I realize as I have gotten older, that perhaps my introspection gets the better of me. It seems to me that I have, all too often, allowed the possibility of vulnerability to keep me from moving forward. The act of writing in a public space opens one up to vulnerability, which is less and less comfortable a zone once you begin to get too personal. I live inside my head. Whole conversations happen inside my skull. If I'm caught doing it, and I seem to wear the process on my face, someone might ask, "what are you thinking?" Because I often wear migraine headaches on my face as well, I am often tempted to fall back on that as an answer. Typically, though, I feign some empty thought.
"Oh, I just have a lot on my mind."
"...just looking at this."
"Well thinking about what I need to do next."
What's the truth...and this is the funny part...I'm usually wondering about relationships.
Readers here might be able to understand why I might avoid giving up a truth. After all, it is possible that most people find themselves stuck in a loop and when snapped out of it by an intrusion, realize how absurd thoughts can become if left to their own devices. You heard me right, our thoughts have minds of their own.
But I digress.
Relationships. Just having them leaves you naked and afraid. When a relationship flags, you find yourself wondering so many things.
What did I do wrong? Did I say something hurtful? Was I being weird and uncomfortable again?
You find yourself becoming defensive in your own head. At some point, apathy sets in.
Communication, or lack thereof, seems to breed apathy. And trust me when I say, I know something about lack of communication. When you consider what I do for a living, my reluctance to talk doesn't make a lot of sense. I like to say I'm reticent, which is better than being outright antisocial. But you see, I'm just making excuses for the fact that I am notoriously bad at making small talk. This is a problem, since apparently, relationships of all kinds, depend upon some level of small talk. Pointless prattle between individuals who are working hard at passing the time and filling the air with words.
When one enters into a new friendship, there is so much to learn about that person; the conversation never seems to lag, right? Then, at some point, it does begin to lag. But why? Did the parties cease being curious about one another? Did engaging suddenly become too taxing?
My husband and I agree on this: Most relationships exist for a time to serve a purpose. Once that purpose has been fulfilled, much less effort is expended and the relationship stands to lose ground. Despite what I have heard to the contrary, a true friendship requires work and effort. In our technology-based, social networking society, work and effort seem diminished. I don't mean to say that timely relationships have no value. They have much value; some even save lives, and I appreciate each person whose path has crossed mine. I suppose, the hard part is the lament over lost friendships. Once a person is in my life with less of a presence or with less frequency, the person tends to become a work of fiction in a way. The memory of what was seems a little sweeter, making an evening without a friend a little more painful.
But the worst pain, is to invest your heart in a person; to really love a friend, only to lose them to a death. Giving of yourself as a friend, a daughter or son, a spouse, a parent, and then having to say an eternal goodbye can change you. It will change you. You cannot help this because a thread has been pulled from your fabric, and your pattern has been altered forever. You wonder why you ever endeavored to weave this person into your existence. You would never have to hurt, if only you hadn't loved.
This, of course, is not reality. Most of us need to experience the joy of relationships, even if it leaves us open to annoyance, pain, and vulnerability. In the end, the process is worth it. My mother always said that, at any moment, you can count your real friends on one hand, and that is being generous. She knew that all relationships come to an end. Indeed, she was my best friend. Alas, I could no more keep her with me than I could eat cheese from the moon.
With those rambling notions exposed for the world, I toast each of those past, present and future relationships. We may have quit on one another. We may have become too busy to stay in touch. One party, perhaps discarded by the other. Purpose fulfilled. Some endings not yet written. Some ties going strong. Others barely hanging on. Some lacking depth. Others hungry for more.
I never do how to wrap these things up. Let's leave it as this: If you have yourself to give to another human, even for the briefest moment, it may just be the meaningful gift that human needs at that moment. Who are we to deprive one another of love?
Peace
