Too Easy
When I was younger--mostly before high school--I took up a few interests that my parents invested in, trying to fan the flames that flared up, not wanting to put out any spark of creativity or possibility of a future career I might have. Little league, an archaeology camp that my mom drove me to and from for two hours for a week one summer a long time ago...Both those blew over. Sports were clearly never my thing, and digging up planted, fake animal remains kind of put me off of what would probably end up one of the most boring and thankless jobs in the world were I to stick with it. Fortunately music came along, and I am making a life out of that. Before that really took hold though, I took an art class for a week during some other summer, and I actually took something away from that. I still can't draw for shit, nor am I at all artistic in any visual medium whatsoever. I've actually got the sketchbooks somewhere back home to prove it. But we did have a unit on sculpture of which one lesson did actually stick. I remember the teacher telling us--and bear in mind I'm paraphrasing, and that I may even be getting this totally wrong--that the type of sculpture that involved building, or putting pieces together, rather than sculpting out of a solid block of wood or acrylic, was done so much less often because of its difficulty. In so many words, it was much easier to chop up a block of sandstone than to build anything out of plain sand. An analogy almost so obvious it's embarassing to say it out loud, but it's always stuck with me. It's so much easier to tear shit down than it is to put shit together.
It took a year to make me as happy as I'd ever been. It took three weeks for it all to go to shit.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not even as mad about this or at her as maybe anyone else would be--I fully understand where it came from. I was back and forth about whether or not it was worth staying in the relationship either. God knows I'll get over it eventually, I had a fulfilling enough life outside of her. But it hurts like shit to know it was so fucking easy to get rid of me.
I really do understand.
~Nate.
It took a year to make me as happy as I'd ever been. It took three weeks for it all to go to shit.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not even as mad about this or at her as maybe anyone else would be--I fully understand where it came from. I was back and forth about whether or not it was worth staying in the relationship either. God knows I'll get over it eventually, I had a fulfilling enough life outside of her. But it hurts like shit to know it was so fucking easy to get rid of me.
I really do understand.
~Nate.