They call me Superman; I have no superpowers. They call me a warrior; I have no weapons. A soldier they say, only, I wear no uniform. It may be hard to believe for some, though I never had much difficulty, but I’m human, just like everyone else. What I don’t understand is why I’m still alive. Considering the condition of my heart, I really shouldn’t be here.
Ever since I got out of the hospital, I’ve been struggling to remain focused. It seems I’ve lost my sense of direction, even purpose. However, the foundation I’ve built through the years keeps reminding me that something is out there, waiting for its discovery. I suppose with this disease, you have to create everything from nothing, and in my case, recreation is necessary. Romance was a desire of mine for years, and now, amid all this “recovery”, it looks to be a distant non-memory. I need to find a way to make it a present non-memory again.
What I must remember is that while love is impossible, this new freedom I possess will allow me the time to manufacture the dreams I’ve longed for. I need to finish that novel because through words, all becomes possible. I fight like hell, therefore I must write like hell as I begin here.
Truth be told, writing on this matter makes me sad every time, but the more broken I am, the better I do. Sorrow motivates me to continue without hesitation as my thirst grows. You can’t stop a man with nothing to lose. I know when I write about romance, a handful of disabled boys start feeling uneasy because they feel as though they were backhanded in some way. I’ve seen how people are consumed by bitterness.
For me, as a younger man, I had always been envious of friends and family falling in love and getting married, while I endure loneliness. Maturity gave me the realization as to the reason I never resented the girls and women who rejected or changed their minds on me throughout the years of my life. I never had the heart as I was only grateful for being able to own the privilege of loving them for a moment in mortal time.
Since the very beginning, I’ve noticed something beautiful about them that I could not pinpoint, yet finding it has been my reason for existence from eternity past in my mind. Many wonder how I keep rising above my daily challenges. They don’t understand there is more in my heart than these never-ending hardships; a destination to follow. Upon my first big fall, I heard in my heart, whispering, “Everything is going to be okay.” I never stopped searching for someone to claim her voice.
I remember back in February of ‘09, during my first ever date, I asked Jeannie if she wanted something more, to which she agreed. I guess she decided otherwise when she realized what being my girlfriend would entail while cleaning her room that night. Of course, everyone thought she broke my heart, but I held no resentment against her. I felt guilty instead as she lost the one person who would guide her and make her feel a little less alone. I was sorry that I broke her heart in thoughts of breaking mine. Because of her, I learned what it meant to genuinely love someone. It was to simply love her.
Am I a hero? By no means, nor do I strive to be one. I only know there is more to life than this constant suffering. This is why giving up is not in me, even when I don’t know what I’m fighting for most of the time. I want someone to talk to forever and kiss my forehead sometimes. My physical heart is weak, but my inner heart is stronger than steel.