Idealism to Arrogance- A Rant About Dreams
I've been in love two times in my life, and those two relationships have been complex, character influencing journeys each time. For information's sake (since I'll most likely be mentioning them in the future) I'll just give whoever reads this a baseline so I don't feel compelled to waste time in a later entry.
The two people I loved- and actually was in love with- actually overlapped in my timeline. One's name was John- he was 3 years older than I was- am- is- whatever (said the editor).
The other's name was Kate. She is the one I will be posting about right now.
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One thing I'll forever be grateful to Kate for was for the introduction to the amazing world of dreams- not nighttime dreaming, with its fore into the land of terrors and darkness, but the amazing, uplifting day dreams, the sharing of ideas that make the future seem so bright. The way we talked- we shared ideas, mused about everything, from our home, to our childrens' schooling, to our neighborhood- it was like we viewed the whole world, and when we saw something we wanted in our future, we snipped it out, sewing it into the ever expanding cloud of ideals; a patchwork quilt of future dreams.
Those talks are what made me realize I could look forward to the future; those ideas made the future less intimidating because, all of the sudden, I realized that I had a say in it all. I could choose which turns to take.
It empowered me. It made me feel like I had the courage to pursue anything.
During the few years after we graduated highschool, my friendship with Kate was erratic, at best. Our encounters were few and far between, and often, Kate's manner, to me, was less than warm. She was cordial- until the moment when she decided I was a 'fair weather friend' and dropped contact with me for months.
She appeared back in my life one night at a bar where I'm a regular; soon after, we were meeting for drinks, just the two of us.
One night in particular, Kate arrived in a flurry of excitement. She told me she'd gotten a job offer in Costa Rica, and she was leaving in a few weeks. After the giddy congratulations had died down, our conversation became nostalgic. I, for my part, was reminiscing about those days, afternoons, and evenings full of the conversations I mentioned earlier.
But then, Kate said something totally unexpected.
"Wow- we were so arrogant back then." she said, her all-too-familiar blue eyed, long lashed gaze slanting sideways to meet mine. She smiled, her head shaking in the smallest gesture- a dismissal that made my cheeks flame.
To me, it was as if Kate were writing off all those times. It was as if, to her, our dreams, our hopes, and our wishes for the future weren't worth anything. She sat there, nonchalantly stomping on our past as friends. I heard myself murmur a vague assent that seemed to satisfy her, which I was glad of; frankly, it was at that moment that I stepped back, in my mind. I distanced myself from a person I had loved, because, to me, it was all to clear that she was gone.
That was the last time I ever saw Kate. We had plans to meet up the night before she left for Costa Rica- but something else came up. I'd like to think it was really important, but the truth is, I'm not sure it was.
I've thought about the whole situation a lot since then. I know I wasn't rational, and I know that I probably wasn't being fair. But the fact was, Kate had hurt me. Not because she'd changed- God knows, we all change- Kate hurt me because she, in one short sentence, had managed to trivialize something about our friendship that I'd held so dear to my heart.
And it wasn't even just that.
Kate was the person who helped me empower myself- she taught me to reach for the stars. All those dreams- it wasn't like they were even grand. They were just- pieces. pieces of our lives that we had in mind. But I knew Kate- I'd known her a long time, so when she said that the way we dreamed was arrogant, I knew that, behind those words, there was another meaning. There was another half of the sentence that she didn't have to say out loud in order for me to understand.
Because when Kate said our dreams were 'arrogant', she was also implying that they were unrealistic.
I think to myself, even now, what was so unrealistic to her?
We wanted our children to learn- to want to learn, so when they'd get home, we'd ask them 'What did you learn today?' and they'd tell us. And then we'd ask 'What did you want to learn today?'- and we'd see if we could help them learn that.
We wanted to make sure that the schools we sent them to were wonderful, so we were going to go and sit through a whole day there, instead of getting the faculty tour.
We wanted to have a house brimming with light and life and creative expression.
We wanted to be surrounded by laughter and friendship and love.
We wanted to be happy.
We wanted to be Happy.
What on earth makes that arrogance? What on earth makes the dream of living a happy, full life unrealistic?
Even worse, did Kate mean that she had become realistic? Had she given up on happiness for a more easily pursued goal?
So, when she spoke, the words I heard- and continue to hear, much later, playing in my head, weren't "God- we were so arrogant back then."
