the waiting is the hardest part

Yea, waiting isn't necessarily correct, but there's nothing wrong with a little literary license, especially where Tom Petty lyrics are concerned.

So I came across this beautiful little nugget today. I've always been a proponent of my finding a lady/girl/chick/woman/spouse/wife/companion/soulmate/sugar momma, who would allow me to stay at home and write blogs and surf for silly AP stories and read up on gadget news and of course, play video games all day. Notice take care of kids is not in that list. Anywho, it looks like my time may finally have arrived.

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affectation

You know, I think I'm starting to figure out what my deal is. For as many years as I can remember I've been in and out of relationships. Period. Notice how that sentence cuts short with no explanation, no emotion? Yea, I did too, and that in and of itself is a statement. For some reason, unknown to me at the moment, I can't let anyone get close. I desire it. I yearn for it. I seek it out. However, the time comes for me to step that final step to being with someone and I decline. I draw back into myself and forsake everything that I have. Everything that has been given to me by this other person. All of the promises I've made to myself and to them. What is that about anyway? Crickets.

I am unable to take the simplest, most basic human need: connection, and apply it in a concerted way. It is so upsetting. It is so frustrating. The worst part about this 'condition' is that I have fairly decent knowledge of psychology, brain chemistry, emotional conditioning and responses; I'm a smart guy, I understand things easily, I work things out quickly, I can take things apart, figure out how they work and correctly put them back together. I'm empathetic and sympathetic to other's problems and have enough versatility to offer a new perspective to help them with their problems and yet I still can't "solve" my own problem. It's not like I don't care about people, because I believe I do, but I guess the best way to say it is I am unaffected by people.

I don't know how many times I've been told that I don't feel, that I don't show appreciation, that I don't show love, that I don't seem excited or happy or sad or angry. Nor can I accept the love, hurt, appreciation, worry, sorrow from others. I just don't know what to do with it, I don't know how to act, I don't know what to say, I don't know how to accept it and I don't know how to reciprocate it. Compliments, care, love, appreciation, praise, concern; I don't like them when directed towards me. I'm not comfortable with someone missing me, I'm not comfortable with someone worrying about me, actually, I don't even consider that people have those feelings about me. Sure, rationally, cranially, intellectually, I get them, but do I feel them? Not much, if ever.

Don't get me wrong, I do feel. I sit in my apartment and cry at the "guy lost the girl" parts of movies, I get warm and fuzzy during the "family finally comes together" parts, I laugh when I find something funny, I get angry when someone's being a dick, I do feel. But I kinda don't care. I don't care if anyone is reading this; in fact I would probably prefer if no one did because I'm probably provoking some emotion that I know I probably wouldn't have if someone else were writing this. If I never see you again I know I would be just fine, with very few exceptions, and it doesn't affect me (nor does it have an effect on me).

What does that make me? What does that say about me? That I can go through my life with this cyborg presence, unaffected by the actions of others; i.e., unaccepting of the presence of others. What does all of this mean? I wish I knew. I wish I knew why, I wish I knew how I got this way, I wish I could put into words more elegant than I've been able to what it really is, but even my words are failing me. What does this mean for my future? Who knows.

I have search results, therefore I am.

Search yourself. Go ahead, do it, it's fine. In fact, you should know how much of yourself is on the interwebs.

Once upon a time I would search myself and the only results about Dayne Morris were: a link to the lab research I was doing at SIUC in Environmental Engineering, a link to my Classmates.com profile (a worthless waste of money don't even bother with it), and a couple million links to Taylor Dayne stuff. Not bad, eh? It is a symptom of having a less than usual name, which I love.

Unfortunately the last year or so has seen an incredible increase in the number of people named Dayne. Unfortunately on the one hand because I like to think I'm unique, fortunately on the other hand because then people can't be sure if it's me. Plus I've noticed less people assuming my name is Dave when I introduce myself. That's a perk.

The first problem is any search engine asking if I mean Dwayne. No, if I meant Dwayne, I would have typed Dwayne, but I digress.

For instance, one of the most recent I've seen is an article blabbing on about the economy: What will signal consumers are back? Which was an AP article, so it has spammed the internet.

Another, a pornstarlet named Morgan Dayne (safe for work).

Some dude with a monkey for his facebook profile pic.

Some sort of football player named Ron Dayne.

So that's that. Accompanied by the efforts I've gone to to try to remove myself from search results I don't want to show up in (which invariably leaves a trace in itself); I've been able to expose myself only where I choose. Handy if you know how to work it. So, check yourself out. See what kind of trail you've left. That reminds me, I haven't had a stalker in a while, maybe I should reconsider.

