(no subject)
I realized a few things today. I'll start with the easy ones.
This would make me happy, or at least reassure me that all men aren't a complete write-off:
I want to go out to dinner with someone. They don't have to pay for me, or open the door for me or pull out my chair. It doesn't even need to be a great restaurant. It could be pizza, sushi, or tacos for all I care.
I just want to go out to dinner with a guy and have a really interesting conversation for an hour or two where he wouldn't say anything too insulting and if he did he'd apologize for sounding like an ass. Same as I would. Then we would walk back, I'd invite him inside for a beer or some tea, and we would talk some more. Then after a while, he'd go home without trying to pressure me into sex or insinuate how much he'd like a blow job. I'd walk him to the door, tell him I had a great time, and not feel like I am horribly, horribly unattractive and repellant if he doesn't kiss me once.
But I guess that's a lot to ask for.
The other thing I realized makes me really sad. I tend to have a lot a self-destructive friends. I could name all the old friends from Vermont that I've known that are currently or have been in jail, hooked on drugs, alcoholics, had children, anorexic/bulimic, been suicidal, been depressed, been addicted to self-mutilation, or are dead, but it would take too long and it would be really depressing.
And I have plenty of friends in Boulder who are the same.
But anyway, the thing that I realized is:
I can't save my friends. I can help them, support them, be there for them to supply chocolate and hugs when they need it, but I can't really save them.
I realized that in a rehearsal for the performance I'm in (called Unfolding, I'll write more about it later). We were trying to embody our friends and community. I sat for a while, then started shaking, then started wailing. I was thinking of someone I dearly love who did the same thing very recently, while I was there to witness it, and later, comfort them. I talked about it with another friend, who had also been there, and we talked about the impulse to "rescue" someone.
It (tonight) became about all the friends I've wanted to rescue, but couldn't.
It started as outside of me, and then I was it. I was surprised by the tears on my cheeks, and it took me a while to calm down.
I can't save my friends from self-destruction.
This would make me happy, or at least reassure me that all men aren't a complete write-off:
I want to go out to dinner with someone. They don't have to pay for me, or open the door for me or pull out my chair. It doesn't even need to be a great restaurant. It could be pizza, sushi, or tacos for all I care.
I just want to go out to dinner with a guy and have a really interesting conversation for an hour or two where he wouldn't say anything too insulting and if he did he'd apologize for sounding like an ass. Same as I would. Then we would walk back, I'd invite him inside for a beer or some tea, and we would talk some more. Then after a while, he'd go home without trying to pressure me into sex or insinuate how much he'd like a blow job. I'd walk him to the door, tell him I had a great time, and not feel like I am horribly, horribly unattractive and repellant if he doesn't kiss me once.
But I guess that's a lot to ask for.
The other thing I realized makes me really sad. I tend to have a lot a self-destructive friends. I could name all the old friends from Vermont that I've known that are currently or have been in jail, hooked on drugs, alcoholics, had children, anorexic/bulimic, been suicidal, been depressed, been addicted to self-mutilation, or are dead, but it would take too long and it would be really depressing.
And I have plenty of friends in Boulder who are the same.
But anyway, the thing that I realized is:
I can't save my friends. I can help them, support them, be there for them to supply chocolate and hugs when they need it, but I can't really save them.
I realized that in a rehearsal for the performance I'm in (called Unfolding, I'll write more about it later). We were trying to embody our friends and community. I sat for a while, then started shaking, then started wailing. I was thinking of someone I dearly love who did the same thing very recently, while I was there to witness it, and later, comfort them. I talked about it with another friend, who had also been there, and we talked about the impulse to "rescue" someone.
It (tonight) became about all the friends I've wanted to rescue, but couldn't.
It started as outside of me, and then I was it. I was surprised by the tears on my cheeks, and it took me a while to calm down.
I can't save my friends from self-destruction.