When I was young, the smallest trickle of light
Could catch my eye
Then life was new and every new day
I thought that I could fly.

I believed in what I hoped for,
And I hoped in things unseen
I had wings and dreams could soar,
I just don't feel like flying anymore.
-- Five Iron Frenzy, "Every New Day"

Once again, it has been a while since I fired up the writing cogs. Five Iron Frenzy is indeed a Christian ska band, but that doesn't really bother me. I respect their message. They're not trying to convert anybody. And they play good music. I'm not sure if what I'm going to write will have much to do with that song, but maybe I'll end up there anyway.

There is now a girl. I can honestly say that I have never met another person quite like her. She essentially defies boundaries and labels, but I will not make the same mistake I have made before. She is not perfect. She is not a shining, infallible angel. The strangest thing is that the part of her I think draws me to her the most is also the same part that confuses me beyond reason. She almost always speaks her mind. In fact, she can be quite brutal. She dissected me in about five minutes flat. I'm not saying that she got it all right, but she's fearless. I try not to emphasize this, especially because she thinks I'm horribly shallow (but appreciates that I acknowledge looks do matter at least a little bit for me), but she has all the fierce, painful beauty of, well, a tigress. My urge to hold her in my arms is often so strong that it scares me. I can feel the places on my arms and torso where she fits in; interlocked, we will make a brilliant mosaic of pain, and redemption, and intellect, and humanity.

She is loyal to her friends. And sometimes, despite myself, I hate her for it. Because that loyalty rips her inside. It savagely shreds her into pieces that I cannot, I am not allowed to put back together. Her own sense of betrayal tortures her so much that she cannot let herself get too close to me, or at least that is what she tells herself. And despite that, we both can feel where we are headed, and that knowledge destroys her all the more. I feel there is so little I can do, and it pains me.

But that's not really true. There is something I can do, but I honestly can't pinpoint the reason that I don't want to do it. I simultaneously disgust myself with my insensitivity and wonder curiously just how bad I could get. I guess it's sort of a Jekyll and Hyde situation. I always viewed myself as Jekyll, and I strove to be Jekyll, but now I'm expressing some of my Hyde-ness. And I'm almost willing to see how far it can go. How much of a bastard can I be? But at the same time, a tiny voice inside me is screaming, "Don't let that person be the one you are. Don't let him be the one that she knows you as, when you know that he doesn't have to be you. Don't fuck it up."

When I was younger, I used to think about how incredible I would be as a boyfriend and eventually a husband. I was not like those guys on TV and in the movies that did boneheaded shit and broke girls' hearts. I would never even dream of hurting my girlfriend in any way. If only all those girls knew who I would be for them, they would be lining up. I had the right mix of sensitivity and intelligence to always be a girl's perfect man.

But now, I know that I really am human. And being human means that I have the capacity to hurt those I love and those I care about. But being human also means that I can change. I don't have to let Hyde take over, even though it's so tempting and so much easier. I don't have to let the tide take me away into the stormy seas. I can stay right here on the shimmering beach. It may not be perfect, but at least she's here with me.