Jaded & Cynical
The kittens are currently leaping onto the various bookshelves in my house in an attempt to catch a mosquito-eater. Unfortunately, even at the highest height, they're still about five feet short of the ceiling where the mosquito-eater is hanging out. It's worth a shot though, I suppose...
I think that there's something wrong with my hormones. I've been watching "The West Wing" in the background of various tasks for the past week or so. It's a fabulous show, especially the first few seasons. But in nearly every episode, there's a moment that just makes me choke, where I feel like I'm suddenly holding back my tears. It's odd - I mean, it's a very poignant and emotional show, at times, but I don't think I've ever had quite so many reactions to it. That's the only thing I'm irrationally emotive towards though, so maybe I've just gotten older or forgot how beautiful the show can be.
I think that in the past few days I've become jaded and cynical. Or rather, I think I've become aware of the fact that I might be jaded and cynical. Which would be an odd, since I consider myself to be an optimistic, sunshiney person. I was listening to my Ipod while driving around to see clients yesterday (let's not get into what an ordeal this job has become on some days), and a song called "Where Does the Good Go?" by Tegan and Sara came on. I've listened to this song several dozen times. It's off of the soundtrack fromthe first season of Grey's Anatomy, and when I first got that album fromthe library, I played it fairly endlessly for a few weeks. Anyway, the song came up, and I had that moment where my ears opened wide and I heard it like I haven't ever heard it before. There's this kind of bridge that steps in between the chorus every time that goes
"Look me in the eye and tell me you don't find me attractive
Look me in the eye and tell me you won't go
Look me in the eye and promise no love is like our love
Look me in the heart and unbreak broken, it won't happen
It's love that leaves that breaks
the seal of always thinking you would be
real happy and healthy, strong and calm.
Where does the good go?"
It was the first part that really got me...I think maybe because I see it as so freakin' unrealistic. I've had...let me see...six real boyfriends in my life. And I can assure you that every one of them promised me at one point or another not to leave. I can almost guarentee that nearly everyone says that in serious relationships - and not just romantic, I mean serious friendships too. And I absolutely hate the whole "No love is like our love" - I used to love lines like that in high school. But now, the realistic disbelieving part of my self says "Oh what crap...there's nothing new. And yes, this moment is completely unlike anything ever before, but does that really make it special? All moments are something new and therefore, all of them are special." How on earth is my love more important than yours?
I just...I think that being alone for 2 and a half years now has really changed me. And actually, I'd rather narrow that down to 2 years. Because again, I don't just mean romantically alone. I've been in Cleveland for nearly 2 years, and I still spend the bulk of my time on my own. My parents have been divorced for a years, Rachel just died...nothing lasts, I know that. And I don't expect all the people that I love to just disappear or leave me. But I think...I think maybe it's grown harder for me to trust new people in the last few months, what with me trying to get close to new people, beginning to form new relationships. I mean, if you honestly asked me, "Hester, in 3 years, will you and Brandon still be friends?" I could not honestly say yes to you. Even as I'm typing that, I'm hating myself a little because it seems like such a hurtful thing to say. I can actually feel my gut twisting a little because of it. Because it really just goes against...well, against a lot of the things that have come up in my conversations recently. I'm the kind of person who sees something going well and presumes that it will continue to go well. Like my friendship with Brandon. We're close. I therefore believe that we will continue to be close, say, 3 months from now. And actually, I believe that we will be even closer 3 months from now - because I believe that things not only continue on their path, they grow. Otherwise, they're just stagnant and static, and that bothers me. Granted, your relationship might not grow with everyone you meet and spend time with because we just don't have enough time in our lives to be close to everyone.
So why is it that I'm sitting here saying that 3 years from now, Brandon may not exist in my life? And again, I'm not just saying this about romantic relationships, I'm saying it about all relationships. But I think it's just easier to speak in the context of romance because you imprint yourself differently in those relationships.
Driving the car yesterday, I began to worry that maybe I'm back to the same fundamental issue I had years ago - I deep-rooted fear and belief that in the end, men will ultimately leave me. I know that this traces back far, that it goes straight back to my childhood and my abandonment issues with my brother. But...I guess that I just thought I had gone past that point. With Dan, I didn't have that fear...which, I suppose, backfired because he's gone now. I mean, we still talk and email, but he's not HERE. He's not a part of my life like Allan and Maria and Sarah.
It's like...how did I put it to Crystal on the phone yesterday...it's like I'm already trying to let go, like I'm already preparing myself for the day when he's gone, when we don't speak any more. And I just...I don't know what to do about that. Brandon and I spoke about this briefly about 3 weeks ago...he told me that he had this great fear that one day, I would leave. That I would just be gone, cut him out of my life. That's so unlikely to happen, and I soothed his fears as best I could. Because that's just not my style - my door is always open and I'm always happy to keep in touch with the past, although sometimes I'm horrifically bad at it. I've only ever cut one person out and even for him, I answered the phone when he called. Hell, when Chip emailed me a few years ago, I emailed him back. Of course, when we had this conversation, I didn't have my own version of this fear on my mind. I don't even know if it's a fear so much...I feel like I'm facing it more as a reality - this will happen, be prepared for it. Emotionally distancing, I suppose.
I don't know...I just had this on my mind, and I didn't know what to do with it. I still don't. Because if you say to a person, "Maybe in 3 years we won't be friends any more," they'll say, "That's ridiculous. I'll never leave you." It's astounding to me, sometimes, how many phrases fail to soothe me in life. I don't believe people when they say they won't leave, or they won't hurt me, or they're always be there. Or rather, I don't believe most people. Allan, I believe. Maria and Sarah, I believe. Maybe it's like I said earlier...maybe it's just new people that I don't believe.
