With A Little Help From My Friends

It's been rough lately, and readers of my blog (quite aside from the ego boost I get when I see the number of views rise) know that I don't say much unless I have something unhappy to say. These last couple of months, I've said a lot. Up until this last week, things were as dark as they have been in years. Sunday night was quite a beast, even compared to the weeks leading up to it. But since that night, things have brightened significantly, and it's all due to my friends...

Since Monday night, I've learned a thing or three about the people who love me. Namely, when things get rough, there are people in my life who will go out of their way to make certain I'm gonna make it. When I was in my deepest, darkest, slimy pit, people in my life found me, gave me a hand, and pulled me out. This experience has also led me to remember the people who gave me advice before this past week, people who look out for me and want the best for me and are willing to devote their time, their attention, their words, and their hearts to the pursuit of my happiness.

I had started taking such a cynical view of life, started believing that there was one person and one person only who was looking after me, just one soul who had my best interests at heart, one person I could trust. That person was me and me alone. I was the only person I could count on to make certain I was getting along, the only one who could pull me out of darkness and into light. I was wrong.

Now I know without a doubt that I have friends—true, close, caring friends. Friends who don't rest without knowing that I'm gonna be okay, if only for one more day. Words don't express the relief and joy I feel because of this.

What's more—I still believe in love. It can be said that every relationship that ends is a failed relationship, but I don't agree. Things can work with someone for a long while, and though it may not last forever, they absolutely are capable of bringing happiness for any period of time before the final day, be it years, weeks, or even a few hours. Failure of a relationship to endure until "death do you part" is not necessarily a failed relationship.

I've been hurt, and I've hurt others. I've been engaged twice; once to the wrong person, and once at the wrong time in my life. I've been a cheater, and I've been cheated on. I've wept and I've raged at the hurt and unfairness of it all—it's a song I've sung many times. But one of the most important realizations I've made in this life o' mine is that even though I haven't had the fortune of finding the right woman at the right time, I still believe in the possibility. I haven't given up hope. Somewhere out there is the right woman for me, and I won't stop keeping an eye out for her, no matter how many times I burn myself reaching for the fire. There's always a fresh substance underneath the ashes.

Such is the power of hope.

Through it all, my heart still beats, and it beats for thee, my love—wherever you are.