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[eloquentgraffiti]

New Year’s Prayer

Lonely car ride home.

New decade full of questions-

need to fill this seat.

[eloquentgraffiti]

12/20

Floating out in space.

My friends - happy, safe, content.

This time I’m alone.

[eloquentgraffiti]

Don’t Dream It’s Over

The dreams won’t stop.

Last night I dreamed that we crossed paths in a doctor’s office. Why a doctor’s office? Maybe because I’m starting back at the hospital in a few days. Funny how dreams work.

I sat on the opposite side of the room, pretending like our eyes didn’t lock the minute I entered. You came over and spoke. If there was small talk, I don’t remember it. Visibly unhappy, you told me that your husband was a misogynist. I responded that you finally married Seth. There’s a comparison that I never consciously made before. Funny how dreams work.

I told you that you only succeeded in “taking me out of the game.” I explained that by marrying him, she eliminated me. She knows my stance on marriage. Details are hazy from there, but I feel like she expressed some sort of regret, or attempted to somehow explain things away. It doesn’t really matter. As she began to leave, I called out here name. She turned to me. “Go back to church.” Then I woke up.

I reached out to her (in real life) a few weeks ago. The time felt right to finally send her the photos of Lauren from our time together. I felt like I could finally handle it. The jury is still out as to whether or not that was true. What it did do was tear the scab off of the cut. I’m not convinced it wasn’t for the best. I can certainly feel again. It hurts. It’s causing a lot of dreams. But it’s not destroying me like it would have at one time. I’ve seen the pictures. I’ve read the text. They have a seemingly happy family. Our exchanges were civil. She thanked me a number of times. I remained short and to the point - ridiculously guarded. It hurts. But I don’t regret doing it.

This feels like a chapter of my life ending. I hope it’s the wasteland chapter that has seemingly gone on forever. Hard work brought weight loss. The weight loss brought new confidence. New confidence brought the new license. The new license brought about a new job. The new job brought about a greatly increased amount of pay. This has felt like the time to tie up loose ends.

Sometimes to make a bone heal properly, they have to re-break it. That’s what this has felt like.

I deleted my Instagram in an effort to move on. I’m sure the dreams will continue for awhile. But hopefully they fade - or better yet, are replaced by someone else.

[eloquentgraffiti]

A Sign of the Times

I wanted to get this down before I run the risk of forgetting a single, wonderful detail.

The last few months have been harrowing - an unending marathon of self torture and worry and determination and uncertainty. It has been a long time since I’ve really wanted something. Since I really fought for something. As stressful as it was, it felt good to want again.

I ran into Kari after a few previous chance meetings with old friends and coworkers from UTH. I approached her with no intentions of discussing work or the prospects of coming back to the hospital, though it had been on my mind increasingly over the last few months. She immediately made it known that there were openings and she would like having me back. I explained my plans and that I wouldn’t be able to start until the end of July. She was still agreeable. Within a week or two, I received a message from Judy telling me to apply so they could lock up my position.

I can in and interviewed, and it felt very apparent quickly that I wasn’t so much being interviewed, but convinced that things had changed drastically since 2012 when I left. I went in feeling good about the job, and left feeling like I needed this. This feeling that was starting to break through...I needed this. Then began the fight.

A week and a half later I was notified that Walker had labeled me with a “do not rehire” when I left in 2012 for a completely fabricated reason. It wasn’t insurmountable, but I needed to get my RRT before I could begin working there. Kari was wonderful about it, both reassuring and confident in my ability. Much more so than I was. After a day or so of feeling really irked that a lie could potentially derail my prospects all these years later, I embraced it. It often feels like things don’t come easily for me, and this is just another thing. What I didn’t immediately realize is that this farce was a necessity. The fire it was lighting inside of me was crucial to succeeding. I began studying like a madman - like I’ve never studied before. I wanted it. I needed it. This quickly became more than just a test. I was fighting for my future - and not just a job. For my happiness. For love. For God. I was suddenly burdened with an overwhelming feeling of purpose. There was a reason for all of this. It’s leading somewhere big, and I couldn’t shake that feeling.

