The Only One On Earth

   I want to tell everyone about an emotion I’ve been battling lately. Actually, it’s one I’ve been battling my whole life, and I’m starting to wonder if I should fight it at all. Maybe it’s just who I am. Let me explain where it all started.

   When I was six, my mom and I were involved in an accident. It left me with my left eye swollen shut, and it did some significant damage to me outside of that. I had a concussion, and the results would be me having seizures for some time after that. As my mother panicked, like anyone would have, I was calm. At six years old, I had absolutely no fear in me. I even reassured my mom that the situation was going to be fine. After I started having seizures, I took it all in stride. I can still remember what it felt like during the first one. I didn’t know what was happening. In all honesty, I thought I was dying. I didn’t want to die, but I didn’t feel panicked either. I felt nothing. I was just empty. I had always been that way. I figured if this were it, I would just go to Heaven. In my mind, everything was still fine. What kind of child doesn’t panic in that situation? That’s the way I had always been, though.

   That pattern of behavior continued. I’ve been in love with the idea of loving someone many times in my life, but never have I found myself in the feeling of love that people describe to me. It’s foreign, and at this point, I don’t even know if something like that could exist for me. I care about people, and I want them to love me, but those feelings of closeness that bring people together never happen for me. It’s as if I’m just an empty vessel who longs for the connection that a real person should feel. That’s how I view myself. Am I like everyone else? Could I be defective?

   The oddness doesn’t stop there, though. Even when faced with the death of a loved one, I don’t feel. I wish that they were still with me, and I love them in my own way, but there are no feelings. I simply look at everyone else and how they deal with tragedy. Some cry, and others turn to food or even drinks to give them comfort. A few do the wise thing and find comfort in the people who love them. Some are destructive. They push everyone away and do something stupid like punch a hole in the wall. It all seems really strange how we deal with things, no matter what way we choose to do it. I wish I could be one of those strange people, though. I wish I could cry or throw my fist through a wall. Instead, I stand there in a state that people perceive as strong or non-caring. I hug who needs to be hugged and say what I think people need to hear. Then I go home, and my day continues as if nothing ever happened. I know I’ve lost someone I can never get back. I truly realize that a tragedy has occurred, and it will affect my future, but it doesn’t affect anything on the surface.

   I think people like me used to be called the strong silent types. I’ll be there to defend you if you need it. You can cry on my shoulder in a time of mourning, and most importantly, I’ll give you anything you need to feel whole again. I’m that kind of friend, but I would give anything to be the person on the other side of it all. I would be so happy to feel something when my lips touched someone else’s or to find that tears were falling when I had lost someone who meant so much to me. I would even settle for fear. The other day in the snow and ice, I slid on a bridge, and my car started going toward the edge. Most people would have panicked and locked up their brakes. They certainly wouldn’t have been able to slow down and think about things logically. I never had fear in me, though. I simply realized that the brakes weren’t my friend on a slick bridge and turned into the slide, causing my car to completely turn in a circle instead of plowing into the bridge. It was a good time to not have emotion, but it said a lot about who I am. I don’t love like most people. I don’t mourn at all, and maybe worst of all, I don’t fear death or anything. I’m empty, and I don’t understand why.

   I know this has probably been depressing for some, but I needed to talk about all this. It’s not normal, and I don’t understand it. I’ve always been able to use this as an advantage. I use logic to solve problems that otherwise would just fall by the wayside. Still, I would like to feel love or even heartbreak. I would love to screw up a situation because I allowed myself to make a mistake through being too emotional. Some might say that I’m just a man. Men don’t show their emotions as much. That would be uneducated, though. Most men show emotions as much as any woman. They just don’t show them in the same way.

   The final thing I want to say is this. I want to change. I don’t want my smiles, laughs, or even grief to be fake anymore. I want it to all be real. I don’t know how to accomplish this yet. How do you feel what you truly seem to have no capacity to even understand? Still, this is something I have to do. I can’t keep feeling numb to everything, can I? It’s funny that some use alcohol or drugs just to try to escape their emotions. They want to cut it all off for a few hours. I just want to cut it on once in my life. I want to fall in love, not know what to do with myself during a tragedy, and make a huge mistake because I fear physical harm. It’s not a big goal for most, but it’s all I think about lately.

