NOSTALGIA IS A WEAPON

It is obviously unwise to make assumptions about the character of someone who you only met a few weeks ago, and with whom you have only spent a marginal amount of time. Yet his words and actions during our most recent encounter trouble me, the sudden change in his behavior inexplicable.

Suddenly I find myself wary of new creative input. Books, music, films: these have a tendency to attach themselves emotionally to a given time and place. It would be a shame to discover something new and wonderful only to have it permanently stained should this situation turn sour. The tarnish of disappointment has proven in the past to be rather difficult to remove.

While I’ve become fairly adept at projecting a mask of cynicism (enough, at least, to sometimes convince myself that I am a cynic), times like this make it painfully obvious that I am, in fact, an eternal optimist. I see the tiniest ray of sunshine peek through an overcast sky and reach for it with all my might, as though by will alone the clouds will disperse, despite all forecasts to the contrary.

Yes, I’m being deliberately vague regarding the precise details of the situation, perhaps as an exercise in displaying more restraint than my usual entries (which, given the ever-increasing number of people who have been/are becoming aware of my online pseudonym, might be prudent), but also as a method of preventing myself from passing judgment prematurely. Recent events should be taken into account when participating in or reviewing future meetings, but nothing is definitive yet.

For now I’m treading water. Better go find my *Caution!* cap before I head back out into the unknown…

Fragments of a tired mind. Here we go.

I wish I had a better sense of reading people. I wish I had a better sense to judge the overall climate of a situation. I have no idea whether I’m the one screwing things up, or whether other forces are involved. I’m too needy, too pushy. I don’t show enough interest. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. Proper communication is akin to running your finger along a fine edge; too far to either side and someone is bound to get cut. And yet the idea of a perfect middle seems fairly impossible to me, almost fictional. Can you ever really understand another person well enough to read, to predict, to act and speak with precision? Yet I have this kind of rapport with a few close friends, this connection wherein conversation, even in difficult circumstances, is effortless, free-flowing, and there are never any misconstrued lines, never any bruised egos.

I’ve recently come to the realization that, over the years, I’ve unfairly allocated many of my most despicable personality faults to a (perceived?) mental illness. What it really boils down to is my inability to take responsibility for my own life. All of my academic failures are a result of seeing the danger, knowing it was coming, and falling easily into the role of the helpless victim as it continued to approach steadily. I’m not certain I could have stopped it overtaking me, but I’m pretty damn sure that I could have cushioned the blow, or maybe even dodged it completely. It would have taken some serious work on my part, some fucking blood, sweat, and tears, and I think that’s the key: I think I’m afraid of true sacrifice. I’ll give and give until it begins to push against the edges of my comfort barrier, but once that surface tension starts to break I let go, I give up. Life, truly fucking living is going beyond what’s comfortable, pushing yourself to the max and knowing damn well that you’ve earned the satisfaction when you reach the end of the chosen path. Hard work yields generous rewards.

It’s also time to stop allowing others to influence my self-perception negatively. I am a person, something real, something whole, entirely independent from others’ thoughts and feelings regarding my place in the world. There have been people in the past that I’ve undeservedly given love and trust to, and there will undoubtedly be more somewhere down the line. I want someone special in my life, but goddamn it, I don’t need someone, at least not right now. Things, people, relationships: all take time, and a lot of trial and error. There is no single answer that is applicable across the spectrum. Quit trying to simplify what is, by nature, complicated. Answering “C” every time is likely to get you a few correct answers, but a whole hell of a lot of wrong ones, too.

Today’s the day to grow up, to start taking some initiative. Learn to acknowledge life’s disappointments without dwelling on them, to use the resulting pain as fuel to continue momentum forward. There will be blind spots, pitfalls that can’t be forseen. It’s okay to fall; the courage lies in picking yourself back up again. There is a life waiting for me at the end of this tunnel, and maybe I’m finally beginning to see the faintest echo of light up ahead. Take life as it comes, one day at a time. Some days will be baby steps, others will be confident strides. Either way, Keep. Moving. Forward.

And hey, while you’re at it, don’t forget to let the people you love know how important they are.

(Psst, you guys! Thanks for being there. Love ya’ll more than I’ll ever be able to tell you.)

Oh no there you go
Looked away and missed the show
How much wasted time
Will you survive?
Oh yeah fooled again
I don’t know how and I don’t know when
Not much else to blame
But wishful thinking

-Duncan Sheik