Dear ________,
I sincerely hope I haven't hurt you, but I fear that my hopes are in vain. By now you know that I've moved on and found someone else. I've put aside the candle that I was previously holding in hopes that I could use it to reignite the flame that I thought once existed between us. Brief though it was, you and I had something once. When it started, I thought it would last forever. I wanted it to last forever. I was so ecstatic when it happened that I wanted the whole world to know about it. Please forgive me for not understanding why you didn't. As devastated as I was when you ended our relationship, I'l be lying if I said it came as a complete surprise to me. I had plenty of subtle and obvious cues that told me you were dissatisfied. I simply chose to ignore them because I didn't want to believe it could end.
I eventually came to terms with it being over and just had to move on with my life. I often feel guilty for leaving you behind and I hope you will forgive me. I only ever wanted to make you happy and I do hope that I was able to put a smile on your face at least once but I now realize that you and I just aren't as compatible as I once thought we were. I sincerely hope you find someone else as I have. She's simply perfect for me and we're planning on getting married in May.
As badly as I wanted it to work out between you and me, I'm now glad that it didn't. You are a wonderful lady, but just not the lady for me. I'm certain that you will find someone who is perfect for you and I hope you recognize that when he appears. You deserve to be happy. You will someday make a some guy out there a very happy man. I wish you all the best.
Sinceriously,
David A. Baron
03 December 2011
11 June 2011
More Than Just a Headache
I've been wanting to write this one for a while but I always struggle for the right words. I hope that this will help some people understand the physical and emotional pain that accompany migraine attacks.
For as long as I can remember I've suffered from frequent headaches. As a child, they prevented me from participating in sports and other extracurricular activities for much more than a year. I eventually just decided to tough it out pushed through the pain so that I could do things like showing livestock in 4-H and playing percussion in the school band. I remember quite well those days when I was in high school and would immediately take a nap that lasted at least an hour upon returning home. Whether it was at the end of a normal day or after a tiresome marching band practice in 90+ degree weather with oppressive humidity, I had to take that nap before I could do any homework, or indeed anything at all.
It wasn't until I was in high school that I was diagnosed with migraine. They did all sorts of tests on me to rule out some of the more severe possibilities (such as brain tumor) that might explain why I was always getting headaches. The doctors all concluded that I was in perfect health with the exception of the frequent sensation that my brain was trying to escape the confines of my cranium with the use of an icepick. I even got my eyes checked and discovered that I have perfect vision in one eye and better than perfect in the other.
For the longest time, even after being diagnosed, I thought I was just hopelessly lazy or unreliable. This was, and sometimes still is, the cause of much grief for me. Imagine knowing there is a task you must complete but being entirely unable to do so because you cannot keep your eyes open without experiencing great pain. Imagine telling your friends that you won't be hanging out with them because you have a terrible headache. Imagine telling your mother or father that you can't help them with household chores or join them for a special family outing because you feel like your brain has switched to using a jackhammer instead of an icepick. Imagine having to cancel a date because you feel like your head will just explode. Imagine going through life feeling like everything would be so much better if you could just figure out a way to live without your head.
Consequently, living with migraines is more than just the physical pain that accompanies an attack. It's depressing. I don't know how many times I've been accused of faking it or been told that I'm letting everyone down. I suppose that in my case it hasn't happened too often. Most people with whom I associate seem to be understanding and even empathetic toward my condition. But there are those times when I just want to shove my fingers into some people's eyeballs so they can start to get a feeling for what it's like to suffer from a migraine.
For as long as I can remember I've suffered from frequent headaches. As a child, they prevented me from participating in sports and other extracurricular activities for much more than a year. I eventually just decided to tough it out pushed through the pain so that I could do things like showing livestock in 4-H and playing percussion in the school band. I remember quite well those days when I was in high school and would immediately take a nap that lasted at least an hour upon returning home. Whether it was at the end of a normal day or after a tiresome marching band practice in 90+ degree weather with oppressive humidity, I had to take that nap before I could do any homework, or indeed anything at all.
It wasn't until I was in high school that I was diagnosed with migraine. They did all sorts of tests on me to rule out some of the more severe possibilities (such as brain tumor) that might explain why I was always getting headaches. The doctors all concluded that I was in perfect health with the exception of the frequent sensation that my brain was trying to escape the confines of my cranium with the use of an icepick. I even got my eyes checked and discovered that I have perfect vision in one eye and better than perfect in the other.
For the longest time, even after being diagnosed, I thought I was just hopelessly lazy or unreliable. This was, and sometimes still is, the cause of much grief for me. Imagine knowing there is a task you must complete but being entirely unable to do so because you cannot keep your eyes open without experiencing great pain. Imagine telling your friends that you won't be hanging out with them because you have a terrible headache. Imagine telling your mother or father that you can't help them with household chores or join them for a special family outing because you feel like your brain has switched to using a jackhammer instead of an icepick. Imagine having to cancel a date because you feel like your head will just explode. Imagine going through life feeling like everything would be so much better if you could just figure out a way to live without your head.
Consequently, living with migraines is more than just the physical pain that accompanies an attack. It's depressing. I don't know how many times I've been accused of faking it or been told that I'm letting everyone down. I suppose that in my case it hasn't happened too often. Most people with whom I associate seem to be understanding and even empathetic toward my condition. But there are those times when I just want to shove my fingers into some people's eyeballs so they can start to get a feeling for what it's like to suffer from a migraine.
01 January 2011
A year in review...
What can I say about 2010? It started out really crappy, got super awesome somewhere in the middle, and ended rather mediocre. I guess mediocre is a few steps up from really crappy but it feels really crappy after super awesome. That's pretty much all I have to say about that.
To my anonymous commenter: I'm not quite sure what to say. I have my suspicions regarding your identity but somehow I feel like I would still be quite surprised were I ever to find out. Your words are both a blessing and a curse. Part of me wants to explain why but I suspect that you'll understand.
To my anonymous commenter: I'm not quite sure what to say. I have my suspicions regarding your identity but somehow I feel like I would still be quite surprised were I ever to find out. Your words are both a blessing and a curse. Part of me wants to explain why but I suspect that you'll understand.
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