   I hope this blog has helped you get to know me a little more. I usually tell you the good, but to feel I think you have to open up first. This is me opening up. I’m not perfect. As a matter of fact, some fundamental part of me is broken. Here’s to piecing it back together, no matter how long it takes.

Gold

   I often write about my personal thoughts on here, so in continuing with that tradition, I wanted to talk about something that’s been on my mind lately. We have a measuring stick that we use to judge everyone around us, including ourselves. I’m sure you know exactly what I’m talking about. It determines if you’re marriage material, what you have, and how hard you must have worked in most people’s eyes. Money is our way of measuring everything in our society. The highest paid must be the most valuable employees, and the people who have wealth must be hard workers and have their life together. Is that really true, though? Does this singular thing measure our value accurately? Does it even make us happy?

   I was recently thinking about what I would do if I won the lottery. The first thought that came to my mind was that I would pay off my house. After that, I had nothing. I thought of a few things I would do for my closest family members and friends, but after that, I was baffled. I truly wanted nothing that money could buy. It was strange. I had thought for years that wealth could hold the key to happiness for me, but truthfully, the things I love are either people or extremely cheap possessions. That realization sparked another thought. In my lifetime, what have I ever wanted expensive clothes for? Simply to impress another person on a date or in an interview. Secondly, I’m not really a car guy. Why would I want a new sports car that was extremely expensive? Would it truly bring me joy? The answer is no. Once again, it would just be some attempt at standing out in the crowd. Maybe if I had that possession, someone great would notice me. Then I thought about a bigger house. That wasn’t even something I wanted. The house I have is already too much for one person. The only reason I would be going down that road would be to look appealing for someone who was trying to find a long-term partner.

   You see, it all comes back to people. We want to be more appealing, and all the while, we judge others based on the fact that they can give us things that we probably don’t even desire. It’s a circle, and it makes no sense. Once I realized this, I asked what truly made me happy. Chocolate, books, kisses, music, video games, laughter, good food, and time holding onto the ones I care about . . . those are the things that came to mind. They all have one thing in common. None of them are expensive. As a matter of fact, some of them are even free. All this time, I’ve been looking at people in terms of whether they have their life together or what they have to offer, but I’ve ignored the real questions I should be asking. Can they make me laugh? Do we have common interests? Can they put up with my obsession with music? Maybe most importantly, how do they make me feel? Do our talks leave me wanting more? Do their kisses make an electric feeling shoot through my body that’s like nothing else? Do I find myself wanting to spend more and more time with them? Finally, am I happy in the simplest form just to see their face every day?

   It’s not rocket science, but I think we make it that. We pick our friends and relationships based on what others have and can give us materially, but all the gold and glamour in the world can’t replace the laughter and love we can share with one person who truly sets our heart on fire. After all, that gold and glamour only exists to make an image that will attract someone special. What I’ve got to start realizing is that I don’t want the bait. It would be easy to see a woman with the perfect look, education level, and career, and say that she’s everything I want, but I’ve found that it’s never that simple. It’s usually the one who can stay up talking to me until three in the morning about a bunch of her far-fetched dreams that will probably never come true who truly captivates me. There’s something about a dreamer that always trumps a person who’s left that behind for a certain kind of boring perfection where everything in their life is already certain. It’s the one who takes my breath away when she’s in sweat pants and has no makeup on who overshadows any outfit or effort into being something she’s not. Finally, it’s definitely not the one who goes out with me to the nicest restaurant in our expensive clothes and nice car. It’s the girl who can sit with me and watch Netflix all day without desiring anything more.

   We spend an insane amount of money on happiness every year. We buy new clothes, new cars, constantly try to figure out how to change our look and manage our weight, and all the while, we never realize that none of this makes us happy. We think what would I do if I were rich? A big house, a beautiful car, a model, and the best wardrobe possible come to mind. It’s funny, but none of those things give us an emotional connection at all. I think the key to happiness is easier than we think. A place to lay your head, a membership to Netflix, and someone to sit beside you and just enjoy a night of laughter, dreaming, and love is all that my heart really desires. If I had that, I would truly be a rich man beyond all the gold or riches in this world.

