(no subject)
I once dated a guy who's mother hated me. Like really, really loathed me. I trace it back to his graduation party. He didn't think I was coming, but I showed up anyhow. When he saw me he swung me around and told his parents I was the "best graduation present EVER!!!" She didn't say another thing directly to me for the rest of the time I knew her.
One afternoon I was in his company and he asked if I'd like to stay for dinner. I don't usually eat at other people's homes because (a) I hate eating in front of people and (b) I'm an absurdly picky eater who is allergic to everything. It seems quite rude to sit in someone's home after they've offered to feed you and question their methods...even if it's a life/death situation. I agreed to stay because I liked his company so much - and we went to tell his mother (and do the "will merryn die if..." checklist). When he asked her what she was making she looked at me and answered "Stewed Beef."
Oh...dear....lord.
Now - the woman knew I didn't eat meat. She had never known me to eat meat as I didn't start eating it again until about a year later (I'm back in a "no meat" phase currently). She knew before he reminded her. She made the stewed beef anyway.
So you make a choice - do you muddle through it...or do you walk?
It seems life is a string of these moments. These sections of time where you have to decide what you're willing to put on the line, what you're willing to wade through - for another person. You put the "if I do's" in a line and face them against the "if I don'ts" and you wait for them to gun each other down.
I've come to such a moment and the generals on either side refuse to give it the old TALLY-HO! Both sides know how and why we got here but nobody wants to fight about it...or even talk about it anymore. ((Yes, I probably have some sort of dissociative identity disorder for thinking there are not one, but TWO armies inside my brain...another day for that, I'm sure.)) They (and myself) seem to be just waiting it out - letting time decide whether or not this is something I can live with...or if I love myself too much to deal with this for an undetermined length of time.
For the record: I did not eat the stewed beef. Tom's father (who liked me quite a bit, actually) made me egg noodles and beets. It pissed his mom off something fierce...but in that two hours before dinner I really stopped caring. It's funny how quickly things can stop mattering.
In your moment did you muddle through...or did you walk?
One afternoon I was in his company and he asked if I'd like to stay for dinner. I don't usually eat at other people's homes because (a) I hate eating in front of people and (b) I'm an absurdly picky eater who is allergic to everything. It seems quite rude to sit in someone's home after they've offered to feed you and question their methods...even if it's a life/death situation. I agreed to stay because I liked his company so much - and we went to tell his mother (and do the "will merryn die if..." checklist). When he asked her what she was making she looked at me and answered "Stewed Beef."
Oh...dear....lord.
Now - the woman knew I didn't eat meat. She had never known me to eat meat as I didn't start eating it again until about a year later (I'm back in a "no meat" phase currently). She knew before he reminded her. She made the stewed beef anyway.
So you make a choice - do you muddle through it...or do you walk?
It seems life is a string of these moments. These sections of time where you have to decide what you're willing to put on the line, what you're willing to wade through - for another person. You put the "if I do's" in a line and face them against the "if I don'ts" and you wait for them to gun each other down.
I've come to such a moment and the generals on either side refuse to give it the old TALLY-HO! Both sides know how and why we got here but nobody wants to fight about it...or even talk about it anymore. ((Yes, I probably have some sort of dissociative identity disorder for thinking there are not one, but TWO armies inside my brain...another day for that, I'm sure.)) They (and myself) seem to be just waiting it out - letting time decide whether or not this is something I can live with...or if I love myself too much to deal with this for an undetermined length of time.
For the record: I did not eat the stewed beef. Tom's father (who liked me quite a bit, actually) made me egg noodles and beets. It pissed his mom off something fierce...but in that two hours before dinner I really stopped caring. It's funny how quickly things can stop mattering.
In your moment did you muddle through...or did you walk?