I Could Have Been

I could have been a good writer. Indeed, in my early years… and often now… and in between, I have been much more dramatic than I liked to be. If things are good and stable in my personal life, I manage to put some distance and then write that more relaxed literature I like to read. But, when things are good and stable in my life, I tend not to write, I live my life. I am a bit lazy but that is ok because when I get into mood, I can spit 10-15 pages a day and I can afford to do that because I am a story-teller, not a true writer. I had a good start, some published stories, some fans, some awards. That time is now lost amongst the shadows of the past. I have reasons, good reasons for which I never became a writer… but when I think “where there is will, there is a way” none manages to stay upright.
I could have been an excellent IT professional. I am not so much gifted for technology (maybe in the sense “I know I am stupid but when I look around I recharge with hope”) as my thirst for knowledge and care for my self-esteem, my public image. After being a mediocre student in university, I got ashamed of myself and started making up for all those “lost” years. I learned and learned, burned the midnight oil, testing, trying, understanding in depth what I was doing. I earned some got some certifications and degrees, I earned the respect of my peers. Changing jobs so often (most of the time not by my choice) I wasn’t lucky to have the companies pay for my training. I gave it all up when I realized that all this knowledge made me very frustrated. I had a hard-time convincing some people who did system administration like 10 years ago of the truths I had acquired through hard work. My frustration made me be less than nice and, several times, instead of this knowledge consolidating my position, my behavior took precedence and I suspect I was let go because most companies don’t need “fountains of knowledge” but “team players”, no matter how little they know. For the last 4-5 years, I ran on fumes –fumes and experience were good because I accomplished what was required of me (oh, God, how much more I could have done), I kept my colleagues and bosses happy. So, dropping the ball really paid off. I can’t help though imagine that I could have written technical books, implement grandiose projects, be much more than I am now.
I could have been a family man. Before the divorce, although never exercised these skills until maturity, I used to be a handyman, read, research and then do: ceramic tiles, drywall, electricity, doors, fences, and fix the basic stuff on the car. After the divorce I learned to cook (not french-fries or spaghetti sauce), wash and remove stains, clean the house, do homework with my son. I could have been but I am not – sometimes I don’t see the point, I am alone, when I am alone there is no reward, no “Good Job” from a woman relieved to find dinner. I could have been if only I were satisfied with this, but when I wash the toilets, I think of writing and when I’m writing I remember that the toilets needs a cleanup.
I could have been an adventurer. Don’t laugh. I yearned for this. I am innovative, always come up with an idea when things seem tough and lost. I love to test my limits and while I am bitching when things are not the ideal way, going through hardships gives me a good feeling. I prepare well for anything out of ordinary, anticipate situations whatever few would bother to consider. And the stories… I love to collect stories, memories of people I met and their stories, stay in a place and understand what might seem difficult to understand. Again, a million reasons and none stay upright because, after all, my present life shows that I am afraid of breaking a mold and doing whatever I am good at and wish for, instead doing what I was programmed by my education to do.
I could have been an investment agent, a banker, a risk-taker. I like the game, I love to anticipate and when that is supported by information, desire to understand, one can quickly become a winner. I like making money, because I mostly hate them and, while keeping my desires in check, I resent having to take them in calculation. I could have been a good investment agent. But that is never in the cards, my cowardice keeps me spinning the hamster wheel (albeit, the golden one) I am spinning.
I could have been a lover. I am romantic, I have imagination, I love women, I need them. But I never became one because… because I am not made that way. I only need one woman, can’t live the present, uncertainty of who will be in my bed when I will woke up makes me nervous. I am missing 7-8 cm… heyyy, in height, you sick minds! I have many of the qualities of a lover but I am missing some basic ones.
I could have been so many things. Looking back from this point (I almost said midlife; how can I possible know? Maybe it’s my 2/3 or maybe I am living my last moments) I am upset with the too many options I had in life, ones I opened up myself, others that were opened for me. I am upset on myself for being so dissipated, unfocused (although many of my acquaintances would swear by the opposite) as to allow myself to start so many things and leave these paths in the middle of the road. I could have been pretty much anything I wanted if only I could. So, after all, I couldn’t and the reason why matters little and in truth I could only be what I am now. Not much which is perfect! Nobody is perfect and as I am a nobody…

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