beginnings

I struggled for a few days trying to figure out how to start this. I couldn’t decide if an anecdote about beginnings, a sore reflection of my year, or some random train of thought would best fit the picture I’m trying to paint. Maybe that’s kind of the perfect way to talk about it. Beginnings aren’t easy, they’re not planned, nor given away freely. You earn them. I want to trust that they are nothing more than a bold leap of faith. I think you have to let go of that version of yourself you got so comfortable being before, and have the bravery to step into the you that you’ve not had the courage to explore. Beginnings have been on my mind. They’re always right in front of you. Sometimes all it takes is a look. 

So here are my unedited thoughts about beginnings. I'm just going to take the leap and let my hands flow and translate the thoughts of what I’m trying to get out. Bear with me.

I remember the first time I went to New York City. I was a young kid with my mom, carsick and ecstatic, an entire six hour drive. At this point, I was determined to become an actor, perform on broadway, be on SNL, all that bullshit. I obsessively checked my phone for some peace of mind that the city didn't disappear before I got the chance to see it. New York never really felt like a real place; it definitely didn’t seem like other places either. This city was always so mysteriously unobtainable. A dream life, just so slightly out of reach from the tip of your fingers. Just like music in your head you can’t find the name to. It’s a place where people are bigger than they ever were before. It has charm, grit, and heart. Eventually, we crossed the George Washington bridge and I saw it. Around sunset, the sharp points of those famous buildings poking into the dying light of the sky. It felt hopeful. Alive. Seeing New York for the first time was more magical than being shown Harry Potter, and that shit is pretty fucking magical. We did the typical touristy things during the days that followed our arrival. We saw some Broadway shows, went to all the cool toy stores, and ate our weight in pizza. Despite it all, I actually didn't enjoy the trip. It didn't click; my mind felt busy.

Years later, moments after I turned 21, I came back. I went on a trip with my girlfriend at the time. We stayed at a place called the Roxy in the financial district not far from the One World Trade building downtown. She was there to take some dance classes and interview at a few companies. I was there to take some pictures, get some videos, and whatever else an aspiring filmmaker does when they're in New York. After surviving our uncomfortable, grueling 9-hour bus ride, we made it. It was raining, foggy, and very late. It felt very strange, like an old film noir. There were maybe a handful of people we saw during our walk to the hotel; where was everyone? Funny enough though, walking 14 blocks in temperamental weather after a long bus ride is the most backhanded and wonderful welcome you can get from the city. I enjoyed every second of that. We check in (almost didn’t get to due to a computer error on the hotel’s end) and drop off our stuff in the room. I don’t think we spoke a word, but from the sounds of our stomachs, we knew we needed to eat. The walk was quite refreshing; the rain had stopped at this point. The glow of endless, towering buildings shot soft beams of warm light through the thick fog above us. Not knowing where we were, we wanted the closest thing we could find; neon lights grabbed our attention. As we got closer to the stairway that led down to whatever cellar this restaurant was, the prowess of a suave piano player started to grab my attention. Then a few more steps. Saxophones, trumpets, light drums, all started to play. We hesitantly stepped inside and saw it; this is where everyone was. A smoky room with worn seats around small wooden tables. A bar pinned to the edge of the room, tilted and falling apart. The band on a “stage”, 2 inches off the floor. Not a phone in sight. Everyone and everything that ever existed in our universe was in this room. Right here, alive and breathing, through the shared experience of being exactly where we were meant to be. I forgot about my appetite; it didn’t matter anymore. We sat down, love and belonging right before our eyes, spirit and heart all around our ears. We clinked our glasses. Cheers. This is the moment I fell in love with New York City. I promised myself as I laid in bed that night, the city up and humming, that I will end up here. I’ve had many trips since that, and I still promise myself every single time I go. Routine manifests results.

Early spring of this year, I made the decision to move to New York City. The city has been, and always will remain, my favorite place. Like I said, New York always seemed so mysteriously unobtainable, but now strangely in reach. One of the hardest things was battling with the choice to leave everyone. I guess you don’t really know that feeling until you let it in. I had friends happy for me, friends that cried for me, and stared at the pain in the eyes of best friends who’d die for me. That was a hard two weeks. I was completely coming apart, in a shadow of my old self; I was chasing something I would never catch up to. I was never ready for that kind of move yet. It wasn’t right, not at this moment in time. I had new opportunities at work, which has been something that I can’t miss out on. A real opportunity to do something to shape the rest of my career and life. I also met someone, which swayed my opinion. It took a huge leap of faith to choose to move to New York, and an even bigger one to realize it shouldn’t happen yet. I think that the events that followed my decision to stay in Pittsburgh, as well as the inevitable end of said relationship, taught me more about myself than I ever could have imagined. I have finally felt like I fit in somewhere, and have people around me that I consider family. I also knew that I had a lot of work to do in Pittsburgh, and I can’t pass on an opportunity to leave my mark on a place forever. As for the relationship, I know now exactly what I’m looking for and what I’m certainly not looking for.

This relationship with said person was honestly really great; I was excited all the time and did so much to make them happy. I would constantly see them any chance I had free time, gave them 110% of myself, and was comfortable in a relationship (which I haven’t had in a long time). However, in hindsight, rose-colored glasses were surgically attached onto my face. It was one-sided; I can’t remember any time I felt that I received the same level of effort or care from that person. I am utterly, regrettably, and shamefully the biggest loverboy/sunshine & daisies/romantic/daydreamer/ibelieveintrueloveatfirstsightforsomefuckingreason/destiny/soulmates/etc…etc…etc… you’ll ever meet. I hate that about myself because liking someone is so painful whenever they're not like that. I also love it about myself because when I do love someone, it's a dream to experience that with them. They were not a bad person by any means, just the wrong person for me. I was so obsessed with the idea of them and also the idealistic view of what could be. I find myself doing that a lot. It’s always: “What if they’re the one? They’re perfect for me even though I don’t know them! If I care and show them how I love even more, they’re surely going to reciprocate. Maybe I just need to be (x, y, z) and then they’ll like me.” All those old chestnuts. 

