I was looking for something to write about tonight. I sat on the floor of my closet going through journals from high school, college, after college looking for something poignant to post. You know, like the greatest hits of yesterday and today! Alright, I was feeling lazy, shut up.
You know what that archaelogical dig left me with instead? It left me with a distinct feeling of, "Man, I almost got it so many times. What the fuck?" According to my journals, I almost figured out how to be who I am at least 9 times in the last 27 years. I knew it, I wrote about it, then I got tangled up in these fantasy scenarios where I'd be on a beach somewhere all tan and perfect and some similarly tan and perfect guy would come along we would recognize our sychronized perfecticity and we'd stroll off toward the horizon basking in our perfectness in a dusky dream montage. [eyeroll] Okay, so I used to be a rabid fan of unrealistic romance, so sue me. geez.
Anyway, there were so many times I was alone just long enough to have a vision for myself and then nothing would do but I had to go fall head over heels for somebody. Sometimes I made myself think whoever I fell for was the way to get to my vision. I know how dumb it sounds to even type that out loud but mother-of-love, that's what I convinced myself at the time. [deep breath] Scares the shit out of me that I was about ready to do that again with stupid online dating a few months ago. Have I learned nothing?! Nothing in my entire adult life? I can't even give myself one chance to follow through on a plan without being boy crazy? Gahd...I could kick myself sometimes.
Maybe I've turned a corner. Maybe my failed January experience with Match was a test of my self-respect? Come on, give me something here...yeah? I didn't hurl myself into that particular abyss this time around. I stared into it. It stared back into me. And I cancelled my subscription.
All hope is not lost. I'm just busy right now. That abyss is going to have to hold on a sec.
2 comments:
You're being too hard on yourself. If we all carried out the plan for what we KNOW we should do, we would all be thin, fit, have perfectly flossed teeth, and listen to language tapes in the car so we could die knowing 10 languages or something. Think of all the out of work therapists, dental hygienists and lipo doctors there would.
I hear you. It's not so much about the "outside" perfect as that mysterious feeling of getting to know and being who you were meant to be.
Constant process. Ever changing and always the same.
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