Ode to albatrosses

An albatross can fly for thousands of miles without getting tired. I've always thought that love is similar to flying; therefore we should aspire to be like the albatross.

I’m not an albatross. I can’t fly, I’ll never have wings, and I just don’t have that sort of determination. I’ve been told that some people have dreams that they’re flying, I’ve never had those. I’d love to dream that I’m flying, instead I have crappy dreams where I’m riding a bike along a motorway and that I never get anywhere, or that a giant disco ball falls on top of me, completely flattening me, and just as I’m dying Matt tops it all by breaking up with me using the excuse, “I’m breaking up with you before you break up completely.” Apparently my subconscious has a really bad sense of humour.

So anyway, according to me, one day I’ll meet someone, test my wings and I’ll be able to fly. Thing is, I don’t actually really believe in The One. I hear people talk about it, this ideal we’re all looking for, one person who will complete us, our perfect other halves, the one person who will allow me at last to fly. But, while my belief of The One is limited, if not incredulous, I do believe at least in happiness. I believe that you can find someone who you can spend every night with, and still want to see more of. I believe in someone who can make you that little bit better, that little bit happier.

I never believed in him, I wanted to, I craved to. I’ve always found myself to be lonelier than other people alone are, at the time I didn’t know exactly why, I just sort of thought it was me. I’m clearer headed now, less guarded, less troubled by demons; I know what it is that makes me worse. And I don’t need it confirmed and questioned by other people.

Now I believe in that person because I found him. I found someone who I can spend hours with, and still wish to see more. I found someone who finds it endearing that I’m completely insane. I found someone who loves me regardless of my insecurities, and who I love regardless of his flaws. Its that perfect ideal that I always so hated, the people who are happy, the people who don’t need others recognition or acceptance because they have one person who matters, and essentially everyone else who does not.

I am the albatross; I can fly better than any other I’ve ever met. I don’t have the problems of my egocentric schizophrenic mother, nor my jinxed and perpetually lonely downtrodden father. I no longer have fears of both commitment or rejection, I don’t get depressed, and I’ve kicked my alcoholism to the extent where I rarely drink, and when I do, I do so carefully. From a nineteen year old this all sounds a little to middle aged, but from the shit that I’ve put myself through, it’s finally just an acceptance of life, and happiness.

I have my problems, but they aren’t with myself anymore, they’re the small things that hurt me the external factors. Inside myself, I’m always going to get through them, because inside, after all these years, I’m whole. The battle was fought, the war was won, and whatever happens with my sweetheart, even if we end, it won’t matter because he made me better, he made me happy, and it’ll hurt to lose him, but I’ll never lose the gifts he gave me, or the changes I endured. I can’t go back to the ground once I’ve learnt how to fly.

Labels: Flying