I actually planned to submit a story for the Writing Fun Challenge. My conceit was that I would have chronicled the "eventful" day of the Maltese Falcon. Not the real one that the Russian tricked Gutman out of. No, it would have been the fake, heavy and lacquered and for one day "the stuff that dreams are made of". But, you see, I couldn't write to a deadline. Hell, I couldn't even start to a deadline. When I was younger, I thought I wanted to write, but I eventually realized that I don't have the spark in me to do so. And so, I'll never be a writer.
I'll never be a lawyer.
I never actually had the desire to go into the law as a profession but I figured out a while ago that law firms always have work and l aways have clients and therefore always have money. They are safe and so I work in the law. But a couple of weeks ago, I had to go to a nearby town (Smithville, if you must know) to fight a speeding ticket. I spent all day waiting for my chance to state my case. I was cool. I was confident. I was charming. And then I sat before the judge and all my preparations flew out of my skull, all my arguments melted away like ice. In the end, his Honor asked me why I even bothered coming before him. I had nothing to say in my own defense and he suggested that the next I found myself in this situation, I should call a lawyer.
I'll never be a linguist.
I like language. I like it a lot. But what use has it been to me? I've never been to Vatican City so my best other language is useless except for reading the occasional statue dedication or crest motto. I couldn't get up early enough to do well with Greek in college. I never went out and found a rabbi or a class or something similar to help me continue my self education in Hebrew. And Russian? You know, I could give you the detailed positions and compositions of military units before I could ask you how you felt. And now, even that seems so terribly ephemeral in my mind. It slips away and I just don't have the strength to chase it anymore.
I'll never be an astronomer.
When I was young, I could think of no greater way to spend my life than to devote it to the night sky. I was so young and so naive. How could I not know that for six thousand years and more men had been cataloging and analyzing that same sky, trying to plumb its secrets and, by doing so, know the mind of God? But that was what I wanted. And then I saw reality. Did you know that just about every advanced form of mathematics was created for the sake of astronomy? I went far enough that the numbers ceased to be numbers and the wonder died in me. Or maybe it was the other way around. I don't know. It's been far too long since I even thought about it. The last time I was out at McDonald Observatory, I ran into a guy I went to College with. He was Director of Visitor Programs. Maybe that could have been me.
I'll never be a strategist.
I've read so many of them: Master Sun, Clausewitz, Miyamoto, Rommel, Caesar. I've read of so many brilliant men: Alexander, Scott, Basil and Leo, Pericles, Solomon. I know their stories and their times. I know how they moved and why and what came of those master strokes and how they fought both the great wars and the small battles. I thought that, maybe, just maybe, if I could synthesize the logic and the patterns into myself, maybe I could find the path and the insight to work around anything that fell into the way of my journey. But it doesn't work. Not for me, anyway. I see each stone they have played on their own boards but there is no ear redding move for me. Hell, there isn't even the simplicity of black and white multiplying. There is only grey and all too often, the grey of regret.
I'll never be sure of myself.
I look back and I see mistakes stretching back to my earliest days. I screwed up in the law. I screwed up in the bars. I screwed up with my friends and I screwed up in the Army. I screwed up in College, with my parents and my grandparents, high school, Junior high, elementary, kindergarten... I screwed up with men and women and when I was a child, I screwed up with boys and girls. I feel like Coyote some days: knowing what is wise and right because I've done it every other way already. As the man said, I'd trade a little growth to even remember a little happiness.
And why am I telling you all this?
Because I can only define myself by what I am not, not by what I am. I only see my failure.
Because in a month, I will be a husband. And I can't fail.
One day, I will be a father. And I can't fail.
There will be too many hearts wrapped up in what I do, my own least of all. And too many lives. And what happens if I fail again?
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