I took the written exam (TMC) and passed, although in the midst of the test I was certain I had failed. I’m still not sure how I passed. It was God. I gambled and scheduled the sims (CSE) for the day before I was to leave for Creation. I didn’t want to carry that baggage with me to the festival. If there was a shot that I could end this all before Creation, I wanted to take that shot. I began studying like a madman again - studying hard, praying harder. I knew I couldn’t get through this on my own. I let a lot of people know my plans, when I was taking the test. This probably added a lot of unneeded stress as well, but I did my best to just go with it. I felt very nervous up until...

I sat in the parking lot of the testing facility. I had adopted this ritual for both tests that involved last minute studying for a few hours prior to test time, prayer, and listening to “I Am” by Crowder. “This is my victory song” has been ringing in my mind since 2014, waiting for those prophetic words to come true. Before the music, I prayed a prayer of thanks. No more asking for help, God had heard those prayers a thousands times leading up to the test. I felt led to pray a prayer of thanks for what was about to happen. With as nervous as I felt, I could feel victory within my grasp. After “I Am” played, I played “Not Today” by Hillsong UNITED. This is when the totality of everything hit me. I no longer felt nervous or scared. I felt strong. I thought about all of those who wished me well, including those who were sending me texts in those very moments. I thought about the many, many people praying for me. God allowed me to feel all of it, and I felt truly lifted up. Literally lifted. I walked with confidence into the testing facility, and went on to pass the exam by the grace of God. I was officially an RRT, and defeated the lie, the obstacles, and fight for my future.

While composing this, I’m unsure how things are going to play out. I should be getting the UTH job offer within the next week or so. I still feel like I’m on the precipice of something huge. I don’t know what that all entails, but I’m praying that it includes my wife. It’s 4:30 in the morning, and I was feeling a bit down - longing for what has already passed. I wanted to write this all down to remember. I’m very blessed.

If God can take someone from you that you thought you could never live without, He can certainly bring you someone that you never dreamed of having.

[eloquentgraffiti]

The Unexpected Virtues of the Punching Bag

My friends are warriors. I see it written all over them. Whether they believe it or not, I can see it - feel it, hardwired into their being. I spent most of my life with the misguided notion that, I too, was a warrior. That when the fire came, I would persevere and prevail. As a warrior, I had a great unfounded strength buried somewhere inside of me. That I could be unbroken. That simply isn’t true.

Reality has a way of kicking your teeth down your throat and laughing while you attempt to regain your composure.

Months back, I made some much needed changes. Thankfully they were not the wish-washy attempts I’ve feigned countless times before. In the course of repetition after repetition, sweat puddle after sweat puddle, one has a lot of time to think. I thought about my past, and the losses, and how I dealt with those. I though about my friends and family. I thought about how I wasn’t a warrior. I wasn’t some great conquerer. I was conquered.

Then I spent a lot of time thinking about what I actually was. It took awhile, but I realize what I am - I’m a punching bag. Not the most glamorous thing, but I think it’s honest. Punching bags absorb punishment. Punching bags bounce back. It’s not a conscious decision. It’s just the way it is. A punching bag doesn’t quit.

I haven’t quit. I won’t quit. It’s not in my nature. I don’t know what punishment lies ahead, or how much, but there’s one constant - I’ll absorb. I’ll outlast it. Not because I want to. Not out of some insane stubbornness. That’s just the way it is. What other option is there? My time is going to come one way or another.

[eloquentgraffiti]

The Heart is a Muscle

Despite all of my excessive past failures, I have succeeded.

I don’t think there’s anyone that feels quite as odd as I do. I see two pictures, one of the man I used to be, and one of the man I am now. I don’t feel like I’m either. It’s not a negative feeling, just a different one. But make no mistake, this is a new chapter. Everything feels different.

I set out to lose a life-changing amount of weight, and also get healthy in every aspect of my life - physically, financially, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. On this journey, being reintroduced to a kid I used to know was perhaps the most moving and profound experience in a time of constant change and progress.

The beads of sweat are running down the slope of my nose, lingering for a second or two, then dropping to the floor. One after another. A familiar but long-missing presence takes over. With every drop of sweat, I see a vision forming. The vision is hazy and unclear. Another bead of sweat falls, and the vision comes more in focus. Sweat. More sweat. Fat cells are being burned inside of me - water lost, heart pounding. The chisel is being taken to every mistake. Every excess. Every void that was attempted to be filled with negative impulses. I see a kid standing in front of me, reaching out his hand. Puddles of sweat below me. It’s me. It’s that kid that seems to have been hiding for so long. He’s reaching out - every muscle and tendon stretching out to its limits. I extend my hand to the kid, but he’s out of reach. The kid looks at me with a mixture of intensity, bravado, and naivety and through gritting teeth yells “KEEP THE FAITH! DON’T YOU DARE STOP!”

