A Special Kind...Of Greatness.
Where this feeling came from, I have no idea. Maybe I had romanticized all of those movies I enjoy and made them into something that translated into real life. I had faith, that in the end, a person could end up together with that special person they truly harbored after. That, despite the hardships, separations, disagreements, and general tomfoolery, fate would have in store for me what it did for these characters. Because of these movies, I truly believed that good people get the happy ending they truly desire; whether it be in love, in the life they desire, or both.
At exactly what point I lost belief in all of these things, it's hard to say. Maybe it was spending four years in L.A. and having nothing to show for it. At least in my career, that is. Sure, I spent a day on the Scrubs set and spent 12 fun filled hours shooting an episode of "The Gilmore Girls", but background talent doesn't really account for much, does it. Sure, I got my first starring role in a short film entitled "Just Add Meat". It was a small project that my friends and I put together that never made it from the film from which it was shot on. Needless to say, while there were certainly fun times, the entire time spent in L.A. simply added to a mountain of debt and the beginnings of a broken man.
I guess that's not entirely true. My hopes were high for coming back to Boise. My friends and I were going to take the city of Boise by storm. Except, as it always happens in life, things get in the way. New jobs, marriage, grad schools, and break ups inevitably throw down the gauntlet and win out in the end. Too much time is consumed talking about things instead of actually getting out there to face the rejection. These used to be reasons in the past, but now simply look like excuses for not taking risks.
Perhaps with aging that feeling of greatness slowly disappears. It seems like just yesterday my best friend and I promised each other that if we didn't find stability in our careers by the age of 30, we'd call it quits and find a nice, boring career. Sure, that promise was made after a fair amount of Miller Lite had been drank and we were standing on our porch in Burbank, but it was a promise nonetheless, right? Now, here I am, thirty one, and still fighting the good fight. And next month, he will be 30. So, in accordance with the Miller Lite pact of 2004, we must go our separate ways, right?
Not if we are still looking for that special "greatness" that we believed that's afforded to us. We will use that hard work, dedication, true grit, and a little bit of luck to find that niche in life. By the time I approached 30, I had given up on many of these things. I was too busy searching for marriage and settling down in a job I didn't like because I wanted to do what society dictated me to do. I settled for a girl that was never right for me. I gave up on my idea of greatness and fate and instead settled for simple and boring. Life was not the same for me. That was about two and a half years ago.
Perspective started to take place about a year and half ago. Events in my life had persuaded me to continue on and I found a thrill in the things I had once believed in. Despite the rejections and the obstacles, the little sparkle of hope once again returned to my eyes. I have chosen this life and am proud of it. It is definitely hard at times, but I'm finding joy in the little things that I had lost track of over the years. I continue to push on in hopes of finding stability in the destiny I have chosen for myself. Hopefully, with a little luck, hard work, dedication, and sacrifice, I can find those things in life that I've always sought out. Sometimes fate is a cruel mistress, but in the end people get what they deserve. Maybe I won't get that ending I've been searching for, but I know that without a fight, there is too much regret and too many "what ifs". That's what I've come to realize over the last year.
I do not give up that easily. I maybe be a dreamer, but sometimes the best dreams are the ones that eventually come true.
"The heart wants what it wants, when it wants it, or else it doesn't care." Emily Dickinson