to explain this, my friend Frank's dad died today -- valentines day, 2015. he had a heart attack a few days ago, monday, i think. he had open-heart surgery wednesday; one blocked bypass artery turned into four. surgery complicated, they transferred him to a better hospital. my friends and i visited on wednesday night around 10 pm. frank was too busy dealing with business to register anything emotionally. we joked around for a bit. things weren't as bad yet. i was there when the doctor -- surgeon -- came to frank. he said they did all they could, and even though they'll try to do more, "it doesn't look good." where those magical words or what? suddenly it all seemed so helpless, hopeless. i never knew such bare words constructing reality exist.

what more is there to say? frank's dad died on valentines day, 2015, and frank will carry that blockage in his heart for the rest of his life -- just as his father did.

try as i might, i can never fully understand frank's despair until one of my own parents finally passes.

there's no reason or cause or logical chain of causes that resulted in this. there's no irony or metanarrative. there's no myth or leaden-tipped arrows involved here. it's just the heart of a 60 year old man, father of my friend since 6th grade, and the doctors who did the best their human hands and hearts and minds could.

time and events in human history are fucked. we are all fucked. nothing greater than this.

Distance

I wonder if things get better for me. I wonder if it turns out alright, and when. I wonder like I'm watching a movie--waiting, suspensed, frustrated slightly. I wonder if he gets that girl in the end -- though, with clear eyes and a couple of clearing shakes of the head, I realize he won't. That girl with a boyfriend and all that time spent together as friends at school.I wonder what he'll decide to do after school ends in the spring. will he finally overcome his anxious fear of the workforce? will he ultimately apply for internships like he knows he should? will he move out of his parents house for good with a full-time career (or job; or whatever;) by the time he's 30, like he so desperately wants to? will he eventually lower the minimum age to motivate (re: push) him to try more, because trying is all that one requires for success--even though one must also fail, right? because success is failing a lot of the time, but eventually you come out alright in the end, even if it's not what he expects, but it's still good because he at least now has a promising future and finally moves out on his own, right? i mean, failure is never really failure, right? it's just a lack of success until he does succeed, and then it's a success, right?

I wonder what he'll do after graduation. i wonder if he'll ever give up hope on that girl at school with a boyfriend. i wonder if -- if not her -- he'll eventually meet someone he can at least get along with -- because at this point compromise is crucial for not dying alone, like it always has been, but never been taught. Why did they lie to him so much? why did relationships, marriage, money, jobs, matter so much to his parents, that they told him lies? were they meant to protect, or delay the inevitable realization? i wonder if when he finds and marries a pretty someone, a smart someone, a funny someone, a someone who as far as someones go, is a remarkable someone, will he realize that someones don't ensure happiness; only the reverse is the case (as far as he knows): that the wrong someone will make him unhappy, but a good someone won't necessarily --- by force; by pressure; by a cosmic touch -- cure a someoneless lonely existence; and even if he ends up with that girl, by miracle or by inevitable, she's not his perfect someone or even really close just pretty close match because no one is and no one should treat another so meanly as to burden them in wishes and futures so desperately clung to in the remaining bits of misinformation?

I wonder if he'll be okay. that girl takes up a lot of the space in his head. she'll be last seen in the spring, he thinks. he believes he and she will part without ever seeing each other again sometime in June, and as far as he's concerned, that's alright by him, even though he implicitly promised to be her friend by explicitly friending her in real life. but because he likes her, yet she's unavailable, and even if available there'd be no guaranteeing she'd want him, he can't stand it, and must leave/feels compelled to abandon their friendship. does that make him a shitty person? he thinks so, but he doesn't scold himself; he simply accepts it. No, not just that though: he tries to change, but secretly he believes he'll never change. just being friends with someone he likes and sees constantly isn't possible for him. he's believed the lies for too long and knows their curves too well to ever fully abandon them. if there's one thing he does well, it's remain loyal to the myths, the lies, the falsehoods, the ghosts, the misconceptions, the errings from truth, the subtle differences inherent in all meaning blurred too much, to keep him safe in a make-shift womb on earth.

sometimes he wonders if it matter if the stories are true or not? he realizes he doesn't know how to answer.