Thank Zeus that comedian guy (who doesn't know how to spell his name) doesn't show up in my results.

A year in review

Dear 2009,

Hi. Today is the last day of your time to shine, literally, and I wanted to write you a simple little note to look back on the year 2009.

I’ve had a difficult time finding adjectives to adequately describe you because this year has meant a lot of different things to me. To profess 2009 as purely good or purely bad would be a mistake, one without appreciation of the also bad and also good parts, respectively. Perhaps I just hit upon my feelings for you, 2009, appreciative. I do appreciate you more than most of the years I’ve lived, for a large variety of reasons; No. 1 of which is learning how to truly appreciate.

2009, you will forever live in infamy, in my mind, as a fantastic mix of things both wonderful and awful, of things loving and hurtful, of memories I will keep tightly locked into my psyche in perpetuity and things I will lock away to be forgotten forever; some by choice, some not.

To provide a list of things in a top ten fashion would be making the mistake that all top ten lists make and that is to only mention things that come to my mind at this moment and are relative to me at this moment; thereby forgetting all of the top eleven to infinity things that happened to steer me towards or away from the top ten, whether I knew about them at the time or not. I do, however, want to mention a couple of things, that specifically have altered my mind, changed my heart, or revealed my self in such a way as to impact me for the foreseeable future.

Moving: I moved this year, one of the first things I did this year was to move. The physical act of moving was by no means taxing or trying or even very difficult; I had so little to move that I am still at work fill in the space I had created. No, moving took a far more emotional toll on me than I had anticipated. The space alone, moving from a too small too dusty too dark place with so much negative energy to a new space, clean untainted bright was so frightening because of the possibilities it engendered, is almost definitely the best present I have ever given to myself (and my self). I still feel, even today, the ramifications (yes, I am near tears) both the loss of the life lived in that old apartment and the gaining of new potential in the new one. My house, as it were, may not be in order and it may not be fully me, as of yet, but it is as me as I am aware of myself at this moment; and as I discover more about who I am I know that this new place will evolve along with me. In it I see the blank slate and potential that I feel my own life has.

Lori: 2009, you mark the potential end of the years-old 'Dayne and Lori Saga,' her words, not mine. Even now I cannot put into words the mixed bag of emotions triggered by even seeing that name. However, 2009, you have helped my apply perspective to the fantasy of the future self created simply by knowing her. The last time, as it were, may quite possibly be the last time ever. Part of me, obviously, still doesn’t want to put away the idea of her, of me with her, of us, but no longer am I living my life for that idea or should I say, ideal (See Moving above).

Myself (or my self): 2009, you are indisputably the year when I started paying more attention to my self in general than to my needs (read: whims) of the moment. During the past year I have explored more, felt more and shared more of myself than I knew could possibly exist. I have found more dark corners than I knew I had, more bright open spaces than I thought I was capable of and more courage to create…anything that I want. I asked a girl out (on the train of all places), I told another I felt a connection with her on the second date, I’ve shared both my shames and my triumphs with people I barely know, I’ve told others no of all things, I went to Lolla solo and met some fantastic people who didn’t shun me for doing so, I admitted my problems, sought out solutions and I asked for help from people. GASP.

To sum up: Thank You 2009. You sucked so bad I just wanted to fall asleep until next year; you were so wonderful and amazing that I didn’t want you to end; and you were so many times exactly right such that I could find a few more pieces of myself.

a - i love it when you text me.

Dear A,
While your reason for texting me, out of pure boredom after having "stalked" my facebook, seems a little suspect; I am very glad to have it. All of the great things I make myself forget about you come flooding back in a wonderfully overwhelming fashion. How my heart flutters when I see your beautiful blue eyes, how my will melts when I see your perfect smile, how I'm serenaded by your amazing laugh, how I'm constantly challenged by your inquisitive mind, among others. Our "conversations" are always so short, concerning nothing really, but just long enough to remind me how amazing you are and make me wish things had been different, that I had been different; for the problem of "us" was really a problem with me. Unfortunately, the opportunity for "us" has passed; I'm quite sure your fiancee would vehemently agree. I say that more to remind myself to not chase you rather than to be discourteous to you. Regardless, thank your boredom for me and thank you for thinking of me.

Merry Christmas, babe. Again, I look forward to hearing from you the next time you're bored.
-D

P.S. Your aunt will forgive you.