"Does it hurt when you think about me, and how broken my heart is?"

Today’s blog is basically a diary entry for myself. Jeanie says that she doesn’t hold anything in on her blog, that she tells all. I, in honesty, don’t. I keep things back and try more to entertain you all, then truly allow you to be privy to my fragile, emotional psyche. Today’s just different. It’s got to be. If I don’t write this, for myself, today, and share with you all; if instead, I were to come give a link, a wink, and a smile, then really, you should never trust anything I tell you. And trust, to me, is more important than anything.

I drank myself silly last night, in hopes that when I woke today, my version of reality would have only been an inebriated illusion. It didn’t happen. I took a walk through a cold rain today, in hopes of cleansing myself and refreshing my spirits. It didn’t work. There’s no link today, but there is a song, it’s Yellowcard’s “Empty Apartment” which was apparently written for two best friends that can’t be friends anymore. I’ve had it on repeat, because I thought it was making me feel better. Maybe giving me a little bit of hope. And then when I looked up at the buildings on Liberty Avenue, I almost cried. In fact, I’m typing this at work right now, and I’m nearly crying.

I’m not going to go deeply into why I feel this way, because no matter how numb I am, or how angry I’ll soon be, that’s not fair of me. Instead, I’ll let you all in on something I realized about myself last night.

I don’t want to be Han Solo anymore. He’s been my favourite character forever. I’ve patterned so many of my own characters after him. I’ve stolen his lines and even tried to learn how to give a wry, crooked smile like he does. He’s a swashbuckler, a scoundrel, a great friend. He’s caring and he’s a pimp at the same time. Self-assured, cocky, but not arrogant, Han is so much of what I wanted to be.

But in honesty, I’m Luke Skywalker, if I’m anything. I’m the naïve farmboy, who sees the good in everyone and trusts in his feelings. I’m certainly the guy that not only loses the girl to Han, but finds out that she’s his sister. I’m the white-bread kid that wears the plain tunic, instead of the sweet-ass vest and striped pants. It’s a good life, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve always wanted to be the confident, dashing rogue. Which is why I’ve associated myself with so many of them. Which is why I’m drawn to them, which is why they become my friends. Even my best friend.

In the movies, Han redeems himself in the end, joining the battle just in time to save Luke’s ass, not to mention sacrificing himself to carbon freeze. But, as much as I love to think otherwise, life just isn’t a movie, is it?

I learned last night that being a rules guy isn’t really all that terrible. That putting others ahead of yourself, and your ambitions, to the point where you sometimes feel like a doormat is an attribute, not a fault. I learned that believing in people is dangerous, and trusting them is worse. But I learned that the happiness you can get from that is worth the risk. The price you pay when someone fails you, though, is both painful and hefty. I learned that being the charismatic pirate means playing by a different set of rules. Means not caring about the people you might have to step on to get what you want. I learned that “some people are just like that” is not a good enough reason for me to forgive someone.

Being Luke doesn’t mean I’m an angel. Far from. I’ve got my flaws and my faults and have made my mistakes. I don’t have a problem admitting that. But I own up to them. And I seek forgiveness. Because I can, I think, actually realize that when you hurt someone, it probably means that you did something wrong.

Being Luke, and not Han, may mean getting stepped on. It mean getting turned on, or not getting the girls, or not getting the cool vest and the wookie and the spaceship. It may mean being whiny about “feeling the good” in people and trusting your feelings. And that may all seem not as cool. Frankly, I don’t think it is as cool. But I’m okay with it now. I don’t ever want to be a scoundrel. I like being the naïve farmboy-- being too trusting, too caring. And who knows, maybe someday I’ll get to be the real hero. After all, Luke did blow up the Death Star and get to wear that incredible yellow jacket.

Thanks for listening,
-Adam