― T.H. White, Alfred Hitchcock Presents: Stories That Scared Even Me
Precisely. Life would be so much easier, so much simpler, if I just didn't have to worry about these things. But, you know what? Life's not easy. Life's not simple. No matter how much I wish I didn't have to feel or see the beautiful things, no matter how much I'd rather just duck my head and stick to the things I know I can accomplish... I wake up in the morning, and Life reminds me, "Hey. You're human. You're gonna feel. You're gonna fear. Because you're human. And you're alive. So what're you gonna do about it?"
Honestly, I don't know. I don't have the slightest idea, because there's no guide book, no manual for this. No one's ever written a book on "how to live the right way" or "how to feel properly"... Because everyone's different.. That, or it's just never been done. The prideful part of me always screams at me to buck up and be brave. Be true. This part of me is reckless, clamoring to just go for it, just take the risk and see what happens. Another part of me suggests caution. Caution then mutates into hesitation, which gives way to doubt and the cycle continues. Doubt and hesitate, doubt and hesitate.
A third part of me just laughs and says, "Lynx. You're screwed. Run for it."
Sometimes I think the coward in me is the smartest side of myself. And also the bravest. Sometimes, I feel like an act of cowardice, running away, takes more grit and bravery than sticking around to see what happens. Sometimes it's easier to say, "Heeey, I'm on a roll, let's bet again and maybe I'll win," than it is to say, "Heey, I'm on a roll, but momentum only lasts so long." Er. Do I have that backwards? Because a lot of people would say, "Nothing wagered, nothing gained." I think they forget the other side of that coin: "Too much wagered, too much lost."
There are, I suppose, two different kinds of bravery. The first is the kind that people typically recognize; the kind that sticks it out and takes the risk and doesn't back down. The second is the quiet kind. This bravery stays quiet and walks away, having decided that it's better to not know at all than to suffer. I don't know which one is smarter. Or if they're both moronic. I don't know a lot of things. But I do know that I'm terrified.
If I jump, if I decide to let go and fall... How hard will I hit if there's nothing there to catch me?
If I run, if I say "fucking screw it"... How much time will I waste contemplating the phrase "what if"?
And if I do nothing... How long until I lose the rest of my sanity, do something stupid, and end up with less than I started with?
I know me. I'm not confident with much. I'm really not confident with feelings. I can sort out other people no problem, but me... My brain and my heart are too interconnected in this jumbled mess for me to even begin to make sense of it all. It's all tangled together in this giant, messy knot.
So what do I do? I think. I think hard. What am I wishing for? Is it realistic?
That always gets me. Is it realistic? Well I don't bloody know, do I? If I did, there wouldn't be a problem, because if it was realistic, I'd have gone for it already; and if it wasn't, well that'd be the end of it!
And then I have an "Aha!" moment. Transference. Displacement. Mental mutation. That last one sounds a bit creepy, but it's also the best description of the three. This is my Three Step Solution to Heartsickness Which May or May Not Be Just Another Form of Running Like Hell.
Step One: Admit it.
Check.
Step Two: Express it.
Twelve line poem? Check.
Step Three: Turn it into something else.
This one takes time and diligence, and is also where the "running like hell" bit comes in. The last person I loved, I still love. But not in that way. Practice lying to yourself in the mirror and remember to smile (smiling makes it hurt less). Be decisive. Whenever the thought, "but what if" enters your mind, snuff it out. Say, "No. This is how it is."
Keep. Your. Distance. It's hard to not like people when they're always charming you, so make yourself tougher to charm.
.... I just came to the awkward realization that I never take my own advice, especially when it sucks. What kind of sick masochist is going to tolerate a giant "WHAT IF" hanging over their head for an indefinite amount of time? And if, as it so often goes, this person is a friend and you distance yourself from them... What does that say of you, where the friendship is concerned?
THE REAL STEP THREE: ??? I don't bloody know. Choose something, and stand by your decision.
I have written all of this and am no closer to an answer than I was an hour ago. I may have even just confused myself more.
Haha. Only me.
I have become an expert in talking myself in circles.
Cheers,
Lynx
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