The Unseen: Watchers

   I’m very proud to announce my newest book. It’s the final book in The Unseen series, and it’s titled The Unseen: Watchers. I believe that this is my best one in the series. It has tons of action, and romance is taken to another level throughout it. It’ll be easy for anyone who has enjoyed the previous entries to pick it up. The book will be coming out in March, but I’ll have it up for preorder on the 14^th of this month. I hope you’ll all check it out. Here’s the description for it.

   The Unseen: Watchers is the epic conclusion to The Unseen series. It follows Drew and Lindsey as everything with the agency finally comes to a head. Will they be able to escape a life of servitude and death, or will it all catch up to them in the end? That will be the central theme of this final book. Along their journey, they’ll discover love, betrayal, and a will to survive like they never knew they had. Join them as they try to take down an agency responsible for countless crimes and maybe even make a life for each other away from it all. This entry is an action-packed journey with a deeper romance than ever before, and the ending to the series is one you’ll never see coming.

   The book is so much more than I can accurately describe, however. It’s a farewell to a group of characters that I have spent so much time with over the last several months. I think I’ll always have a special place in my heart for Drew and Lindsey. I started on this series at a time when my life didn’t feel very stable, and I was very comfortable writing in this style. I had been challenging myself to write in other styles, however, and it was just time to go back to the basics. These characters and these books brought a much-needed stability to my life. Moving forward, I’m going to be exploring new genres again, but I have to say that I loved being able to rely on Drew and Lindsey in a pinch. I hope they’ve brought half as much joy and entertainment to your life as they have to mine.

Roadmaps

   I’m going to talk about something today that none of us like. I’m mentioning it in a light that you might not be used to, though. To me, our greatest weaknesses show our true strength. We all look into a mirror occasionally and see things that we would change. Oftentimes, we hear words connected to those thoughts. They aren’t our own words. They’re the words of people who have made us feel less than. I’ll give you a few examples of things I’ve heard when I looked into the mirror in the past. “You’re too fat.” “You’re too skinny. You look sick.” You’re too quiet and awkward.” You’re too loud.” “You’re stupid.” “You’ll never be anyone.”

   None of those are very happy things to remember, and they certainly didn’t do anything for my confidence. Some of them were even at odds with each other. I was fat, so I lost weight. When I looked into the mirror, I was happy, but others came along who said I looked too skinny and sick. I was too quiet, and I tried to talk more, but people didn’t like that either. It seemed like I couldn’t please anyone at one point, and that’s when I decided to just be myself, no matter what that was. I realized something. What I see in that mirror is a roadmap of where I’ve been. When I saw someone who was too fat, this is what I really saw. I saw a boy who had been told he wasn’t important and that he wasn’t intelligent. That guy felt like absolutely no one. Here’s the thing, though. He didn’t mistreat others, even though they mistreated him. He certainly didn’t swallow a bunch of pills to try to end it all either. It seemed like there was no hope back then, but all that guy did was eat too much ice cream. As much as others harmed him, he didn’t harm anyone but himself. (Although it did taste very good!) That person in the mirror shouldn’t have been ashamed. He should have been proud. When all the people around him looked for a way to spew their own personal garbage onto everyone else, he didn’t. He survived with class and dignity.

