It feels strange to be back. I mainly want to apologise – to you, for using this site as an outlet and to everyone else in my life, for being someone else for so long.
About 4 years ago, something happened in my life. Something formative.
I don't know the direct circumstances of Jonny's death or anything, but it made me evaluate myself in a way I never had before. All of my grandparents are dead, but I never wept as I did for Jonny. How is it that someone can barely interact, on separate continents, and one party can still feel an unbearable connection? In a way, I suppose that I imposed it on Jonny without his realising, the way I imposed relationships on almost everyone up until that point. Relationships weren't things to have and to enjoy, but things to acquire.
The day that I discovered that Jonny died, I wept in a manner that I have never wept before or since. I was living in a bedsit. The walls were mouldy. I was in an extremely difficult relationship with a woman who I now consider marrying. I found out on Facebook that Jonny had died, and I went to my mouldy room and I wept.
I wept bitter tears and I read pratchett and I drank and I went off the rails. It was around this time that I removed any of you with whom I was "Facebook friends". But I preserved Jonny, a living memory of a man I never met, emptily keeping me going from on day to another like so much lembas bread: at first, a fortifying draught, but all to soon, something dry, distant, unreal and unrelatable.
I had a weird time in college. I grew up being told that I was exceptional (hence Alatar and my argument re: mics on stage – al, you were right all along, but I being young and foolish did not agree.) Then I went to college and I discovered that I was, at best, slightly above average. I have some sort of a gift for music that has led me to the place I am now, but I am not, in the grand scheme of things, remarkable. Further education has proved to me and the world that I am lazy, smug and competitive, without any of the competitive drive that leads to sure success. Sure, I'm better than your average musician, but I'm pretty shitty at being a good person. And I always have been. And I've always known this. I've had 2 girlfriends in my 28 years, both of whom
Have somehow seen through the facade of the posturing lad, to the vulnerable idiot below, who just wants to sing, make music and dance. But my whole life I've had this massive complex: simply by being me, I am better than other people. Deep down, I've always known that this is not true, but only today, age 28 and 6 days, with my girlfriend living in another country, have I grown the fuck up and embraced it.
I don't even know why I'm writing this post. I'll probably post it and not visit this site for another year. I just want to get things off my chest, and this seemed a Better place than Reddit. And I'm
truly sorry for Jonny, who has been one of the few people I've even been myself with, though I never met him. Every time I weep, whether it's for myself, or for Samwise, or for anyone, I think of Jonny. Though he cannot know it, he motivated me to turn my life into something worth living. Since then I've written my best music. I am published on 2 continents and this year I will have 7 pieces commercially release on CDs. Though it may be appropriative, jonny's death made me see my life for what it truly was, four years ago: a waste of talent. Every day is a precious gift, and I'd been smugly squandering every day.
It's 4:15am in dublin. I'm sitting on a bench on the canal, having just spent and evening putting th past to rest with a girl for whom I've held a candle for over a decade. My girlfriend lives in another country. I have no right to be posting in this community. For the first time since his death, I haven't commemorated the glorious 25th of may by reading Night Watch and eating a traditional (but loathed) hard boiled egg for breakfast. The sun is rising and I'm moving on. Who knows where I'll be in 10 years? I hope it won't be th same place as 10 years ago, a smug, self righteous young man, sure of success.