I think that's enough talking for one night...time for reading and kitten cuddles.
I think that there's something wrong with my hormones. I've been watching "The West Wing" in the background of various tasks for the past week or so. It's a fabulous show, especially the first few seasons. But in nearly every episode, there's a moment that just makes me choke, where I feel like I'm suddenly holding back my tears. It's odd - I mean, it's a very poignant and emotional show, at times, but I don't think I've ever had quite so many reactions to it. That's the only thing I'm irrationally emotive towards though, so maybe I've just gotten older or forgot how beautiful the show can be.
I think that in the past few days I've become jaded and cynical. Or rather, I think I've become aware of the fact that I might be jaded and cynical. Which would be an odd, since I consider myself to be an optimistic, sunshiney person. I was listening to my Ipod while driving around to see clients yesterday (let's not get into what an ordeal this job has become on some days), and a song called "Where Does the Good Go?" by Tegan and Sara came on. I've listened to this song several dozen times. It's off of the soundtrack fromthe first season of Grey's Anatomy, and when I first got that album fromthe library, I played it fairly endlessly for a few weeks. Anyway, the song came up, and I had that moment where my ears opened wide and I heard it like I haven't ever heard it before. There's this kind of bridge that steps in between the chorus every time that goes
"Look me in the eye and tell me you don't find me attractive
Look me in the eye and tell me you won't go
Look me in the eye and promise no love is like our love
Look me in the heart and unbreak broken, it won't happen
It's love that leaves that breaks
the seal of always thinking you would be
real happy and healthy, strong and calm.
Where does the good go?"
It was the first part that really got me...I think maybe because I see it as so freakin' unrealistic. I've had...let me see...six real boyfriends in my life. And I can assure you that every one of them promised me at one point or another not to leave. I can almost guarentee that nearly everyone says that in serious relationships - and not just romantic, I mean serious friendships too. And I absolutely hate the whole "No love is like our love" - I used to love lines like that in high school. But now, the realistic disbelieving part of my self says "Oh what crap...there's nothing new. And yes, this moment is completely unlike anything ever before, but does that really make it special? All moments are something new and therefore, all of them are special." How on earth is my love more important than yours?
I just...I think that being alone for 2 and a half years now has really changed me. And actually, I'd rather narrow that down to 2 years. Because again, I don't just mean romantically alone. I've been in Cleveland for nearly 2 years, and I still spend the bulk of my time on my own. My parents have been divorced for a years, Rachel just died...nothing lasts, I know that. And I don't expect all the people that I love to just disappear or leave me. But I think...I think maybe it's grown harder for me to trust new people in the last few months, what with me trying to get close to new people, beginning to form new relationships. I mean, if you honestly asked me, "Hester, in 3 years, will you and Brandon still be friends?" I could not honestly say yes to you. Even as I'm typing that, I'm hating myself a little because it seems like such a hurtful thing to say. I can actually feel my gut twisting a little because of it. Because it really just goes against...well, against a lot of the things that have come up in my conversations recently. I'm the kind of person who sees something going well and presumes that it will continue to go well. Like my friendship with Brandon. We're close. I therefore believe that we will continue to be close, say, 3 months from now. And actually, I believe that we will be even closer 3 months from now - because I believe that things not only continue on their path, they grow. Otherwise, they're just stagnant and static, and that bothers me. Granted, your relationship might not grow with everyone you meet and spend time with because we just don't have enough time in our lives to be close to everyone.
So why is it that I'm sitting here saying that 3 years from now, Brandon may not exist in my life? And again, I'm not just saying this about romantic relationships, I'm saying it about all relationships. But I think it's just easier to speak in the context of romance because you imprint yourself differently in those relationships.
Driving the car yesterday, I began to worry that maybe I'm back to the same fundamental issue I had years ago - I deep-rooted fear and belief that in the end, men will ultimately leave me. I know that this traces back far, that it goes straight back to my childhood and my abandonment issues with my brother. But...I guess that I just thought I had gone past that point. With Dan, I didn't have that fear...which, I suppose, backfired because he's gone now. I mean, we still talk and email, but he's not HERE. He's not a part of my life like Allan and Maria and Sarah.
It's like...how did I put it to Crystal on the phone yesterday...it's like I'm already trying to let go, like I'm already preparing myself for the day when he's gone, when we don't speak any more. And I just...I don't know what to do about that. Brandon and I spoke about this briefly about 3 weeks ago...he told me that he had this great fear that one day, I would leave. That I would just be gone, cut him out of my life. That's so unlikely to happen, and I soothed his fears as best I could. Because that's just not my style - my door is always open and I'm always happy to keep in touch with the past, although sometimes I'm horrifically bad at it. I've only ever cut one person out and even for him, I answered the phone when he called. Hell, when Chip emailed me a few years ago, I emailed him back. Of course, when we had this conversation, I didn't have my own version of this fear on my mind. I don't even know if it's a fear so much...I feel like I'm facing it more as a reality - this will happen, be prepared for it. Emotionally distancing, I suppose.
I don't know...I just had this on my mind, and I didn't know what to do with it. I still don't. Because if you say to a person, "Maybe in 3 years we won't be friends any more," they'll say, "That's ridiculous. I'll never leave you." It's astounding to me, sometimes, how many phrases fail to soothe me in life. I don't believe people when they say they won't leave, or they won't hurt me, or they're always be there. Or rather, I don't believe most people. Allan, I believe. Maria and Sarah, I believe. Maybe it's like I said earlier...maybe it's just new people that I don't believe.
I think that's enough talking for one night...time for reading and kitten cuddles.