And I continue on.

The kid that I was - the kid that I lost - the kid that is now in front of me will soon be the kid that I found. I read this quote a while back: “Your future self is watching you through memory while your past self is hoping for your success.” That cocky, ridiculous kid - he’s rooting me on because he knows what he is capable of. The present me, weighed down in tragedy and experience, scuffed up and bruised a little too much for my own good, has forgotten that. But the kid hasn’t.

More sweat. I’m reaching out. The kid isn’t going anywhere. I can see him now.

This past Monday (11/5) I reached my goal. I finally grabbed ahold of the kid’s hand. The minute our hands touched, the page turned.

It’s a new chapter. Things feel different. Things are different. It took years to find that part of me again, and I feared him lost forever. But he’s a part of me again. We are one. And I believe the future me is looking back through memory, and realizes that THIS is the moment where things turn around.

[eloquentgraffiti]

La La Lie

I have this vision in my head where we are all happy - and together. We look at one another and realize how long and tough the journey has been, and here we sit, complete. Completely happy. Completely content. Completely complete. We sharing a knowing smile with other another, in the embrace of our significant others, realizing that the fight, while fierce, has been totally worth it. The fear has subsided, and we are still tight. All together. All of us.

I’m kicking, scratching, clawing for this vision. The fight is fierce. But it has to be worth it. It just has to be.

[eloquentgraffiti]

You’re Where You’re Supposed To Be

I’ve been down lately. Two former close friends committed suicide within a six month span. Romantically, I’ve made no headway - perhaps even taken a few steps backwards. I’m not happy with myself, or where I am in life. After all these years, I just feel forgotten. Like it’s not going to end. Things have felt hopeless.

I used to be a big believer in signs. I wrote a post a year or so ago about looking for them again. Truth be told, like most things I write here, I quickly forgot about it. I write here as a means for therapy, to get things off my chest. Once it’s out there, it falls from view. No one reads this, so there’s really no accountability.

I was watching a movie today, out at the theater alone, which has become commonplace the last few years. I’m not proud of it, but it keeps my mind off of things. Towards the end of the movie, a female character said “I’m where I’m supposed to be...” For some reason, this struck a nerve with me. My eyes widened, and that all-too-familiar sensation of tears welling up began. Why here? This is an action movie, not anything overly sentimental. Why have these words struck a cord with me? Then I remembered - Heather said those same words to me. A few weeks after she left, and the numbness started to subside to true pain, I asked her if she was happy. “I’m where I’m supposed to be.” I couldn’t appreciate it at the time. It was like kicking a downed man. Felt cheap. The lady in the movie continued on, addressing the main character - “...and so are you.”

With the completion of that statement, a rush of peace fell over me. And of course, more tears. Heather is where she’s supposed to be. I’ve come to accept that over the years. But I guess I never came to accept the fact that so am I. I’m where I should be. If there were any other situation better for me, grace would have put me there. So I just need to rest in that.

Thank you for the sign.

[eloquentgraffiti]

This could be the first words of the next chapter.

[eloquentgraffiti]

Never, ever give up.

While playing a game today, Braydon randomly said to me, “Always try your hardest and never give up, right?”

How could I ever consider giving up with that in my life?

[eloquentgraffiti]

Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

My birthday was a few days ago and it kicked off with the complete severance of a relationship. It started as genuine - meaningful, lovely, and uplifting. But it had turned soured quite awhile ago, and the final blow that needed to land happened on that morning, thus dissolving another prior love. We wished each other well, and that was it.

A month ago I made a pretty big jump. I left my job of five and a half years in order to pursue something different. Sure, I was burnt out on hospital life. But it was much more than that. I had to get away from her. The pregnant silence between us broke my heart over and over again. I didn’t like who I had turned into. I thought that maybe with some distance and time, I could be someone that I actually liked again.

