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Writings > The Road I Travelled

27-29 Jul 2002

This story is/was based in part on my own experiences. How much of it really me, I'm not entirely sure.
- gile, 27 July 2002

I look down the road. I know I've travelled this way before. This is the road my life is built upon. The road where I learned love. Where I found and then lost that love. One day soon, I will find happiness, but the road gets longer and longer.

I have seen the end, but it was only a glimpse. For a moment, I thought that my torture that is my life would end, and that I could be happy, free from the burdens of my own heart and mind. But love had caught up to me, and with that, the end of the road disappeared.

I was a prisoner of love. I am a prisoner of love. To be caught by it in a whirlwind, my heart put to a grindstone, and then for me to be released. Released to be the victim of another innocent. My presence denoted strength and power, but behind that I was a weak man. I never believe in myself; I always thought that I was not good enough for anyone.

That's how I treated myself for much of my life. Feeling I was never good enough made me think that I would only get hurt if I revealed my true thoughts and emotions. I was too thick and naive to realize that by NOT revealing that was the only way I could really hurt myself. I kept everything to myself, and over the course of many years, it built up.

I lost all control. I lost everything. Love, friendship, trust... everything I held dear to my heart. I could take no more. I stopped going down the road. I laid in the center, and I let everything take me over. Periods of seemingly happinees came, but were quickly overrun by anger.

Then it happened again. They came to me lying in the road, but they did not take me over. They taught me not to hide everything, and to say it, no matter what it was. They picked me up, and put me again back on the road. I truly thought that the end of the road would come. But then I fell in love once more, this time with one of those who helped me.

This time, I was not going to be overrun by the fear of my own heart. I told of my feelings, but I was not hurt by them. Surely the end must be near now. Alas, I still could not see the end of the road. I then realized that I was not to follow this road. I was the master of my own fate, and I could change it.

So I walked off the long, painful, road I had spent my life on. Now I'm making my own road — my own path — out in the unknown wilderness of life. I know not where I will go, or what I will meet on this way. I'm finally in control of me. That's what matters.

I'm finally in control.

This is another part — another chapter, if you will — of the story.
- gile, 29 July 2002

I'm in control — But, I'm alone.

It took me a number of years before I was in control and in that time, I ruined many things, with many people. I had come to believe that everything was about me, and that no one else mattered. Could I have been more wrong?

I had no friends left. I could easily make friends — I was a pretty nice guy much of the time, if you didn't know me. Mostly a loner, but a nice guy. After becoming friends with me, they would start to see what I 'really' was. But no one likes to be around a total prick, so they all went.

Now that journey is over. I am not the jerk I thought I was, or made myself to be. I am a nice guy; I just had to realize that. I once again have friends, but they were hard to come by, since it was during the hardest part of my journey, the end.

But they're still here. And we've become better friends as time has gone on. No, I'm not alone, everyone is here, and they know the real me.