Life is strange. Relationships are strange. We're strange in our own little ways. Bundled together and shared together, it becomes a 'thought to be' predictable venture, sometimes ending up to find out you were strangers all along, whether together for a year or for twenty. Change is good. Evolving from "one person" to "this person" is okay. When it involves someone else who is changing in a different direction, it might sever the ties that bind that particular relationship. Some people never leave a relationship that has taken two different paths because well, "they've invested so much into it" or "they have a history together". When it involves kids, it becomes more about being selfless or selfish. Whose happiness are you sacrificing besides your own? But, we all want to be happy. We all want that "perfect relationship" and I'm here to say there is no such animal. You either have to accept the imperfections to make it "perfect" or you have to decide whether or not to stay or leave. Ending a relationship or marriage that went beyond ten years, a house, some pets and maybe a kid or five means adapting to a whole new lifestyle - a whole new "life" in itself. It means moving out of your home, or having the people you love move out of your home --- whichever the case, the life is completely thrown up into the air with a bunch of uncertainties...and that scares us. So we stay. We try. We tolerate what we cannot stand. We grumble. We bitch and moan. We...are miserable.

The younger generation seems to think that you need the spark even after 5 or 10 years. In my opinion, this is why there are so many divorces. People give up so quickly once that fiery passion fades. I do believe that "passion" turns into a more loving experience in terms of intimacy, a "connection". And I dare the next person who says they still have butterflies in their tummy with their longtime spouse by taking a polygraph test. Sure, I believe there's love, but it's not like when they first met, or even the first year of dating. It's just different. Also, it's not a bad thing. There are stages of love.

1. The courting stage (with the passion and butterflies we all want to keep forever)
2. The planning stage (nesting and setting up for the future)
3. The contentment stage (where you are comfortable, relaxed and have a newfound love - a "family" type of love for your partner) 

What happens when you're at stage 2 or 3 and your partner wants to trek it back to stage 1 again? Or, your partner or spouse goes through some midlife crisis, where he or she wants to live in a bar or go clubbing - a more "unsettled" life, as it was in stage 1, but for you, it's not so exciting anymore. Maybe an argument over that new convertible Porsche sitting in the garage or perhaps a night out with the boys becomes more of a daily happy hour venture that runs into all hours of the night. And of course, what if someone slips and has an affair because they found a "stage 1" type of feeling? The "stand by your man" statement was made in what --- the 1930's? Well, Hillary Clinton did it, but then again, maybe it was just to save her political career. I'm sure many women would have backed up her decision to divorce the feisty hubby in the oval office, but I think "traditional values" are more sought after when you're in such a high position. But what about for us little guys? We'd be shunned by our friends and family if we stayed with someone who cheated on us --- even once. I do believe in forgiveness and slip ups, but let's face it, a tiger never changes their stripes.

Commonality. It's rare to find. I am not a believer in "opposites attract" -- and I mean that in the sense of polar opposites. I also think you can't date your clone either. (At least for me, for good reason.) Now what I'm about to say needs to be taken with a grain of salt and an opened mind. A little more than 50 years ago, interracial couples weren't allowed to get married legally. It was also seen as a "sin" within society - or looked down upon for reasons of either 'not knowing their roots to the fullest extent' or just not adapting the culture whatsoever. People have overcome that and progressed so much throughout time. We've come together more, shared more, accepted more. But what happens when you date someone after a period of time and start to realize that you are still not adapting to their culture, to the ways that their family celebrates certain holidays or even, how they still feel tense around you due to your lack of knowledge of their race? You can't use the same terminology around them or perhaps you feel awkward talking at all, feeling judged and ridiculed over every word that goes against their accent or slang and lack thereof. On the up side, you have to be one helluva' confident person to keep plugging along in that relationship with all the challenges of the opposing cultures. It takes strength and determination to learn and share with people who maybe have no clue about your own heritage. They don't have to make an effort if they don't want to - it's all up to you to put your best foot forward, and sometimes that just isn't enough. If you're not "in" with their family, then half your partner's heart is elsewhere. If you don't combine your union with the extended family, it will be an eternal conflict, well at least until the relationship or marriage is over.

What's the glue that keeps your relationship or marriage together? Or, why do you think your relationship or marriage fell apart too soon?