The changes have brought about a lot of good. I’m happy I made the move. But I’ve also realized that I’m dragging old baggage to this new place with me. There are external changes all around me, but very little by way of internal. It hurts me to see so many bettering their lives, and actually working for it. I think part of me always expected to just wake up one morning and everything make sense, and come easily. I’ve been lazy in so many ways.

Today, I’m resolving to myself to change this. I’ve made the necessary steps to distance myself from a toxic situation. Now I need to purge the toxic behaviors and thoughts than have swirled around inside me for so long. For the first time, I think I need to put myself first. I need to be happy with myself before I can pour love into someone else.

Thank you for the motivation, and for turning the mirror on me.

[eloquentgraffiti]

Forerunner

It seems I’m the forerunner for guys who are about to meet the love of their lives. Like some tragically realistic version of that terrible “Good Luck Chuck” movie, women are with me before they meet “the one.” Aside from the obvious pain of always being the bridesmaid and never the bride (thankfully figuratively), I can’t figure out if this is a badge of honor or terribly revealing of the worst things I think about myself. 

On one hand, I guess you could say that I’m the final guy to show them what they really want, before they find it. Maybe I treat them well, make them feel beautiful. Maybe it’s just that I’m not quite the right fit, but they know where to find that proper fit now. Perhaps it’s a pseudo “good guy” service I’m providing.

On the other hand, maybe my glaring faults - the stuff I try to hide, the monsters under my bed that have begun to rear their ugly heads in the light of day; maybe those monsters reveal what one truly wants in love. And it certainly isn’t what I’m offering.

I always believed I was a fighter. I’ve actually been told that a lot from others as well. If that’s an admirable quality that others perceive, and it in someway helps or inspires, then that makes me glad. But the years have revealed to me that I’m far from a fighter. I’m a survivor, but only because I have no other option. If giving up were an option, I would have gone to sleep and not woke up four years ago. Had I known what a long arduous road this would be, a veritable comedy of errors, the towel would have been thrown in immediately.

The pit-stops of any spark I share with another human being are all the same. The excitement builds, and as the spark begins to light a fire, the rain douses any hint of hope and potential. This last one really hurt. All I could think to myself was “See you dummy? It was an illusion! That’s what you get for allowing yourself to get excited. That’s what you get for dreaming again.”

If this scenario playing over and over again isn’t funny enough, surly the comedy comes from the fact that I’ll hope again. I’ll let the excitement creep in, ultimately knowing the end result. The promise of what I’ve wanted for so long is just too great. The weight of this desire I’ve carried is too great. It’s killing me.

And then that second wind hits. And I stand up. And I hope again. The boy inside of me shouts “keep the faith!” and I can’t bear to let him down. I have to keep trying. I have to keep pushing forward. Even if it means I’ll get hurt. Even if it means I’ll be the forerunner again. A tragic comedy.

No, I’m not a fighter. A fighter occasionally gets some hits in. I can’t say that I have. I’m a punching bag. I absorb the punishment. For better or worse, I’m a survivor. I have no choice. Even if there’s a microscopic chance, the faintest fluke that can occur, I have to hold on. I’d never forgive myself for missing the opportunity to reap the benefits of another forerunner.

[eloquentgraffiti]

The Weight is a Gift

I’m emotionally drained.

I carry this weight of frustration and anger and guilt. Lately it feels like that weight has been compounded by a recent betrayal. I envy people who are able to let go of things and not take it in, making it a part of themselves. I desperately just want to be okay, and on nights like tonight, it just feels so far away. I’m too damaged.

I pray to God to take it away. I don’t want to carry the weight anymore. It’s too heavy to bear, I’m a cracking under the pressure. I’ve seen people healed. I’ve seen prayers answered. I know God to be true and faithful. But sometimes I feel forgotten. I know I’m not, but I just feel so hidden. Like how I feel or what I think amounts to little. Maybe it does.

But if I know all these things to be true, and I know the promises given in scripture, and I pray for relief - for safety, why do I still feel this way? Why am I in constant conflict with myself? Why is there no relief?

I know I’m missing something. It’s my fault in some way. I know that with certainty. I’d rather imagine it is something so simple as well. I have trouble thinking when there’s so many things swirling in my head, making war with one another.

I know I’m loved. I know I’m not forgotten. I know something good will come of this. If only knowing and feeling were mutually comparable.