However, through the inevitable end of this relationship I came to realize I never loved them, nor did I even understand the concept of what I view love as. I grew up, and grew in mind. I understood, finally. Love is a lot like beginnings. It isn’t easy, it’s not expected, and it’s not given away freely. You have to just take a leap of faith, even if it’s hard, to just trust that it will come to you whenever you need it the most. Plus, I know now that I shouldn't have to alter or change who I am for someone else; the right person will appreciate me exactly as I am, and I won't have to change myself to be something I'm not. I think once you start understanding to stop living for other people, and to just live for yourself and be unwaveringly true to who you are, you find the person who can match your energy wholeheartedly. I knew that if I could do all of that, I could find someone who would care just as much as I would for them. Waiting to find someone, and searching while “not searching” is painful. It has been very lonely recently. Though, I’ve always felt pretty lonely, always waiting for that right person. I’ve been in love before, and during those few times I’m happy. However, when I’m not, It’s hard to shake that overarching feeling of being by yourself (romantically, of course). I miss that feeling of being with someone. I miss the feeling of being so comfortable with someone and their presence alone feels like a weight off your shoulders. Waking up beside someone who has a case of bed-head or stinky morning breath but nevertheless thinking to yourself, “I’ve never loved anyone more than I do you, in this moment, right now.” I miss being in love. 

Dating people that aren’t right for you never really feels the same. It isn’t comfortable, you never feel that warm spark in your chest from just a thought of them, and in the words of real vampire Edward Cullen talking about the blood of animals, “you’re never fully satisfied”. But loving someone; that is truly a fire in your veins. A superpower. Someone you can’t stop thinking about. Seeing something so insignificantly random, but finding a way how it reminds you of them. Being able to hold their heart (and your own) in each other's hands. It is the ultimate sacrifice and vulnerability. The biggest leap of faith. I want that so badly, to be loved so truly, and to love someone so wholeheartedly that they’d never question (even for a second) how much they mean to me. However when not in love; you start to feel like you’re out of time, you start to have a lot of self doubts, and you feel as if you can’t get out of your own skin. Even when lonely, the world doesn’t stop. People on the street holding hands, every instagram post is about a couple, wedding invitations, or lovebirds enjoying a quiet coffee in a park. I love seeing people in love, but sometimes it’s a hot branding iron going directly onto my chest. It hurts. Though, that is a beautiful thing about life. I think we all desire to have that person we love, and when we aren’t experiencing that, your body and mind have a physical and chemical reaction to it. Love is wired into the very essence of what it means to be human.

I want to do it right this time. I think it’s a hopeful feeling beginning to care for someone. Especially if it is someone you’d never imagine you’d ever care for. You make yourself sick with the thought of them; a poison to your self-confidence and the antidote to it simultaneously. The constant and neverending labyrinth of connecting dots of “do they like me, or don’t they like me?” I’m in that right now, and it keeps me up at night. I honestly never looked at a person in this way before. I haven’t noticed them prior to this, or even had the thought “oh they’re attractive, I should pursue this.” After recent events though, that’s kind of perfect for me. You look for something and yearn for it so badly, that one person that just has all the qualities you need. Little did I know it was right in front of me. Like I’ve said, the things that matter and will impact your life will just kind of fall into your lap. Why didn’t I realize just how pretty they are, how mature and attractive their mind is (they’re so fucking smart), or how magnetic their genuine care for the people in their life is. It struck me like a bolt of lightning randomly and unknowingly; I’m still trying to catch my breath. Sometimes it keeps me up in the best way, imagining how lovely and perfect it would be. Other times, it isn’t as pleasant and doubtful thoughts make their way in. Soon, I’m going to just have to take a leap of faith and confess how I feel. I mean if a very real and special love is moments away, it is worth the risk. What could ever be so embarrassing or humiliating , to get in the way of possibly being one of the best things that happen to you. The crazy part of this is beginning to notice things about them you’ve never dared to see before. The way their eyes look when they laugh, the smell of their perfume when they let their hair down, the taunting/charming names they call you, or the crinkle in their eyebrow when they’re focused on something. What’s even worse is the eye contact a hot knife couldn’t sever. Did they notice me? Are their eyes saying the same that mine are? Your heart stops beating and you lose your words so easily as if you’ve never spoken a day in your life. Do they notice when I stammer? Can they see my nerves? Either way, I’m beginning to feel unrecognizably unlike myself. It is worth it. I want to keep feeling electricity flow through my body at the sight of them, air getting kicked from my lungs when they’re beside me, and hopefully one day the comfort of knowing we’re both completely and utterly vulnerable to each other.

So yeah, beginnings aren’t easy. They’re not given away freely. They certainly aren’t planned. All of the things I tried to “plan” this year haven’t worked out, and I’m happy they didn’t. I think the biggest lesson I’ve learned is that I need to stop planning, and start living. I certainly didn’t expect to still be in Pittsburgh. I didn’t expect to be doing the things I get to do at work. I never would have predicted I would catch feelings for the person that I did. However, I really believe these are things fate has lined up for me; an opportunity for kismet. I have never really liked beginnings that much and I’ve never been that bold. I guess all I can do now is just trust it all, and take that leap of faith one last time.