if you know me at all, then you know i’m someone who natters and picks at things until they’re worn to death, exhausted, reduced to the point of being ‘unpickable’.
i’m almost there in relation to this, but not quite, so apologies if it seems i’m droning on about it yet again. (this, how it often feels to me, so i assume it will seem that way to you as well.)
one of the real trials of mindfulness is that you can’t let yourself choke back things that swim up for consideration. i think that’s a healthy thing, for all it sometimes results in fits of what may appear to be moroseness or melancholy.
in actuality, it’s just me being me, dealing with whatever is in my head at the moment, and letting it be as it is when it is until it is no more so.
for now, regardless the parts of me that wish it were otherwise, much of my spare thinking is still focused on Michael.
whenever this kind of thing happens, i always want to carefully dissect it to see if there’s anything i’m missing, any further lessons to be learned, particularly if they are ‘blind spots’ in myself that i need to make myself look at or deal with so i can be happier and more in tune with myself.
also so i can at least hope not to repeat the same mistake and bring more suffering onto myself or others.
i entitled this ’30 +2′ because it is 32 days since my last contact with Michael and, once upon a time, it had been something of a joke that i would never go a month without talking to him; that if ever i did so, it would mean i was dead.
life has a way of making you eat words like that. it is sometimes depressing how regularly it serves them, usually with all manner of matted ugly about them.
but i’m pleased with myself because i have not given in to thoughts of trying again. this, a mistake i made much too eagerly and often with heath and even rick. there is a part of me that is never quite willing to ‘give up’ on friendships, on people; always willing to give them another chance.
i suppose it may sound kind of corny, but i believe it is important to be as willing to forgive as i wish to be forgiven. but, to date, it seems i am something of an alien in this regard. there seem to be some things that most people just aren’t willing (able?) to move past and i’m not always sure i understand the ‘why’ of it.
i tend to think of people as endlessly filled with potential. that, no matter what happens, the only time things become impossible is when we accept they are so. repeating patterns may or may not be in the mix, but regardless them, the only way to create a new pattern (or shatter an old one) is to keep exposing oneself to it all so the opportunity in which one may choose differently continues to present itself.
i’m tempted to say, “right?” but frankly, whether you agree or not isn’t part of the equation. this is how and who i am, i’ve never succeeded in being different, and i come to the conclusion that i like being this way (else it would change).
no one ever takes me seriously when i tell them i’d be willing and yes, happy, to ‘try again’. there are only two people in this life with whom i would not have such willingness and it’s hard to explain why they are the exception to the rule beyond saying simply that a good part of this willingness comes from a belief that it can be different and, for these two people, i’ve invested enough time and trying to know it cannot be.
one is my ‘father’. the other is my ‘sister’.
i won’t spill the gory details here and despite how casual or calm i may ‘read’ to you, those two decisions were the hardest i’ve ever made because they are the only family i have beyond my daughter. there isn’t a day that passes that i do not wish with all my heart and mind that it could be different with them. but i have enough scars and aches to know it cannot be and that is simply that.
i think the thing that bothers me most about the people who abandon my friendship is that i cannot help but think they think this of me and none of them have known me long enough or well enough to justify that conclusion. not even close to it.
most times, it just seems like knowing me has become too much ‘work’ for them and on the scale of value, they decide the effort isn’t worth what they are receiving; that i am not ‘worth’ it.
that’s hurtful and hard to think on. it touches very old wounds.
i no longer wonder ‘if i have value or worth’. i know i do. but i do wonder why people find it so easy to make this call/judgement in relation to me.
i don’t think it will ever hurt less. but perhaps i’ll figure out enough of how and why it happens to avert having it be a regular occurrence in my life.
a thought…. could it really be that i’m too giving? is it possible that i am not as discriminating as i should be?
this is the place where the conflict between my ego and my beliefs is sharpest. and i realize that i am not quite to the point where i fully accept and embrace putting myself first in life. not as an egoist effort, but as the means by which to more fully give and ‘be there’ for others.
but it has been 32 days and i have not contacted him and i will not contact him and frankly, despite the lingering hurt, i feel good about it.