Four years ago today, I had a perfect day. This is not lost on me either.

I just need some relief. Probably from myself.

Excuse my scatter-brained post.

I’ll just keep moving.

[eloquentgraffiti]

In It For You

I want to be in love again.

That feels like an obvious statement, but I don’t think I was ready for the longest time. I really want it now. I’m ready again. The fear of being hurt isn’t factoring into things so much anymore.

I feel like a flourish when I’m in love. I’m a better person. Actually, I’m me. When I’m alone, for an extended period of time, I stop resembling myself. I only really recognize myself by the love in my life. It’s my light. It’s my standard.

I’m trying really hard. I don’t want to coast anymore. And I don’t want to be impatient. And I definitely don’t want to keep forcing it to come. I’m trying to be content, and good, and hopefully optimistic.

But man, I just want that feeling again! To be in love.

“I’m not in it to win it. I’m in it for you.”

[eloquentgraffiti]

End of the Chapter.

Today the “Naive” video was released. I told myself at the beginning that despite opening old wounds, I needed to be honest and give this video a real shot. Heart open. Vulnerable. Hurtable.

I also told myself that this was worth doing. I needed closure. I never got closure from her. The last day I saw her and my little girl was the very last night we were together. Just gone like that. And instead of processing everything, I walled up. I made sure I was no longer hurtable. I closed everyone off - isolated myself. After three years, that got to be exhausting. I wanted to feel again. I needed to be honest with myself, and this was the way to do that.

So with the release of this video, that chapter of my life is finally coming to a close. I would love to say that I’ll never hurt from it again, but knowing myself that’s unlikely. But rather, I will no longer linger on that hurt. That part of my heart is being reopened for someone new. I just don’t know who.

It’s scary living openly now. I still don’t trust people. There are things on the horizon that are terrifying to me. There are things coming up that I know will knock me to the ground. Things that will tear at my heart. But I just need to keep pressing on.

Something is out there.

As for you - you changed my life. You made me a better man than I ever thought possible. You broke me more than I ever thought possible. Those lessons are now a part of me - of who I am. Three years of unexplainable joy. Three years of unexplainable pain. But now it’s time to turn the page.

When all you have just falls apart Nothing seems to work out right You're trying And you're still alright Yeah, you're still alright

[eloquentgraffiti]

Three Years.

It’s a crazy thought that you’ve officially been gone longer than we were ever together. I’m not quite sure how to process that.

March 28th. This was originally a day that I dreaded. It was on my mind a lot back in 2015. The first full year since you left. It weighed heavily in 2016 as well. Perhaps it is the last few months of dealing with the storm of emotions, the resolution to start tearing down walls, or the declaration to live more honestly - most of all with myself; but today doesn’t mean as much as it once did. I don’t dread today. I’m not sad. I’m actually quite empowered.

While working on the “Naive” video, I needed some intro photos taken before the crux of the video’s narrative kicks in. In the spirit of the video, and living honestly, I decided that the two scenes that needed to be shot were West Overton (where we were to be married) and 10 Mile (where I proposed). For the first time since you left, I drove out and visited these once sacred areas to get my footage. I wish I could say I was unaffected, but to be truthful, it hit me like a sledgehammer to the chest.

It hurt, sure, but the fact that I was able to and not unravel has shown me that I’m making some serious progress. Perhaps the first real progress of this whole ordeal.

Driving out of Fredericktown, one particular song lyric played over and over in my head.

Always love. Hate will get you every time.  

I know you have a beautiful life now, and I’ve come to grips with the fact that I wasn’t “the one” - I was the last “wrong one” that you’d ever have. That was a bitter pill to swallow, but I wasn’t the hero of that story. But I am the hero of this one. The one that’s playing out as I type this. It’s a longer story, with a bit more turbulence, but ultimately ending with a hard-fought victory. I won’t settle for less.

I try to figure out how I feel about you now. I’m not sure I can pinpoint it. I don’t love you. I don’t miss you. While it took most of these past three years to accept, I’ve come to grips with what was done and how you did it. I think any positive feelings I have about those days are missing who I was. I miss being a great father. I miss being a great boyfriend/fiance. I miss having a great love.

I suppose it’s a positive thing that I’m actively working towards it all again.

No more rest.

It’s been three years - and I feel alive again.