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So I thought to myself, "Wow, I'm not even hungry," and it was nearing 8pm. I poured my second martini on a somewhat empty stomach and nothing was temping my palate at the moment. With my corny background music blaring Amy Winehouse's "The Girl From Ipanema", I was feeling a bit fuzzy - a bit "silent" in my mind. I had no thoughts, no words rushing through my head or the many questions I pose to the poor man up above who has to hear every single complaint that I toss into his box. I trekked onto my Facebook account and saw a "message from God" -- one of those little apps that make you feel like, "Oh wow! God sent me an email!" Well, not really. Of course it gives you an option to become an instant pastor and that you can always donate to them, if you're generous enough. It said that my life was full of my own "chatter" and to be still and listen to my spirit and the spirit that speaks to me. It told me to shut up basically. Surely you can't mean my blog, I mean, that's what I do, I write, I talk, I, I, I, say too much...maybe?  And since writing is what I do for a living, I'm noticing that I'm not writing for "me" -- I mean, in the passionate sense when one becomes a real writer - someone who has heart and soul into their unpaid work. But now, it's a job. And I was afraid that this would happen. Sometimes, I'll just plop a post onto my blog so that it's mirrored onto websites that pay me for my thoughts and frivolous ramblings. Thankfully, there's a second gig that fulfills the gap in my bank account (not so much). So I write. I talk. I speak. I've even gained a unique following mostly from Vietnam. Don't ask. I'm grateful, but a bit puzzled. Emails from suicidal teens sometimes appear in my inbox or the occasional closeted housewife who has ten kids wants to know if "becoming a lesbian" would be a bad thing. Strange stuff.

But I digress.

Silence.

In every sense of the word, "silence" - that's been resonating within me ever since I found out Dad was given a six months to live. My wife and I are believers, so we would say, "Well that's what the doctor says, but God has different plans. Only He knows." Sadly, the doctors were spot on - exactly six months Dad went to heaven. I used to think, "What would our world be like without Dad?" And now I know -- it's very silent. Not only was he loud (and sometimes obnoxious in a funny way), but his presence  - his enthusiasm for life - even if it meant just sitting outside BBQing - he was excited about everything. At huge functions, his voice would stand out from the rest. You definitely would know Dad was around. Wherever he was, you felt safe. Even when he was sick and intoxicated beyond belief from all the oxycontin they kept him on, he still managed to mutter out, "Ya need help? Want me to do dat' for ya?" He couldn't even if he tried, but his spirit was willing. This is what made me think he'd last longer than six months, at least a few more years. But the silence keeps growing. No more wheezy laughter howling from the other room or his heavy equipment outside rumbling the earth with their loud engines. It's strange. With that being said, I'm finding my passion for life has taken somewhat of a break. I know it's normal to grieve and take some time off to 'get it together', but my passion for the things I used to do has somewhat fizzled out. You can call it depression or the blues, but I call it the missing link syndrome. I guess it's pretty much normal and things are getting better, but there are times when it's too silent around here.

There are a lot of "big character people" in my family - those you would totally notice if they were out of your life. That's what makes it even more terrifying. So, I pour another drink to calm my racing thoughts, perhaps to even completely silence them. It works for the meantime. And although I keep the "moderation" tightly secure, I do notice that it's been on a daily basis ever since the big guy booked it into heaven. The one thing I never dabble into is my summer evening smokes. Yes, I am a reformed smoker - quit over 15 yrs ago, however once in a blue moon, I'll have a smoke on a nice summer night by the fire pit or just hanging out having a few cocktails. Once I saw what smoking did to my father, I haven't lit one up in over two years. I tried therapy and grief counseling and all of them made me feel worse for some reason. (That's just me.) I even tried antidepressants and that made me feel not only loopy, but absolutely out of my mind psychotic. The pharmaceutical companies love it when your mind tells you, "Hey, it's working, be happy" when all it's doing is making you tolerate horrible side effects for a mere buck or two, and for us, an arm and a leg. "Oh wait two weeks and you'll feel better."  Bullshit.

