It’s been longer than I can remember that I’ve felt this low, this broken, and this lost. 

Months and months ago I remember thinking to myself, life is too perfect.  Not perfect in the literal definition of the word, but my own perfect.  I get worried when I’m feeling hopeful, feeling good, feeling great about my life.  I get worried when things seem perfect.

Of course from an outside view, almost nothing was perfect:  I was usually broke a day, or two after payday.  I missed my true friends, the ones I could do nothing with for hours or days, and still have the best time in the world.  I didn’t necessarily love my job, but for once I didn’t loathe it.  I missed my family.  I drank too much.  My rent was way too high, and I genuinely missed small town living.  A city can get to be a lot on a young persons mind, especially hundreds of miles away from the back of your hand.

Even with all of these things in the life equation, I still felt like my life was perfect.  Every thing that wasn’t going “my way” didn’t hardly bother me, because I was spending time with the most beautiful person, inside and out, that I’ve ever met, and will ever meet, and everything else just kind of floated below the clouds I camped on.  Life was perfect.

Things are now not perfect, not by any definition or meaning, literal or perceived, figurative or imaginative, not by a fraction of the most minuscule measurement you can fathom.

I am physically in the best shape that I have literally ever been in in my entire life.  I’m eating healthy.  I’m working out, and I like it.  I haven’t had a sip of alcohol since I realized what it’s done to my life.  I keep things clean, neat and tidy, there’s never a dirty dish to be found or a shirt not on it’s hanger.  I’m playing music again — writing new songs almost every day.  I’m drawing, coloring, reading, and writing again, because I enjoy these things.  I’m saving money.  I’m cutting down on coffee, and cigarettes.  Why aren’t things perfect, or at least better?

Because I’m alone.  I am more alone right now, today, the past months, than I have ever felt.  More alone than my pre-pubescent depression, more alone than I knew I could ever feel. 

I’m still far away in a busy city, my rent is still too high, I still miss my family and my friends, I still don’t hate my job, but I don’t have the one thing around right now that kept me held together through everything that wasn’t “perfect” before.

It’s disappointing that often times it seems to me, people convey the mindset that if you depend on the one you love, you’re looked at as weak, or inadequate.

Because you rely on someone for support, because they make you stronger and a better person without trying, because every time you look at them you feel like everything will be fine, because you would do anything for them including moving to any city or town in the world even if you didn’t love it but since you’re with them it would be an amazing place, because you would give up everything for them, because you would do anything, anything, and everything, for them:  You’re weak, you’re crazy, you’re just not alright?

There’s a difference between loving someone because you need them, and needing someone because you love them, that I believe.

It has been a long time, as I said, since I’ve felt this alone.  But, it’s also been a long time since I’ve thought this clearly.  It’s been a long time since I’ve dealt with so many personal struggles day in, and day out, completely sober.  Sober from any sort of crutch or escape, from any support, from anything to lean on — I have no tools at hand except for my own mind.

I’ve realized so many things in this recent clear-minded maelstrom that it surprises me as I discover them daily.  It hasn’t been easy, but my short-comings have been made crystal for me to see, hidden in front of me for way too long.

Where this all connects for me I guess, is that life isn’t perfect.  I’m living my life the best I can right now, and it’s going pretty damn well, but it’s not my own perfect.  Life will never be the definition of “perfect,” it will never be easy, or fun, or stress-free all of the time, and a lot of the time you’re going to be confused and torn.  But if you find someone you love, then it will be a different sort of perfect.

You can think of me as weak, as inadequate, or as crazy, but I’m not.  

I found the person I will do anything for.  The person I would give everything up for, and is worth more than the world to me.  Above all, the person that I will never give up on no matter how confused or lost they are, because sometimes, a lot of times, we are all lost.  The most important thing is the person that’s going to be there whenever you’re found.

I may have broken my word a few times in my life, but never a promise promise.  I will never give up on the girl that I love, I can promise promise that to this world.  

I’m not weak, I’m not inadequate, I may be crazy, but I’ve always been fine with that.