A corpse-looking man told me today, through his black gums and rotting teeth, “the worst line ever written was ‘you complete me’. The best came from Thoreau who said, ‘Most men lead lives of quiet desperation’. It is through that desperation that individuals learn they must complete themselves.” A funny little monologue for my ears to hear as I have found myself lost and broken…in need of being “completed”.
It seems to be one of those days where only standing in the rain will make me feel better.
Beyond the usual uppers and downers I have counted on in the past to keep me trudging through my days, it’s several words between quotation marks that help keep my wings flapping.
“We loved with a love that was more than love” - Edgar Allen Poe
“There’s too much beauty to quit” - from the movie “Stay”
“The waiting is the hardest part” - Tom Petty
During trying times people always seem to veer toward the same cliché’s to help others out. One of the most common, which I have heard 3 times already today is, “It’ll all work out over time”. The problem is, to avoid disappointing you, they never finish the rest of the phrase, “It’ll all work out over time, the way it’s supposed to work out”….and we all know we WANT it to say, “It’ll all work out over time, just the way you hoped.” But I guess that’s too much romanticism to be true.
It’s sad, I cannot even look into a mirror for more that 10 seconds without being utterly disgusted with myself, both inside and out. These regrets I have been holding on to have turned into parasites that are destroying my body. The sole cure is forgiveness and acceptance of myself and to listen to everyone else who tells me that I am indeed a beautiful person. Right now though, I’m pretty sure all of those people are on drugs. Or they are retarded blind. Or maybe, I’m really not that bad. Maybe we all really do make mistakes. Maybe we all are a bit crazy. And maybe, there is someone out there who will love us for who we were and are, and we should just let them.
Sometimes it’s good not to forget, other times, it’s torture. Without the rain there is no rainbow. Without the pain, there is no true joy.
I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what feels completely right. Maybe it doesn’t have to be completely right, and maybe that’s not even possible.
But alas, as always, it is the way it is and there’s nothing I can do about it. Whatever will be will be. Que sera, sera. Cliché’s mask nothing. I hate them. I need to stop asking so many questions. I need to be able to give up some control. My metaphorical knuckles are always white, clenched tight with anxiety. I need to let go, only then will I see. When I’m not looking, I’m sure I will find it. At times I have felt close, and now, my heart and mind are thinking more deeply, considering all possibilities and viewpoints and things are happening. Maybe I am closer to my epiphany than I thought. Stop worrying. Stop making up all possible outcomes. I’ve thought about and prepared myself for all of them already anyway. More “preparation” is NOT going to help. But relaxation will. And sadly I have to remind myself that relaxation does not equal day dreaming…especially not daydreams that something amazing will happen and all my troubles will fade. Even more sadly, relaxation does not equal sleeping the day away and hiding under the covers waking up only to wipe away tears.
Life really can’t be that bad can it? No. “There’s too much beauty to quit”, remember? And if I’m sick over the fear of the loss of love, if it’s true love, if it’s fate or destiny, or a match, or if “We loved with a love that was more than love”, then time can do no harm. It’s always nice to have answers. It would be even nicer sometimes, to know the future. To know the outcomes of each possible decision. But life wouldn’t be interesting and we would learn nothing and cease to develop into the wonderful person that might have been. It’s all about time. It’s all about waiting. And, “The waiting is the hardest part.”
Sweet Dreams,
Me
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