“Only the impossible is worth your time.” This successful author writes that in an essay and I wonder if she means it—you know, if she practices it in reality. She is a writer after all, and aren’t we are all so strong on the page?
Here in the space between the Times-New-Roman black and Word-document white I am David in this Goliath life. I am resolute and determined and everything I know is right wins; I do not resist the good things I am meant for; I easily deny the dark, the vampires, the fear. Here on this page I could live without her.
But in real time, this bold strength isn’t available and everything is uncertain shades of gray. I have yet to learn how to say No when I should say No and Yes when I should say Yes. I don’t know how to be the brave person I so easily am on paper. I don’t understand boundaries. I don’t know how to demand—and subsequently fight for—what I deserve.
Without words and paper, I don’t know how to be.
I have been basking in an uncertain time in life for some time now. And this gray area, this limbo, it isn’t a blip of time, not a measly a layover between what was and what is. This time has been a vast unknowingness that dominates all else; uncertainty has become a lifestyle. I have become uncertain.
Home, work, love; LIFE—what am I doing? What can be done?
For two years now, everything has been up in the air. And you know what they say about “what goes up.” I’ve been waiting so hard for the come down. Where will I land?
I wanted to land with her.
More than anything I’ve ever wanted, I wanted that. But the thing about that, about having a desire that includes someone else, is that it is ultimately out of your control. Control freaks don’t like this; I don’t. But I have to remember that I can want and wish so hard, and give so much, and make healthy changes, but that is all I am in charge of. I cannot control someone else’s wants and wishes, I cannot control how much and how often someone gives, I cannot control someone’s speed of self-growth. All I can do is stay or leave—accept things how they are or make a change; the strategy of all happy people ever. Never blame someone else or try to change someone else; not only is it a waste of time, it’s an infantile way of approaching life. It is a recipe for unhappiness, expecting anything from anyone, really. Despite knowing all this, lately I’ve been infantile–I’ve been unhappy.
Life is hard, right? That’s a common assumption. Especially in this place and this time, the majority of people do not feel a true sense of belonging. America 2014—most people feel alone in some capacity. In the best relationships, lovers realize that life isn’t hard only for them, but for their partner too, and they do everything they can to make the other’s life easier, to make the other feel light and warm, secure. To make them feel that they belong.
The worst relationships are one-way streets. Vampires, I know them well.
Where’s the balance in love? It’s always too much or too little, it seems. I am guilty as well. To so many generous hearts I’ve not given enough, almost nothing; to a few I’ve given too much only to be left unrequited.
We call these latter relationships passionate. But do we not use passion as an excuse to tolerate what we do not deserve? I know what I deserve and it’s what those girls who loved me and I didn’t love back deserve, too: to never have to ask for love.
That is not to say that loving relationships don’t have issues to work through. Every relationship does, because humans are complex and emotion mysterious. But love—the feeling of warmth, of security, of a general wanting to make someone’s life better—that isn’t something you should have to fight for.
Put by one of my friends: You should want someone who wants you as you are.
Yet, in my experience, complex-by-nature humans can rarely be reduced to that sort of simplicity. The heart does whatever it wants despite any sound philosophy. Still, this theory is the thing we all strive for—an emotional match.
Puzzle pieces that fit—no one should settle for less, but how many of us try to force together what doesn’t mesh? In love, so many of us are chasing oil and water.
We chase oil and water yet pine for synthesis. Really you want to try someone on and like a good pair of jeans look in the mirror and think, “Damn, these fit perfect and I look pretty amazing. I am still me, only now I am me with a complementary pair of jeans that look and feel really good on me.” That’s what we all want—to feel complemented, to feel we are our truest selves yet improved–not made uglier–by our relationship. How many people settling for someone two sizes too big, infested with holes?
At a time of heart rebirth, I write this to remind myself that Love inherently expresses, it does not withhold—it doesn’t know how. Love by its very essence gives, unconditionally. If you have to ask for it, it isn’t love. It might be passion, but it isn’t love.