Instead, they play like this:
"I'm not arrogant anymore. I gave up on that impossible dream of being happy- wasn't it silly of us to want that? Thank God I know better now."
The two people I loved- and actually was in love with- actually overlapped in my timeline. One's name was John- he was 3 years older than I was- am- is- whatever (said the editor).
The other's name was Kate. She is the one I will be posting about right now.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
One thing I'll forever be grateful to Kate for was for the introduction to the amazing world of dreams- not nighttime dreaming, with its fore into the land of terrors and darkness, but the amazing, uplifting day dreams, the sharing of ideas that make the future seem so bright. The way we talked- we shared ideas, mused about everything, from our home, to our childrens' schooling, to our neighborhood- it was like we viewed the whole world, and when we saw something we wanted in our future, we snipped it out, sewing it into the ever expanding cloud of ideals; a patchwork quilt of future dreams.
Those talks are what made me realize I could look forward to the future; those ideas made the future less intimidating because, all of the sudden, I realized that I had a say in it all. I could choose which turns to take.
It empowered me. It made me feel like I had the courage to pursue anything.
During the few years after we graduated highschool, my friendship with Kate was erratic, at best. Our encounters were few and far between, and often, Kate's manner, to me, was less than warm. She was cordial- until the moment when she decided I was a 'fair weather friend' and dropped contact with me for months.
She appeared back in my life one night at a bar where I'm a regular; soon after, we were meeting for drinks, just the two of us.
One night in particular, Kate arrived in a flurry of excitement. She told me she'd gotten a job offer in Costa Rica, and she was leaving in a few weeks. After the giddy congratulations had died down, our conversation became nostalgic. I, for my part, was reminiscing about those days, afternoons, and evenings full of the conversations I mentioned earlier.
But then, Kate said something totally unexpected.
"Wow- we were so arrogant back then." she said, her all-too-familiar blue eyed, long lashed gaze slanting sideways to meet mine. She smiled, her head shaking in the smallest gesture- a dismissal that made my cheeks flame.
To me, it was as if Kate were writing off all those times. It was as if, to her, our dreams, our hopes, and our wishes for the future weren't worth anything. She sat there, nonchalantly stomping on our past as friends. I heard myself murmur a vague assent that seemed to satisfy her, which I was glad of; frankly, it was at that moment that I stepped back, in my mind. I distanced myself from a person I had loved, because, to me, it was all to clear that she was gone.
That was the last time I ever saw Kate. We had plans to meet up the night before she left for Costa Rica- but something else came up. I'd like to think it was really important, but the truth is, I'm not sure it was.
I've thought about the whole situation a lot since then. I know I wasn't rational, and I know that I probably wasn't being fair. But the fact was, Kate had hurt me. Not because she'd changed- God knows, we all change- Kate hurt me because she, in one short sentence, had managed to trivialize something about our friendship that I'd held so dear to my heart.
And it wasn't even just that.
Kate was the person who helped me empower myself- she taught me to reach for the stars. All those dreams- it wasn't like they were even grand. They were just- pieces. pieces of our lives that we had in mind. But I knew Kate- I'd known her a long time, so when she said that the way we dreamed was arrogant, I knew that, behind those words, there was another meaning. There was another half of the sentence that she didn't have to say out loud in order for me to understand.
Because when Kate said our dreams were 'arrogant', she was also implying that they were unrealistic.
I think to myself, even now, what was so unrealistic to her?
We wanted our children to learn- to want to learn, so when they'd get home, we'd ask them 'What did you learn today?' and they'd tell us. And then we'd ask 'What did you want to learn today?'- and we'd see if we could help them learn that.
We wanted to make sure that the schools we sent them to were wonderful, so we were going to go and sit through a whole day there, instead of getting the faculty tour.
We wanted to have a house brimming with light and life and creative expression.
We wanted to be surrounded by laughter and friendship and love.
We wanted to be happy.
We wanted to be Happy.
What on earth makes that arrogance? What on earth makes the dream of living a happy, full life unrealistic?
Even worse, did Kate mean that she had become realistic? Had she given up on happiness for a more easily pursued goal?
So, when she spoke, the words I heard- and continue to hear, much later, playing in my head, weren't "God- we were so arrogant back then."
Instead, they play like this:
"I'm not arrogant anymore. I gave up on that impossible dream of being happy- wasn't it silly of us to want that? Thank God I know better now."