   Here’s what I’m trying to say. Our control, or lack thereof, is a clear sign of what we’re surviving in life, and if I’m being too quiet for you, it’s likely because I’m thoughtful and not like most who say the first thing that comes to their mind. When we look into our mirrors, we see scars. That much is completely true. The shame we feel because of those scars is the ridiculous part, however. That image is your story. Every scar, wrinkle, and mental blemish in your eyes shows the roadmap to where you’ve been - what you’ve survived. It’s not a reflection of your weakness. It’s a perfect picture of your strength. You survived everything that made you who you are today, and no matter what anyone thinks of you, it’s those blemishes that give you the ability to be the person you are. They remind you of who you were and still are. They tell you that you’re a survivor. It’s those voices of people who don’t want that story to be special because theirs is completely pedestrian that ruins our view of ourselves. Don’t let it. A body without scars, wrinkles, and blemishes is one that hasn’t experienced life yet, and eyes that don’t hold some pain are the doorway to a soul that has yet to experience the loss of anything worth losing. In short, those people who cheapen your story are the ones who should really be regretful. They’ve never lived. There is no roadmap yet. They’re young, and they’re beautiful, but they’ve never lost someone and gone into a depression that resulted in them gaining ten pounds. They’ve probably never even cared enough about someone to go into a depression over them. They’ve never been a mother with stretch marks who sacrificed their body to have a baby. They don’t know that those stretch marks are the story of a process where someone gave birth to a life that was so wonderful. They use words like stupid, nothing, and ugly as if they’re routine, and it’s very telling. Beauty is only skin deep with them, and value is only measured in how much you can do for them. You’re letting the words of someone matter who has yet to lose, love, or know the true value of a person who can see through the image we put on for the world and peer through to the soul to see our true beauty. It is beautiful, too. Every scar has a story, and we’re still here, so it also has a triumphant ending. When we lost people, we survived, and when others belittled our value, we found a way to rise above and flourish in ways that they’ll never truly understand. That’s what I see when I look into the mirror, and I hope you wear those scars, pounds, and wrinkles proudly and as a sign of strength. They are your light and a sign that you can overcome anything. The real shame would be if you let someone make that roadmap into anything less than you deserve. You went through it. You earned every blemish. Let it be a reminder of how amazing you are and what you’re truly capable of, rather than an insecurity planted there by someone who never truly knew you or the story that every part of you told.

The Moment

   I wanted to take an opportunity to explain something today. Many people don’t understand why professional sports are so popular. They don’t understand how something that matters so little ends up meaning so much to people like me. For us, the game is everything, though. It’s a representation of us. We see ourselves in those teams and in those individuals. Don’t believe me? I can show you.

   Last Sunday, the Packers played the Seahawks in the NFC Championship. For 3 quarters and 11 minutes, the Packers absolutely manhandled the Seahawks. They had a 12 point lead with only 4 minutes left, and no one could have predicted what followed. The Seahawks scored 15 points in less than 3 minutes and went on to win in overtime, making it one of the biggest and best comebacks in history. It also broke the heart of this Packer fan. As I screamed at the television and even had a few choice words for some of the more disappointing players, my dad reminded me that it was just a game. For me, it was so much more, though. You have to understand something. I don’t expect the Packers to win all the time, but they’ve always put forward the best effort I thought was possible, and I certainly never labeled them as chokers. In this way, I felt like I could relate to this team. As a matter of fact, it was one of the first things that made me identify with the organization. The fact that they could fall so far so quickly, and mainly due to their own mistakes, made me question everything about myself. It was just a game, but it reminded me of everything I could lose.

   I’ve always been the type of guy who loves crunch time. I like being backed up against a deadline or having to take the last shot in a game. I love that moment when you see someone who strikes you in the most amazing way and you can take a chance on them and go talk to them or chicken out. I rise to those kinds of occasions. I come through. Here’s the thing, though. I’m scared in those moments. I want them, but I’m always so afraid that I’ll fail. I haven’t yet. That’s not to say I’ve never failed at anything. Seriously, I can give you a long list of things that I’ve failed at, but for a long time, I’ve come through when it really mattered. There’s a story behind that. When I was 9 years old, I played baseball. It’s one of the few things I’ve never been able to be halfway decent at. I’m really bad to this day. There were 2 outs, and I had to get a hit to keep the game going. I didn’t come through. I could have, but I was crushed under the weight of the moment. I didn’t want to be there taking that swing, and I had already decided that I wasn’t going to get a hit simply by letting my fear completely take over. It was on that day that a young 9 year old went home and really thought about who he was. He didn’t want to be that guy anymore. I watched guys like Jordan make the shots when it mattered, and that’s the type of man I wanted to be. I didn’t care if people thought I came through all the time. I just wanted them to know I always would when it really mattered. I never didn’t come through in crunch time again. I delivered because I never wanted to feel like I did that day again. When I looked into the eyes of Bostick, Rodgers, Matthews, and McCarthy, I saw something so familiar. It was fear and a realization that everything they had dreamed of was about to go down the drain. It didn’t happen when the game was over. It happened as soon as Bostick dropped an onside kick that gave the Seahawks an opportunity to win the game. It was over at that point. Too many people on that team had let fear and disappointment take them. I was reminded of myself when I looked at them, and it infuriated me.

