Friday, October 26, 2012

Love and Betrayal

I have no big lead up today. I have no point. The only thing I want this post to be about is the question I pose. Here it is:

Is it old fashion of me to think that if you're going to say "I love you" to someone that it's too much of a stretch for those simple words to mean, "I commit myself to you. You are not only enough for me, but everything for me?" Why is it today that promising yourself to a single other person, who is the part of you that is missing, is so difficult? Is it because you feel like you're boring because the fleeting thrill of the initial attraction is gone and not what makes you a complete couple anymore? Because something about being an adult (and you better be an adult if you're going to commit to someone) isn't as fun? What is so wrong with really loving someone else?

I hate the word 'cheating.' To me, cheating means your eyes slide and look at your neighbors test so you can gain a better score. Cheating in a relationship only loses you something. Twice now, in my life, I have been involved in cases of cheating (not as one of the two in the couple, but very closely related) and the effects and devastation and heartbreak from this betrayal (and I prefer the word 'betraly' because that's more accurately what it is). Why betray the person you are suppose to love? The person you commit and promise yourself to?

I have to sit and watch how it tears people apart - people who have been betrayed and those who were the betrayer. Especially when it was just a big, horrible, stupid mistake. Why even bother doing it, because it cancels out all of the wonderful times from the past and steals away the happy times that were planned for the future.

It all just makes me sick. It breaks my heart every time I think about it. And there's nothing I can do.

Saturday, October 13, 2012

Definitive Pictures








Definitive

I don't know if I've mentioned previously in this blog or not, but I'm really big into photography. I love taking photos and looking for different perspectives and new ways to look at things. I nearly went to school for photography, but for too many complicated reasons to list, I didn't. I know the tendency of people to consider themselves a professional (or at least really good) in something they take on as a hobby when they're really not that good or simply mediocer, taking photos happens to be one of the few things I'm really good at. Even before I realized I was good, I had friends and family telling me that I was. It took me a bit to start paying attention to them to realize this is something I not only enjoy doing, but I also happen to be good at (the difference between enjoying and being good at something is like my singing - I like doing it, but I'm never going to win American Idol).

Ok, so what does all this have to do with anything? Since I've been back from Europe (a whole chronicle at www.stephislostonpurpose.blogspot.com ) I've felt a little bored. I've been job hunting for something to use my degree in, but there's nothing, and that whole 'stalled' thing comes into play again. There's not much for me to do when I'm not working, so I've decided to sort of pursue my 'photography.' Normally what I shoot are really close up photos (uncomfortably close photos is what I call them when I get really close to a person), but I do occasionally shoot what I call 'character studies.' Where it's not a portrait or a landscape, but simply a unique image.

I'm getting to my point really quick now (I just needed to explain a bit about what and how I do things so there's some understanding in some of the photos I'll put up).

The other day, I went to a local graveyard to do a shoot (I know it sounds creepy, but I really like graveyards. I find them peaceful places). Anyway, as I was doing my shoot, and reading the names on all the gravestones, I found myself thinking about the lives these people lived. The sorrows they suffered (plenty of infants were buried there), the happiness, and everything else in between. I realized all of these people were dead. There's nothing left of them except maybe some descendants, and a name and a date carved into stone. It made me realize that nothing we do in this life matters after we die. I'm not saying that we shouldn't strive to be good people, but the embarrassments we feel, the uncertainties that hinder us, don't end up mattering. So if you're afraid to ask someone out, when you're buried and 100 years later someone is walking on your grave, that doesn't matter any more. If you're afraid of taking a risk because you're not sure how it'll turn out, it doesn't matter. Death is final in so many ways. We need to live kindly and with love to have full lives, but everything else doesn't matter. Our end is absolute. Our deaths are definitive. But our uncertainties are nothing more than the grip of death choking us out long before it is our time to go.

Living fully is hard to do. And it took walking through a graveyard and thinking about the people who are already gone to help me come to the conclusion to do so. Death is final, but a life can be just as definitive.