You Don’t Know Me.
I’m getting really sick of being analyzed. I’m sick of being told who I am or who I should be. I’m sick of listening to mindless twits that don’t know a damn thing about me describing me to other people. I’m sick of the human race in general at this point.
Seriously who do you people think you are? I see you out there. Eyes locked on me judging away while I’m at my local watering hole trying to enjoy a few brewhas with my close friends. Sharing whispers while I’m treating my younger sisters to dinner being a respecting older brother while you people created some alter life for me inside your warped minds. I engage a female in conversation and I’ve magically slept with every friend she has and have all intentions of hurting her emotionally because I’m the devil himself that believe no one is good enough. Well you people can shove your minimum wage checks up your ass and drive a segway full speed of the side of a cliff. But no you won’t, will you? Instead you’ll stare at me with your cake holes wide open, forgetting about your minimum wage lives for awhile while you contemplate exactly what it is that makes me be me.
Everywhere I go, I’m constantly flooded with people trying to explain to me why I say and do the things that I say and do. There are a thousand laughable theories. Some people blame a rough childhood that I mask behind a life of glamour. “Oh, I bet his mother was never there…” they like to say with their noses in the air. Well fuck you. The same goes for all you people who think that I try so hard because I’m worried that people won’t like me. When will the world begin to understand that I do not share your insecurities? When will the collective, overweight masses out there get it through their Twinkie-on-the-brain skulls that I’m not one of them?
I’ve explained it a thousand times but I’m sure I’ll explain it ten thousand more. I am not the boy next door. I am not the rebel without a cause spray painting cars around the neighborhood because I grew up on the wrong side of the tracks and desperately seek inner acceptance and a normal life. I am not any character you’ve ever seen in an after school special or a romantic drama that finds that special person who turns them around and makes them accept and understand their inner monster and confront it. By the power of Chuck Norris, I’ll just never get why people feel the need to express their own shortcomings by superimposing them on me. I’ll never fathom the logic behind putting your own qualities over top of my personality. Does it make you feel closer to me? Or maybe it’s nothing nearly that complex.
Maybe you ‘glass half full’ morons out there are just so wrapped up in getting your fairy tale, Hollywood ending that the idea of an uncaring, single and secure entity terrifies you more than you care to admit. Maybe you just can’t understand that in the end, good doesn’t always triumph over evil. That the dog sometimes has to die, the disease sometimes has to win, and that the guy and girl don’t always end up together.
That’s the one that always gets me. That epic love story, the Romeo and Juliet tale of two star crossed lovers who would rather die than be apart. Who in the hell writes that crap, anyway? I love seeing the look on some poor fifteen year old girl’s face when you explain to them that eighty percent of marriage ends in divorce, a fact that they already knew from watching daddy get coked up and slap mommy around until they were eleven years old. See, its not that I’m an asshole… I’m a realist. I see no reason to pull the wool over the eyes of the world. I enjoy letting them see the forest despite the trees. Why pollute the minds of the world into believing in fairy tales when the real world is nothing short of an ugly, distorted place? We live in a world where a priest is more likely to find true love in the hands of an eight year old boy than a man and woman are to find it searching their entire lives over. A world in which seventy percent of significant others will cheat at some point. I used to be one of you. I know that seems both pathetic and hard to believe, and believe me I know that it is. I used to believe that the world was full of unicorns and rainbows and real, true love that didn’t end with a money shot and an itchy eyeball. I bought flowers and went on dates and yammered on to all my uncaring friends about how ‘this girl is different’ and how ‘it was real this time’. But you know what? It wasn’t then, it isn’t now, and in a small way, I envy those of you who have failed to realize the sad truth that exists in this world.
Me? I got my moment of awakening.
I watched the only girl I have ever loved walk away rubbing the only real fear I ever had in life right in my face, and I realized right then and there that real love didn’t exist in this world. That time is fleeting, and it’s all about making the most out of what you have. Out of what is real. There are times, like tonight, that I sit around and wonder what might have been. When I wish that when I hit the brakes on my car, she ran to my arms and kissed me and held me in her arms forever. Don’t think me heartless, by any means. But I understand now that the world doesn’t work like that. The world is cruel. More than most people will ever know.
So write your E-mails, scream your insults, and pray for my demise. But in doing so, understand that I don’t wish my fate upon you. I hope you never have to watch that only means of good in your heart walk away with helplessness in your eyes. I pray for you, to whatever deity you value most, with the only wish I have left, I wish with all of my icy heart that you never sit in front of a keyboard like I do now and wonder if you still have the capacity to love.
I am the man I am because I have to be. Because it is impossible to be back in your shoes now that I am filling my own. I am the man I am because nothing else makes sense. I’m a realist that speaks the truth of a situation no matter how it will be received, I will not sugar coat the truth for the feeble or weak willed. I am Caleb Jones… the life I lived has made me the man I am today and none of you will ever be able to see through your own distorted view of me to realize the man I really am.