   Still think it’s just a game? Sure, you might be thinking you struck out when you were 9. What’s the big deal? You’re right. The truth is that it wasn’t a big deal, but it represents a huge one. I’m absolutely terrified of not having the right words or ability when people are truly counting on me or I have a chance for something great. I’m scared of failure, and deep down I’m afraid that my fear will cause me to become that same scared 9 year old again one day. I’m afraid that I won’t make that shot or I won’t know what to say to that girl, or even worse. What if I let the people I love down when all the chips are on the table? What if I choke under the pressure of everything that’s on me today? I want those pressure moments because they remind me that I’m not a loser or weak. I’m strong, and I come through when it’s on the line. What if I’m not one day, though? Will I be able to handle it? A lot of people struggle with looking at other’s mistakes and dissecting them and judging everything about that person. That’s not me, though. The things I dissect are my biggest failures in the most important moments. That’s led to me knowing what to do when it matters and there not being many moments that end in failure, but it has also led to failure not being an option. What will happen when I choke, though? Will I be reminded of who I might be at heart? We can’t stay perfect forever, and sooner or later, I’ll lose my words, my creativity, or even my instinct to finish in situations. Who will I be then, and will I be able to look at that man in the mirror?

   I couldn’t accept a loss that I felt never should have happened Sunday, but that’s not what yelling at that television was really about. It was about looking at a picture of what could be my future if I don’t cover all the angles or if I get too comfortable in any given situation. It was a reminder that you can lose it all if you take your foot off the pedal or get too comfortable with your position. It was about my inability to accept anything less than great in crunch time. I’m not a perfectionist. I just believe in doing things right when they matter most, and it broke my heart to see the exact opposite last Sunday. It also reminded me of how everything can change in a moment. Maybe deep down I’m that same kid who choked when I was 9, but I’m not accepting that right now. I’m going to be the person I choose to be right now, and that man doesn’t get comfortable in a good situation or choke when his goals are in reach. He keeps his eyes on the prize and lets the fear of losing it all drive him rather than pull him down.

   I love my Packers, and I loved that kid I used to be, but I never want to see him again. I want the pressure to be something that propels me forward. It is one way or the other. We can tank in our jobs, relationships, and social lives, or we can rise. Make no mistake about it. There is no in-between. The moment you freeze, you’re sinking like in quick sand. This blog might seem a bit bleak, but it’s actually the opposite of that. Seeing the sorry display I watched Sunday reminded me that I have to keep striving for more in my work and social life because the moment I stop moving forward and wanting the moments that really matter, it all just slips away like it was never there to begin with. My goals and my dreams fall to someone with more ambition or with better instincts. Maybe I shouldn’t feel that way. Most would say that, but I want to be that person who comes through when it matters. I want to be him for myself, my friends, and my future family. I caught a quick glimpse at individuals who gave their dreams away Sunday, and I thought not me. My life, my relationships, and everything that comes between might go terribly wrong, but it won’t be because I didn’t rise to the occasion because the fear of not reaching my goals won’t petrify me. It’ll be the driving point of everything that I ever do in this life for myself and those I love.

Destiny

   I’m going to start by saying that this entry has nothing to do with destiny. Whether it exists or not is debatable, but what I’m actually referring to is the title of a book that will be coming sometime in the future. You might have read where I was talking about it a little over a week ago. Well, guess what. I finished it. Sure, it needs to be edited, but it’s exactly what I pictured it as. I’m really proud of this one. I’ve loved a lot of books, but I think this could be the one that I look back at and say wow. This has been the type of story that I would like to read. Now, I don’t want to sound overconfident or like I think everyone is going to love this one because what do I know? Some of my favorite things have been unpopular, and some of the things that I’ve felt less confident in went on to sell more and get better reviews. Still, I don’t know if that matters. This is what I do know. Destiny saved me. I was getting lost in all the things I was supposed to do in life, and I think for a while there, I forgot how to have fun. Life isn’t all about work, and a person can turn all of it into that. I’m pretty sure I did.

