To Men Of Past and Present..

Dear...

Jacob. All the things that you did for me were really nice. The fact that they were rehearsed and revised actions that had been undertaken time and time again is no longer of any relevance. At that moment, they were for me, and I wish I hadn't been so mad about it.

You taught me a lot about what it means to love somebody, and believe in them even if they are slightly ridiculous. You taught me that loving somebody isn't a choice. It happens, and just as it happens, it can go away again.

Damien. I am not sure if you still hate me for the way everything happened, or if you just can't look me in the eye anymore. The things that I did were all for good reason, and I think that you understand that now. I still don't like that you never gave yourself a voice. Thank you for giving me one.

Matthew. You have the nicest face. It isn't that it is stunning, it's that your eyes and your smile made me want to do things I would never even do. And I have done those things, because I wanted to do them with you. I wanted to be the person that could tell you, show you, and teach you everything. I wanted to know you. But I'm not sure you wanted to know me in the same way. I always wondered where you disappeared to. I never told you how I felt though, because I was too scared you would reject me. I was just too scared to lose what I didn't want in order to reach for what I needed. Perhaps I let us both down.

Luke. Maybe I was what you said I was. But the hardest part about being your friend is that you were never the same to me. I actually think I would have died if it wasn't for your consistent, fierce support which genuinely made me believe that barriers can be broken down and people can feel true and genuine love, without being *in love*. Sometimes I hate that you have moved past everything, but then I remember that I am the one who ran.

David. I always thought I would miss you when I went away. I never did. I only ever missed your best friend. I am sorry. 

Marcus. I think we went through something together that neither of us will really understand. There was nothing that ever happened, in any sense, however, I felt changed by you and I'm fairly sure you are the same. It is such a shame to me that when I think of you now, those thoughts are filled with contempt and exhaustion. It makes me think that everyone else must have given up on figuring you out, too.


*Names have been changed in this piece to protect myself, and only myself. Think one of these is about you? Ask me. This may or may not be a piece of fiction

- RH

An Open Letter To Nobody In Particular

Hey kid,

Crazy times, huh? It's 4am and I'm sitting starting to think about writing again. It seems that at times like these, the only coping mechanism is really to write it all down. If I don't I can't even really begin to dissect my own thoughts and understand why things happen the way they do.

See sometimes I stop and I think about the amount of time we spend wishing that things were different: like we spend our entire day whittling away over a petty little pursuit of something bigger, faster, better in some way. The truth is you will always miss someone or something, and probably always wish that even the smallest thing in your life was just a little bit different. The happiest people I've ever met are somewhat nonchalant and directionless.

Then I realize that I'm thinking about thinking and doing nothing at all.

If I'm going to be totally honest with you, things are looking slightly awry. It's the humanity of it all: the fact that all of us have to die in some sense or another in order to actually live. Whenever I disappoint the people I care about I die a little more inside. Toss it away: Be vicarious, victorious and brave! Triumph! And then laugh at the triviality of the fact that you spent so much time wondering and nothing ever came to be.

I woke up this morning with a pounding headache and I knew that the wine was to blame. I lay for a while in the dust thrown up by my own indecision and thought about the consequences of whatever it was that happened to me in the last 24 hours. I thought until my mind hurt and that's when I started to write. I know I've taken the long road with all of this, kid. You don't need to tell me twice. I always kinda figured I'd be the one to take the long road in pretty much anything. But what I've realized is you can try to do the best thing you can at every possible junction but people aren't going to care about the truth. They care about whatever validates their fucking existence in some little way. Give them something to be mad about, or something to laugh at. If they don't have that from somebody else then where could it possibly come from?!

I wouldn't bother with the truth much further. One day none of it will ever even matter.

So what is the takeaway from all of this? Perhaps as people we are all too consumed with our own loneliness and inner process that we refuse to see the external. Surely anything without too much analysis would be boring, huh?

The takeaway is; be honest with yourself and who you are. Don’t ever apologize for the way that someone perceives your action: they are ultimately only trying to understand their own projected expectation.  Be brave. Seek your own validation. Boldness will be rewarded.

And if it doesn’t, and if nothing of this is true…  at least we are closer to that one conscious thought.