[eloquentgraffiti]

...I will restore all that was broken.

One of my best friends got married this weekend. He generously hired me as the photographer. I obviously love photography, and I love weddings. I also hate weddings. The question I wrestled with late in the day was whether the love outweighed the hate, or vice versa.

The loss of my fiance three years ago broken me in more ways than I could ever imagine. I still feel the effects to this very day. These weddings that I’m hired to shoot bring all of that brokenness to the forefront - and I’m left dealing with the wreckage all over again in the weeks that follow.

In January 2015, something miraculous happened to me; something that I still think about to this day. It was my nephew’s birthday party, and I had been feeling down all day. This was the first birthday of his that I would attend without my fiance and stepdaughter - I just felt off all day. In the weeks prior, I felt God laying a particular scripture on my heart:

Be still, and know that I am God. -Psalm 46:10

This scripture would show up all the time. As I alluded to in the previous post, signs. I was seeing them - all pointing me to this Godly truth. So I was trying my best to observe it and find the correlation in my life.

Driving home that night from my nephew’s birthday party, sheltered from the January cold in the comfort of my car, surrounded by the Wintery darkness, I began talking it out with God. This is not such an uncommon thing for me. In moments of emotional vulnerability, I find it hard to cope. Talking candidly with God often helps me. So I began a conversation - speaking of the hurt I still felt, my intense desire to find love again, my longing for a family of my own. I turned on a Matthew West album that I had never heard before (this was before I was well acquainted with Christian music), and turned the volume down to a whisper. I just wanted some pretty music to help my free flow of thoughts while talking to The One who knows everything. Then something miraculous happened. God talked back.

In the middle of this particular Matthew West song that I had never heard before, I heard God telling me to “Be still, and know that I am God!” I shut up. I felt it was time to stop talking and just listen. Immediately, these lyrics played:

“I have a dream for you It's better than where you've been It's bigger than your imagination You're gonna find real love And you're gonna hold your kids You'll change the course of generations”

I could do nothing but cry. I felt energized all at once. I wanted to pull over my car and just run in the freezing January weather, having confirmation that I could live again.

There have been times looking back on that beautiful moment that I have believed that maybe it was all in my head. Maybe it was a coincidence. A happy accident. I mean, it’s now 2017, and I still have no evidence - no love, no kids. And here I am at this wedding feeling those old familiar pains all over again. I did my job, put on a happy face, and tried to push those feelings down - like I usually do. As the final few people began filtering out of the reception, I decided to leave. I had a two and a half hour drive home, and it was been a long, trying day.

One the drive home, I felt led to put the Matthew West song back on. I wanted to feel that hope again. I wanted reassurance. I wanted my lack of faith to subside to Godly proof. So I began listening to those familiar chords again, and talking to God. The result this time was two hours of worship, and God speaking to me through music again. Graciously reaffirming those promises, and even moreso - reaffirming His love for me. I am loved. I matter. I’ve had a lot of sad things happen to me, but He hasn’t forgotten about me. He hasn’t forgotten about that night in the car. And he still has so much for me. Some songs I sung as a prayer. Some were sung in worship. Some were sung as an anthem for myself and my life. Some couldn’t be sung without breaking down at the lyrics:

“I see my child, my beloved The new creation you're becoming You see the scars from when you fell But I see the stories they will tell “

And in the midst of all of that, this Heavenly thought came to me that will be a truth someday. I thought about God looking down on me and my life. The times where I’m happy, the times where I’m hurting. The times I’ve let him down. The times He may have been proud of me. And I thought about the day where it all begins. I thought about God looking down on me with a huge fatherly smile, and saying “Behold, I’m going to do a new thing! Today is the day! Today is the day B.J. is going to meet his wife, and his life will never be the same!” To me, it would be waking up like any other day. But God, my proud father would know the joy and fulfillment that was about to come. And God would be watching down with joy knowing where my life was about to go. Who knows - maybe this is already happening.

I know, I know. I struggle with wanting this so badly when people are poor, and hungry. When sex trafficking is actually a thing. When there are souls to win. B.J. wanting a wife and kids seems so small in the grand scheme of things. But I can’t help but feel that it was God who gave me these desires to begin with. And if God is willing to speak to me about it, it must be something important.

I can’t help but feel that this is all leading somewhere. And I can’t wait to arrive.