   When I started writing Destiny, I had this idea that kept nagging at me. It was for a slice of life book with my own unique spin on it. I had told so many other people about it. It was going to happen. I needed to write the last entry in Wrong Visions, though. I started to, but this one wouldn’t get out of my head, so I did it. I just felt like this was something I was meant to do, and during the first few chapters, the words flew by as if they were always there or as if some unseen force was delivering a story that was powerful to me. I was in the zone. Things like that don’t last forever, though. I wrote as much as I could until the newness of the project started to wear off. What had seemed destined was now a choice. I realized that no force was making me write this book, and the words weren’t always going to flow out without any effort like they had at first. Still, I wanted to finish this book. It was no longer about destiny or the possible success that could come with what I think might be my finest novel. It was about the joy in what I was doing.

   It’s an ironic title, isn’t it? I thought that this book was my destiny, and I’ve thought that a lot of things were that. I was supposed to be a certain way and be around certain people. It was all planned out. Maybe that’s too boring, though. Maybe I don’t want that anymore. I chose this book, and whether it’s a success or a failure, I’m proud of that. It wasn’t the type of story I was supposed to write, and it wasn’t what my readers expected me to do, but it’s something worth taking a chance on. It’s something I want to build on.

   What I’m really writing this for is to tell everyone one simple thing. I don’t believe in meant to be, not anymore. I believe in finding something or someone you believe in and building on that every day. Who cares if you’re wrong or if the rest of the world might think you’re a fool? It’s not what they think you should do, but what you know is right in your heart. That applies to careers and relationships alike. Maybe that’s the closest thing to a compass we really have. We have this innate ability to just know when something is right, but yet we ignore that instinct too much in favor of popular opinion or supposed wiser company. Maybe that’s the closest thing to destiny that’s actually real. Maybe we’re given instinct as a reminder of where we ought to go, and everything else that we’re told we’re supposed to say, do, and feel is just noise. At least that’s how I see it. Life is a lot simpler this way. I just follow what I feel is right for me, and the results are yet to be seen, but it’s been a much better ride over the last two months.

   Thanks for reading this. Look forward to more updates on Destiny and the future of The Unseen series soon.

Falling Back In Love

   I wanted to update everyone on my writing today. It is the beginning of a new year, so I thought I would let everyone know how things are going. You might wonder what that has to do with the title. It actually has a lot to do with it. I’ve always loved writing, but when I first started on Wrong Place, it was like I had a hungering need to come back to those characters over and over again. It felt a lot like love. When any relationship is fresh, we normally have all of these huge dreams for it, and we believe that the new feelings we have might never fade. They do, though, and reality eventually hits. It’s just a relationship. Even if it’s a good one, it’s still just like everyone else’s, or at least very close to the same. The passion in who we love is lost. In the same way, what we do can be filled with passion and love. Looking back, I loved writing those first books more than I’ve loved anything else except for my family. (Sorry, friends!) The last few novels I’ve written have held a familiar love for me, but it was a cooler love. It wasn’t filled with the excitement that it was at the beginning. The know how in writing was there, and the love never left, but the passion . . . that was gone. I’ve started a new book over the last month. It’s a standalone title that is far different than the other things I’ve done. It’s a romance/slice of life kind of story, and because I had no expectations or idea which direction it should go in, I’ve been able to pour whatever I wanted to into it without limiting any creative expression. From page one of this new story, I found the passion that I had been missing. I opened up another chapter in my life as a writer and opened up to the idea of making characters who were neither good or bad but simply perfectly imperfect. That statement might sound a little off, but it’s what I look for every day in people. I don’t want people in my life who believe they always do the right thing or those who hurt just to hurt. I want all the flaws and imperfections in them and myself to be the breadcrumbs that tie our stories together. That’s what this story is about - two people you could argue are actually terrible people who grow and change into what we all do. We go from innocence to skepticism and vanity. We start our lives believing in people and with a fair amount of humility, and by the midpoint of it, we seem to have nothing but doubt in those around us, and we only rely on ourselves, as if we could solve anything meaningful that way. Then we think back to who we used to be - that kid who wanted to grow up and figure out life so fast. We realize that the kid had life figured out better than we do now, and we wish to go back to a place of innocence, optimism, and complete passion about the people and things in our lives. I guess that’s where I’m at now as a person, and it’s what my story is about. I’m writing a story that shows two people grow up from the age of fourteen until they are in their thirties. It’s cute, funny, and romantic, but in the middle and late story it also shows the betrayals of those around us and of ourselves. It shows how our dreams and moral values can be so easily thrown to the side for what we think we want, but at the end of it all, we find that we wish we could make it back to the beginning and just enjoy that for a little longer. Just like in this book, we have to question, is it too late? Can you go back to innocence and passion after it has passed you by? I think so. I’ve found my passion in writing again through this book, and I’m still searching for the innocence part. Maybe we do lose that forever, but pure love for someone or something is still worth pursuing. As long as you haven’t given up on an idea, it’s not over. You still have a chance at being who you should be in a situation you can be happy in and passionate about.

