Blah, Blah, Blah......
I was on the phone with a dear friend of mine yesterday, wishing for the ability to hug through phone lines, as I have so often wished for during my sojourn here in SK. If I could have one superpower I think that would be it, the ability to give physical affection regardless of distance, time and space. Imagine the comfort and strength one could give and gain from this prospect. The possibilities are damn near endless. This act of superhuman ability could change the world as we know it. Just think of our world leaders on a conference call deciding the fate of our insignificant planet. Voices are being raised, hands are shaking in righteous anger, fingers poised over the buttons that will activate the nuclear warheads that will reduce out world to a smoldering pile of radioactive waste and then….suddenly…..a warm embrace envelops them all, kind words of comfort whisper, “It’s all going to be ok……shhhhhhhh….” Their hands slowly drop to their sides; eyes close against the tears welling up in their depths. Deep breaths are taken and a new negotiation has begun, this one different, calmer, and quieter. This one filled with the promise of a bright and perhaps more peaceful future. That’s the power of my fucking love.
This would also grant me all sorts of other delicious opportunities that I will not post here out of consideration for my mother.
That and I am a lady.
Anyway, where was I?..... Oh right, on the phone…. so. She’s having some “relationship” problems (is there any other kind?) and I was doing my best to hear where she was coming from but to also listen to what she was saying, two different things entirely, something the general male population…hell, even some of the female population….has yet to figure out. What I was listening to and what I was hearing were two different things entirely however and so I did what any good girlfriend would do (and I don’t think I need to remind anyone at this point that I’m a fucking rock star of a girlfriend….) which was, using language and a tone that she would be able to identify with and listen to, explain that while I understood where she was coming from, because boy did I ever, being removed from the situation myself gave me a clearer picture of things around her she might not necessarily be able to see. And while validating the fact that no one can really know how it is…or was… between two people except those two people, and understanding that to be a truth for myself as well, I nevertheless stood by the advice I was giving her.
Not because it was mine, I have been know to give absolute shit advice in the past to other dear friends who knew me well enough to tell me to go fuck myself and we were all a little better off because of it. I was standing behind my advice because it was damn good advice that somehow, through the grace of God, I had somehow knew to take from myself in the past and will be taking again in the future a plethora of times I’m sure. The idea of leaving a door opened but turning around to see what the rest of the room, or rooms, have to offer. To not give up or say goodbye to anything you don’t want to say goodbye to, but to stay away from the things that cause you heartache, grief, confusion and pain. By actively doing and taking part in things that make us happy. By accepting, and this part can be difficult, especially for us control freaks, that if it’s meant to happen it will. End of story. If it’s not meant to be, then it will not happen, and you can kill yourself, along with your self-esteem and dignity, as I did, trying to make it happen, but it won’t. And the funny thing that I discovered, and again, this is just me, but when I took a step back and a long hard look at what it was I had been fighting for, I realized…I didn’t really want it. I had thought I did….I could have walked over red-hot coals to prove how much I wanted it (hello?....... drama queen……..yeah this is Steph…..GET OVER IT…..) but in the end. I didn’t. Maybe you still will. And that will suck. But at least then you’ll know.
All this is assuming a whole helluva lot. All this is assuming that one actually believes in a higher power, destiny, fate, God, whatever you crazy kids are calling it these days, which is a big fucking assumption I know.
But your talking (reading) to one of the biggest control freaks this side of the Pacific Ocean, and all I know, was there was a point in my life where I gave it up. All of it. The control, the thinking I had control, the pretending that I was the one who knew best.
Take a good hard look at your track record. Then go look at yourself in the mirror and still tell your self that you’re the one who knows best. I fucking dare you.
As soon as I let it go, all of it, or as much of it as I could stomach anyway…I don’t know. Something happened. Like a weight I never knew was there was gone or something. And it wasn’t that I was filled with inner peace and tranquility or any of that garbage, it was just…. acceptance, I guess. That if it happened, then it was supposed to anyway and I’d figure the rest as I went along. And if it didn’t happen, whatever it was, then it wasn’t supposed to and though it might not feel that way now, in the end, I was better off for it.
I realize the 2 of you who still actually read this thing are sitting there going, ok, hippie, what ever makes you feel better about not taking responsibility for your own life and actions. Sit back, let the universe decide what’s up, shrug and kinda go with it. Nice life philosophy Steph. You fucking suck.
And to you I say, fair enough, if that’s what you think. You may be right. Who the hell knows?
What I do know, is after chatting with my dear, dear friend for another few minutes, agreeing and disagreeing on points and ideas and ways of thinking as we always do, as we always will, she was silent for a moment and asked me, “Since when did you get all philosophical and wise about this crap?” A valid question as I consider myself to be the opposite of philosophical…and wise for that matter. But relationships…relationships…in their infinite variety and the fluidity of their motions, in the subtle differences between each person that embodies the same problems we all seemingly have over and over and over and over and over…I never tire of discussing them. With anyone, in any context. And while my patience may shows signs of strain from time to time, I am only human after all, to those I love, to those I would wish for the ability to reach through time and space to touch them, hug them, to help lift that weight in any way I could, I will never tire.
I love you too much.
All of you. Every damn one of you.
Especially you. Especially you.