I have a tiny confession to make now. One that will come as zero surprise to anyone who's been reading my drivel for any length of time.
I don't know what I'm fucking talking about. Or writing about. What the fuck ever.
Luckily, for me, and for you at home, I sometimes have help. Like tonight. Tonight I've been fortunate and privileged enough to have had The Reverend (370), from the Avery Brewing Company, join me for an evening of contemplation and soul searching.
I've had a question on my mind for a couple of years now. Closer to three years actually, but it doesn't matter exactly how long it's been. This question is eternal, and it's been asked by nearly everyone since the beginning of the beginning of the beginning of consciousness.
It's been asked for a long fucking time, in other words.
It's a two-part question actually. The first part is Is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?
The answer to that question is, of course, fucking yes and yes and yes and fucking yes.
I've written about this before, and it's actually one of the few subjects in which I don't feel like I'm just pulling answers out of my ass.
It's approximately seven hundred gazillion asstillion times better to have loved than to never have loved. Go ahead. Prove me wrong. I dare you to try.
And the really neat thing is, to love and then lose doesn't change a fucking thing. We live to love.
I'll say it again. We live to love.
Losing is, while not quite irrelevant, losing is nothing nothing nothing nothing fucking nothing compared to the loving.
So that's the first part of the two-part question.
The second part of the question is Why is it better?
And, tonight at least, I know the answer. At least as much as someone like me can know the answer.
The answer is actually quite simple.
Because sometimes, like maybe once in a lifetime if you're lucky, you don't lose.
Because sometimes, you get to love and you get to win.
To love is to open yourself to that possibility. To surrender yourself to that possibility of happiness. To allow yourself to have hopes, and dreams, and to imagine just how incredibly wonderful life could be.
I could be loved back.
Then I would win.
That hope, that trumps everything else. All of the pain. All of the heartache. All of the disappointment and the depression and the suicidal thoughts.
Hope is what separates us from the animals. Hope is what makes us human. So we keep looking. Even after failure after dismal failure, we keep looking for hope.
And, when we find ourselves in love, we also find the hope that's been buried so deeply within us that we almost forgot it existed. Love unearths it, and breathes new live into it, and resurrects it.
It takes over.
Nothing else matters.
Nothing else exists.
We become hope.
And I can't think of a loftier goal.
Someday, I hope to love and win.