Just because perfection does not exist, doesn’t mean that it’s not important…after all, where would we all be if we didn’t try our best?

I realized, that the reason I do the things that I do, and believe in what I believe in, isn’t because I hope that others will follow the example, or because I want to prove the world wrong.  It isn’t even so that people can have at least -one- person that they can believe in (me), though I think that is still very important to me. (I’m being too arrogant)  It’s simply because that’s what I believe in…and it would make me sad to do things any other way.

I think I might finally be able to come closer to being at terms with all of the things that I have let go of throughout my life.  My first crush.  My good friend.  The friends who I wrote to for years before stopping, after never hearing back.  My ex-girlfriend.  I think it’s been really, really hard not to see these things as failures.  My failures.  I still remember, that I made a promise to a certain person, to show them around the Stanford campus.  And I thought of that promise, again, as I saw a picture of them, at The Dish, along with some people whom I didn’t know, didn’t care about, didn’t recognize.  A promise carries such heavy weight with me, that it’s almost an unusable term.  I don’t think anyone who knows me, really ever wants to make me promise anything, because they know how seriously I take it.  I think the only time when I can use the word “promise” is to show someone that I am, really, really serious about something.  Like when I made Kiki promise to take my bag with her to France, and open it in France.  Did you know?  That box was one of the most concentrated packages of love that I have ever given to a single person (I have to say “one of” now because I’ve since done a few other things that are just as ridiculous).  I think it contained something like 10 letters, written in advance, since she would be spending a quarter away from me.  I mean…who =does= that?  But in any case, this was something that was extremely important to me, so I made her promise.  I even made her do a yubikiri…

I’ve always considered it as failures.  Like my band scrapbook that’s unfinished.  I feel like that’s a failure too.  I don’t like it.  I don’t like it, because doesn’t it suck to have someone just drop out on you?  Doesn’t it suck to have someone stop caring?  Doesn’t it suck to have no one care at all?  Isn’t that terrible?

I think I still have a lot of failures.  I’m not going to absolve myself of that.  But I think, for a lot of these things, maybe I didn’t fail after all.  Because…maybe, the important thing is not that the feeling continue on unchanged.  Maybe, it’s more important, that that feeling is still there, in my mind, living on, even after the things it is tied to don’t exist anymore.  If I met that girl that I made that promise to again, I wouldn’t be important to her–I don’t think I ever was.  And I wouldn’t be in love with her either.  But she was important to me.  She was important to me for years.  And that has nothing to do with the person that she is today.  To tell you the truth, it probably had little to do with the person that she was at the time.  But it was still important to me.  And the fact that it =was= important to me =then=…that fact *is* important to me *now*.  So in a way, it never lasted, but also did last all this time. And maybe, maybe someday, I’ll contact that person, and even though they have nothing to do with that memory, another version of them, that doesn’t exist anymore, is tied to that feeling that I still keep inside.  And I think that’s fine…it might even be wonderful, that I can just reach out, and say, hey, remember that?  That was important to me.  Thank you.  Just like how I sent fanmail to Leigh Alexander.  Who am I to send fanmail to Leigh Alexander?  She doesn’t even know me!  I’m not even in that “crowd”.  But I still did.  Because it’s a little thing, and a little thing can count.  I know that all of the little things that I have done have counted.  They’ve all counted for something.  And there’s so many of them.  So, so, so many of them.

Even if you can’t be perfect…it’s still important.

I think I’ve changed…I worried so much about not being myself anymore that I’m probably not myself anymore.

But at the same time…I told Kiki today, that I don’t think I’ve ever escaped from who I am.  I think everything, every single thing, is just an expression of who I am.  And I don’t know if that core individual has ever changed.  I think that’s just what makes me who I am.  Everything, everything just radiates outward from that.  And I think that some of the outer pieces are very beautiful, and I’m very happy for them.  But at the center….that’s what makes me, me.  It’s not whether I could ever escape from that or not.  I wouldn’t want to, because that wouldn’t be -me-.

Who I am…

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