Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Desperate for Wrongness



This part of my life is what I like to call, "Desperate for Wrongness." I was not dressed to stand out, but the black on my nails, so atrociously stereotyped by my uncle on a previous night, was beginning to reflect the bastardly rebellion in my heart. I have had a lot to think about over the course of this summer, and I am sure more is to come for my sun-filled days have yet to find a close. Albert Einstein once defined "insanity" as "doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results." At this moment, I am a victim of self-injury: I have found myself wrenched into an unforgivable and disappointing trap and doing nothing to fight it or avoid it in the future. I continue to place myself in positions that only hurt me, and I hope to God, every time, when I return things will be different. I live with a willingness to grow for the better, while my friends stand on the other side and watch me pass like a slow-moving train, their feet buried in the sand. I want life to take me in an exciting direction and teach me its hardest and best lessons. The aforementioned would rather listen to what I have learned and pretend to understand it all than actually take the journey themselves; they believe if they sit still long enough it will simply fall into their laps.

Along with everything else I have learned, I am learning to let go of what holds me back. As much as it actually pains me to admit it, these friends of whom I considered closest to my heart are no longer the people I want permanently in my life. They look inwardly and use my person as only another number on their friend roster. They live by photographs rather than through them--the more they have, the more they can prove to others they lead an exciting life (though no one is there to sift through the film). And yet, despite all of this negativity, there is a tragic part of me that holds on tight to the friendship we once had. There is a part of me that defends them and will strike a match against my tongue before I speak misjudgingly of them. I have seen and heard enough unfriendly actions to teach me where to draw the line and how to be a better friend. They learn nothing, it seems, from their misfortunes, and rather, use those negative memories as a justification for future horrid actions against others. I may not always walk with my eyes as open as I would hope, but I know when I am wrong and try to make up for it in the end. I am worried a proper resolution may never come; speaking to a passive-aggressive personality is even less-accomplishing than speaking to a brick wall. This knowledge has made one failed attempt leave me with no reason to try again, and apprehensive of any reaction I may receive if I were to try harder.

I had spoken my piece for the afternoon--or the bulk of it rather--and fell to soaking in what Melody had to say. She is used to me giving her an earful, but she is just as capable of coherent speech as I. It was only fitting that, if I were to confide in her and speak my mind, I give her a chance to calm me and advise me on any future actions I may take to find some piece of closure. It seemed, she too had her own reserved feelings towards the situation, and I preserved the stance that while our thoughts share semblance, we are two different people with two different thoughts. If I am to ever follow through with any of my need for a satisfying ending, I would have to leave her completely out of it.

When we were both entering the years of teenager-y, I found myself in a tiff with another girl of whom we considered our "best friend." I was the friend who threw Melody into the conflict, and never realized it at the time. Melody, being the good friend she is, did not feel the need to assert this obvious misuse of her decency, but I know now asking her to pass along messages and pulling her to my side, ended with the girl turning on Melody as well, and us leaving the the girl in the lurch of her own self-pity. While this is all behind the three of us now, I cannot forget moments like it. I have to remind myself from time-to-time that while we may agree, my problems are my own and she needs not to carry my burdens unless she does so on her own accord. From which I would turn her if that was the case.

In the car, in the restaurant, in our quick trip to the store, and even on the ride to my house, we were either speaking of the problem, or I was still thinking hard about it. I am not sure if she was as distraught as I was, but we seemed to come to an understanding. Time away has not done even the slightest of good in this. As Melody put it, "It seems like it's nothing more than a hiatus, because when we get together again, nothing has changed. We pick right back up to being annoyed with each other," as well as what she left out: never moving on to something new over which to bond. They seem stuck on past problems or laughs rather than making new memories and moving on from worn issues. They are, as I have already stated, stuck in the same place as I try to move forward.

I would love to hear from the mouth of the sincerest of babes that all of this is in my head, that they still care and that I am being too dramatic. Maybe, just maybe, I am giving these people, who cannot see past the tips of their own noses to realize the consequences of their own actions, too much credit as being creative enough to produce what feels like a phasing-out. I am desperate to hear that I am wrong. I am used to hearing and believing that I am wrong. But even in my most fierce attempts to hold all of this together, and myself, I know in my heart this time I am not mistaken. As desperate as I may be, I am probably, sitting here, the most right I have ever been.

6 comments:

  1. Hey girl!

    I just saw your comment on my little piece of blog-dom. Yep. I'm here :) Just taking a brief hiatus. Now I know YOU'RE on blogger too. Sweet.

    This post is so eloquent. I understand your feeling of same old, day in and out, longing for an adventure, a different-ness.

    What separates us from many others is that we acknowledge this feeling and seek a remedy. I think a lot of people feel trapped (in old patterns of thought, in old relationships, etc.) but feel they can't get out. But they can; we all can. Unfortunately, it's not easy. But I'm learning (slooooowly) that those things worth doing never are.

    Cheers,
    Jen Chandler

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  2. Thanks for the comment, Jen! :D Definitely nice to have a familiar face on the blogging scene. Haha.

    I am glad you enjoyed the post. It takes some twisting of my own arm and lots of concerning thought before I can get anything out that's half-decent, but I usually enjoy the end result, and I don't just mean the writing in this post: my conclusion.

    I am going to gradually separate myself from the problem and begin again.

    But, if the anonymous friends mentioned were to ever stumble across this blog, I would hope they'd understand my love for them and fire to defend them will not fade. It is always there, but I need time and space.

    You are definitely right in saying those things that are worth the struggle are never easy. I'm okay with the hard. I'll be happier in the end.

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  3. girl you have such a way with words. thanks for writing this.

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  4. What a great post - you have such a way with words!!

    I am amazed that at your age you are able to step back and see things for what they are. Sometimes you have to grow and people will hold you back or you have just outgrown each other. You seem like such an amazing young girl and I wish you the best!!

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  5. I love you, Jenny, you're so great! And thank you.

    Really what it is is I spend too much time in my own head. I wish I wasn't that way, because when I do need to vent, I say so much, and sometimes too much, I think.

    Luckily I have friends who will listen, though.

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