According to this, I have five people that read this blog.
For some reason, I feel like writing again.
So here I go. This is going to be fun.
twss.
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I just went back and re-read every single post on Caleb Tucker's blog. So if I end up writing just a little bit like him, you'll know why.
But it was kind of cool, to read all of those posts...fifteen of them, I think. The only reason I have this blog is because of him - he kind of inspired me to go beyond Facebook with my writing. And I really really like it.
It's so cool to think that my writing is going places beyond what I aim for. I don't write for the world to see, I write for specific people a lot of the time.
And about writing to specific people...
The one person I feel like I've been writing to for the past year has unexpectedly almost fallen to the wayside, recently. I don't understand why. We just haven't talked for the longest time like we used to. I wonder how he's doing.
I know that I miss him. But I also know that...for whatever reason...I don't view him the same way that I did when I sent him that last long message.
I still think of him as a very important person in my life. I don't want to lose him.
It's very hard to explain, what I'm thinking right now.
It seems as if I'm writing for someone else a lot more, now.
--
For my birthday, I made gifts for those I hold very dearly in my life.
One of the recipients has healthily used his copy, and he told me so.
He told me that gift (and reading stuff I've previously written) have given him inspiration for his writing assignments in his college classes.
The thing is...I feel like I don't write to inspire people. I write because if I don't, I go crazy.
I remember back in the summer, one of my friends kept a Tumblr. Some of the things he wrote about...oh, I can't even begin to describe it.
His entries made me physically sick. My stomach was all kinds of fucked up. And that didn't even compare to how my heart was doing, whenever I'd read his entries.
I'd be so mad. Good God, I'd be so mad. I'd think, "Where's the you that I love? Am I loving a person that doesn't even exist anymore?"
I have so many unsent letters to him during that month.
When he started a new blog, I sent him a message and told him I hoped it would be different from the other one. Then I told him how the other one made me feel.
He said, "Why didn't you tell me it made you feel that way? I'm so sorry - I really am."
It's your blog. You do what you want with it.
If you gotta write, you gotta write.
And I write with no holds barred. I enjoy reading people that write in the same way...especially people I know.
I always think I know people, until they write. Then I see another side of them.
I love that.
--
So, on Saturday I drove to Whiteland so I could be with Caleb Tucker and his family. We were going to watch Notre Dame and Purdue duke it out. It was the first time I had been to Whiteland in six years...it was so bizarre. I used to live south of it, in a town called Nineveh. Oddly enough, Whiteland hadn't changed as much as Franklin had in those six years. It was quite trippy, if you want to know the truth.
But anyway. The game.
It was really fun. Such a good game. And I typically don't follow the Irish.
Except, now, I totally will. I was converted on Saturday afternoon, in that garage.
And Caleb's family. They were such nice people. I felt like I was immediately welcomed into the fold. I could talk to any of them. And I finally met his sister, Emily. She is every bit as cool as Caleb said she was.
After Notre Dame won, Caleb and his uncle Dave started to play guitar and bass right there in the garage.
I love Dave's tat. It's a bass clef in front of a Japanese-character-like thing. It was very cool. Just thought I'd mention this before we go any further.
Caleb started to play bass, and we were all rendered to silence. The music resonated in our chests, fileld the garage with sweet, deep tones.
I snapped pics, trying to capture the magic that consumed my ears and my heart. (yeah, that was corny...)
Faintly, his stepdad, Ryan, murmured "He has no idea how talented he is."
"It's a gift from God," Dave agreed. "The day Caleb was made, God said 'Caleb Tucker, you will be a bass player.' And look at him now."
Yeah. Look at him now.
Not classically trained. Just picks up an instrument and is able to rip it up.
It amazes me.
Unfortunately, I had to leave.
When I got home, I wished I was back with Caleb. My wonderful day now had a cloud over it. I was pissed.
However, Caleb texted me to tell me that Ryan really likes me and thinks that I am "so fucking cool."
That, and a few other things we ended up discussing, made me smile. If anything, it made me feel less one-sided about everything. I'm not elaborating.
It gave me some hope.
Hope is a good thing. And so is happiness.
I can only hope that I give those things to him, during those nights that he loses his confidence and crumbles a little bit inside.
I've been there. And I know it isn't easy to reassemble yourself. I know it isn't easy to allow yourself to grasp that new possibility. But eventually...you do. You don't realize it...but you are grasping it and you aren't going back.
I'll be there for it all. It's interesting witnessing that process in someone else.
Someone that's not me.
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I don't really know what else I got.
Except for this.
Have no fear.
I love you.
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