The best thing I ever did (as you know by now) was get a dog. She's a great sentinel, can hear a moth from miles away (which can also be annoying at 3am), but the love this dog gives is just amazing. She fills the silence most of the time. Sadly, even when I pray, there is way too much silence. I used to hear God all the time, or was that my mind...or was that just a hint for me to be silent and listen to Him? Another little reminder to "shut up" again. My outlets range from writing music, playing guitar, photography and of course, writing. But I need more - something different that'll at least hold my attention for more than five minutes at a time. Even cooking has been a task for me. My cooking blog has suffered long enough, but the other day I managed to make a huge "Thanksgiving-like" dinner for Madelene. I don't know what got into me but I was cooking up a storm. It used to be another passion of mine that is slowly fading with time. Now it's like, "What about Chinese takeout or maybe just throw a few hamburgers on the grill" type of thing. Things are becoming simpler, quieter, more introspective. I used to love holding big parties at my place, but after having the last few, I found out it was much harder than expected - it terms of I just didn't feel up to catering to people - although I did it anyway. It mentally exhausted me. I didn't even get to sit and chat with the people who came. I just served and ran around like a chicken without a head. It's not that I don't love catering for people, it's just that I need a much needed break. My break comes this June. I'll be leaving for over a week to the Hamptons to unwind, relax, and watch the ocean as I sip on my self-medicated potions. So please bear with me if my posts are minimal, more low-key and a bit raw. I'll be back to myself in no time. For now, I just have to fill the silence.

When you try your best, but you don't succeed 
When you get what you want, but not what you need 
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep 
Stuck in reverse 
And the tears come streaming down your face 
When you lose something you can't replace 
When you love someone, but it goes to waste 
Could it be worse? ~Coldplay

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The one thing I've learned over time is that you never know if your date or lover is a "penned up ax murderer" until she becomes one. In Travis Alexander's blog, he states, "Desperately trying to find out if my date has an axe murderer penned up inside of her and knowing she is wondering the same thing about me. That’s usually when I think myself into a panic and start acting weird in consequence to trying so hard to act normal." Have you ever been in a position where someone you knew, loved and cared for just finally flipped their lid and revealed their true colors? It can be very scary and unsettling to say the least. But what if you never knew the potential killer underneath the sweet, smiling beautiful girl you once loved, and now...you had to end the relationship. But it doesn't end there. I have been diligently following the Jodi Arias trial, even falling asleep to it (which isn't such a good idea). But then they have the news afterwards dedicated to the trial. I have it on while I'm working just to stay on top of things. What's there to figure out? She already lied a zillion times and then admitted to the murder. But, cases like we've seen with the Casey Anthony trial, I'm almost positive that Jodi is going to get out of this scott free somehow and write a book that makes her millions of dollars. Maybe she'll have to do 10 years max and then get out by the time she's 40 years young. And how fucking sad is that? This incredible, smart, talented and funny man, Travis Alexander (you can see his charm here) is now dead because of her.  She took this beautiful life away - just like that - and all because she wasn't willing to wait out the heartbreak. I've been there. I didn't want things to end and begged and pleaded for forgiveness. It hurts. But what goes through a person's mind that makes them believe that they have some authority over their ex-lover's life? "Well if I can't have you, no one else will." They develop this sense of 'ownership' over the person to where the ex-lover in some cases has no clue about any of it. They simply go through the "normal" process of a breakup, whether it be moping around for a bit or completely over it.

My mother watches these awful shows, like "Snapped" and stuff on this channel that I believe is called, "I.D.". She watches this before bedtime and tells me the next day, "My God, I had such horrific dreams about a man stabbing his wife." I'm just like, "I wonder why..."  I remember watching this show (forgive me, I forgot which one), but they were demonstrating the functions of two sets of brains. One was from a sociopath and the other from a normal everyday person. Of course, the sociopath has no remorse or fear of consequences when committing a crime. But when they put two brains of your everyday average Joe together, they found something interesting. In the front part of the brain (right underneath the forehead area), they discovered a unique trait that is almost comparable to a "shield" -- a shield that prevents them from ever committing a murder. Although the two brains were alike, the one without the shield was from your average everyday person who happened to have killed someone - either by manslaughter or other. The difference was, that piece of "shield" discovered much about the person's crime. Of course, you can't use this in a court, just as you can't use a polygraph test, but it does say something about how our brain is somehow responsible for our actions, or lack thereof. They also indicated that even people who were "seemingly crazy" (bad temper, popping their cork, etc.) had this shield, while usually, the calmest person in the batch did not. So it's kind of true when they say, "It's the silent ones you have to worry about." In my personal opinion, the person who holds in all of their feelings and never truly has an outlet for all of their sadness, anger and rage are the ones who usually "snap".  For the nuts out there (like myself) who go off the edge from time to time ranting and raving -- we've already said our peace and poured out our frustrations. Our inner emotional box is empty. For those who keep it all in, that box is bursting at the seams. What do you think?

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