Sunday, December 16, 2012


Sometimes I feel very alone in the world; but I know better than that. I finally can look back on my life and say that good friends have come and gone. That some have transformed their bonds and even in their distance transcend the gap from ally to family.
My friend Rusty, I would describe him like a brother; our friend is my oldest and closest given the time I've known him. I would respect his every decision, but in the same breath tell him how stupid I think it might be, even after not seeing or talking to him in over six or seven months.
My friend, the Historian, has become my best friend, someone I can unload on and agree with and share my views and trials with. He's like… my good christian friend (although he's atheist). Always there to listen, to aid with his similar struggles.
It's been half a decade, now to the week, since my dad died. Now, I'm not going to complain. The reality is, had he not died and had my mother not gone into a year of reclusion I would have retained a level of shelter; even with Rusty and Jennifer's intervention into my not so simple existence.
I would have never had my faith in God challenged to the same degree, or moved to Missouri where I fell in love with one girl, loved and lost one who changed my life, struggled yet another who ended up for the best and loved the many in my youth group.
I would have never met Shane, my very best friend whilst I lived in Missouri. Who help me deal my issues of loss, sexuality, beliefs, difficulties with girls and out look on life, music and the big picture.
I would never met Misti, who truly lead me while I stumbled on the vast wide; careful not to walk too straight and narrow. Concreting my faith in a way only a holy experience can do; even given my Buddhist points of view.
I may not have come to New York, but I might have.
I just… I wonder sometimes, what would he have to say to me? I'm a genius, yes, but that came from him. His autism, his philosophy, his passive demeanor, his old soul. My autism, my existentialism, my pacifism and friendliness, my old soul.
Who do I talk to about my feelings, about women, about love, about my history; if not a man so similar to me? Without a man to look up to? I have but an image to look up to, one that is so vividly painted by his words and teachings in the last six years of his life.
I think, and I have always thought, that he knew it was coming. He would tell me that his only purpose for being alive was for me, and since he died I have only further understood his teaching, his wisdom and his philosophy. He prepared me for almost everything and I didn't even know it.
There are days where I look back. I see relationship crumble,  I see my failures, I feel my heart sink when I fail to be just and honest, I condemn myself what I've been unfaithful; and it is in those minutes of reflection that I realize that he has been guiding me the whole way, only to understand when it is too late.
Still I wonder not what he would think of me. He would think the world of me. I wonder what he would have to say when I came to him with my dilemmas?
I want to be an artist, become bigger than life; or do I want to be a teacher? I think this one's a keeper or I have feelings for someone else? I think this person hates me and I can't stop thinking about it? I really screwed up this time…
Whether it's my dad or someone else, I feel alone in this world sometimes. Like I can't make these decisions on my own. My will is too weak.
My history of infidelity, my ego, my anger, my patience, my feelings are all symbols of my weakness. Which I suppose I'm fine with. I've made it this far, but I wish I knew what to do sometimes.

None the less, Happy christmas and may God bless you,
Brent Matthew Lillard