   You might be asking why I would write a book about people who go from pureness to complete chaos - people who are probably awful. Here’s why. I see those people everywhere. I see one of them when I look in the mirror. We find happiness, we pray it never changes, it does, and then we walk away from it without ever thinking that another spark could appear. I see it every day. People lose passion in their jobs, marriages, and friendships. Some say it’s time for a change and walk away. Others simply say that it’s normal. They think that all people eventually hate what they do and that love was never about a feeling or passion at all. To them, the dullness that takes over life is simply an inevitable normality that we all must face. I’m here to tell you that it isn’t. I’m back in love with my career, and it all came from shaking up what I write about and opening up to what I really care about. Right now, that’s people and what motivates us to love and lie, so that’s what I’m writing about. I think the same can apply in relationships. Don’t walk away from a person or a job that you used to love. It’s the easy thing to do. Anyone can say it just wasn’t meant to last and leave all that could have been behind. Nothing worth accomplishing will ever happen without hardship, though. Life isn’t about finding what or who will always make you feel good. It’s about figuring out what or who you love and then finding ways to make that something that always feels fresh and new, no matter how long you’ve been concentrated on that person or career. That’s the hard part, and it comes with a lot of peaks and valleys. When you’re down in those valleys, it can feel like all you loved is gone, but when you don’t walk out, you might just find that when you reach the peak once again, the same feelings that existed before never actually left. They just needed a reason to come out again. That love was, and always would be, inside you. Don’t leave before you can find it again. I see too many marriages ending around me and too many people who quit on passions that used to make their lives whole. Maybe I’m just sentimental. I’ve always been a one woman, one car, one house kind of guy. I don’t believe in quitting anything or on anyone, and that’s often led to a lot of people not quite understanding me. I like that, though. I don’t think there’s enough of those people in the world. I want to be that person who’s always with the same woman and is pursuing the passions that deep down have always been within me. In short, many people claim that love is an action and that passion has absolutely nothing to do with it. They think that feelings are just something that fades with time and that love and a feeling are two different things. I can see that to some extent. You don’t have to feel passion to love someone or something, but I will say this. Passion is the thing that drives us through those low areas in love, and it’s something that’s lost many times in life, but those brief glimpses we get of it are worth all the work that comes along the way. Life is only a collection of moments. Don’t waste your moments by walking away before you get back to where you want to be with the people and things you love. It’s the biggest crime you could commit against yourself. See the obvious. See the man or woman who you love, the children who make your life worth living, and the passions that used to consume you. Now, remember how all of those things used to make you feel. Remember how it felt the first time you loved that person or those children and what it was like when you first found something that you would have done for free. It was a pure love, and it brought a freshness to your life. Now, try to get back to that place. They say that we can’t love like we’re sixteen when we’re old and that we can’t go back to the bright young person who had all the hope in the world in their career. They say it’s over. I say that you’ll catch glimpses of who you once were if you only keep looking. You can’t go back, and you can’t ever find the innocence that you once had, but catching glimpses of it and realizing that you’re still that person inside is worth all the effort in the world. Trust me. I find the little pieces of a younger me sometimes, and I feel all of the passion, love, and innocence that once was, and still can be, if I just don’t quit on it today.