“It’s as if we live our lives a little bit of a comedian
each time those false relationships stay with us.”
Now that I’ve been doing this for a few months – has it been three months yet? – I realized that there’s responsibility in the words we put out, taking claim and ownership for our thoughts and especially more so when we put them out to the world like I do here through this blog; likewise my sister, with her old blog.
I bring this up because lately I’ve taken to pointing out to her, which ones I’ve featured here, only to have her respond with “I would’ve written this differently today” or, “Ha, I remember writing that — to think I wrote this once upon a time ago, gawd.” It’s interesting that she responded that way and more than once too, because here I am finding comfort in her words, only for the writer herself to wish she never wrote them or had written them differently.
Still, what I love most is how much a specific moment is encapsulated in each entry. I often feel mortified and embarrassed over my old write-ups (hence turning them private over time) so I totally understand where she’s coming from, but at the same time, I take comfort over the fact that I’ve got this stash – evidence – of my foolish, younger days. It’s embarrassing like crazy yup, but you’ve got to have something to look back upon to know how far you’ve come, you know?
For now, our weekly dose of The Onionsoul Edition continues. Her words may not live on in her heart anymore …that’s okay — I’ll let them live through mine and yours. This week I’m going back in time to March 14, 2012, primarily because I love the central idea she’s brought forth here — everybody who drops by, teaches.
Out with my brother-in-law and swapping relationship stories, I was suddenly put back into perspectives. He called these people-of-the-moment ‘phases’; just mere stages of preparation prior to bumping into “the one” — but I didn’t like the way it sounded. Phases meant that people were things you graduate from after a certain period of time, and it was never like that with me, because I never truly forget anyone — I remember details so well, the ones who passed never really left me. How could I? In that moment I couldn’t imagine that that person wasn’t right, because each time we spoke, the way we laughed and teased, the things we were sure about when we felt sure of them — who would’ve known two, three months even years down the road we really weren’t meant to be? That there really was someone else for us, someone we’ve yet to meet or notice, someone who probably felt the same way about someone else in that moment not knowing they too weren’t meant to be?
I don’t know why tonight makes me sad. It’s as if we live our lives a little bit of a comedian each time those false relationships stay with us. We were so hopeful with each other we shared expectations that were only going to disappoint us; we exchanged hopes that would simply crush us in the end, and we confided in each other things that mattered to us but one that would become one of those sad things we’d remember doing as we live through the beginnings of our post-endings. It’s heartbreaking the way people can go from daily updates one day to mere references the next; how you sometimes find yourself astonished sitting facing another face in a familiar setting, and suddenly wondering how the last was doing, wherever he was in the world, but who the hell was he?
But it is true that everybody who drops by, teaches. The way jack challenged the concept of my youthful idealism, or how six challenged my principles, and then sandwiches challenged the very curious crystallization of jack — I know this is one of the ways girls become women, and boys into men; this is a very intricate divine planning of Everydays prior to that One Day, but it feels like growing wisdom teeth every time. It’s forever, and it fucking hurts.
— Pinknerd |
#1004. My Outsides are Cool, My Insides are Blue.