::old posts circa Nov 2011 from a relationship that ended but I still appreciate the cuteness so here, you may also. All of this week will be these old posts just cause I wrote them and want to post them as a record for myself. Then (MAYBE) I’ll start posting new material. No Promises::
I know that in a lot of ways, this is going to sound naive. I think part of that is the point, that I am naive. At least in the sense that I am not jaded.
And for a large part, I would prefer to be jaded. Maybe. I think. I’m not sure.
Because jaded is safe. When you get hurt enough, it makes sense to grow a thicker skin, to become wary, to stop believing, to test more before trusting. To shut the hell up and get scrunchy eyed and not let people in so much.
Jaded, in the sense about which I’m ruminating, is not as messy. There are a lot of things associated with loving, but one of the under-discussed is that loving others is a MESSY MESSY business. It means accepting the faults of others. It means getting hurt again and again and again, because people are failers. Yes, i mean that word. They fail. It’s what they do. And even if somehow you could be sinless and not muck up their behavior with your own understanding of your worth, to love is not to just observe but to be invested in them. To mourn when they mourn, i think I heard that somewhere, once, maybe.
If I were Jaded, I couldn’t be the kind of counselor or friend or sister or daughter or, someday, lover that I want to be. But things could maybe be easier. I’m just saying, sometimes I’d choose closed of and unhurtable over ….
Oh, yeah, you have no idea what I’m talking about. Like usual…
I hate losing friends. Well I say that but really I have friends drift away and I don’t lose sleep over it. (Ha! Like there’s more sleep to lose.) But when you have a friendship and something breaks, and you know, you know it’s over (i mean maybe it’s not OVER and someday it will come back but…) and there’s nothing you can do and even if you could, why would you?
I feel like this has happened a lot to me. That makes sense in a purely numbers sense. I know most of my friends better than most people know their best friends. I get deep, fast. I could much more easily list for you the friends who WONT tell me their life stories and deepest secrets than those who will/have. So if most people only ever break up with one best friend, and I’ve broken up with ten, that makes sense. I could realistically estimate that I’ve had 10 times the amount of close, or intimate, friendships as your average person on the street. I don’t believe in average people but i THINK you probs get what I’m saying.
If you have an abundance of things that mean a lot to you
you have an abundance of opportunities for your heart to get hurt.
Y’all, despite the presence of many of peircings/tattoos, I am not a masochist. I don’t like feeling like I’m getting trampled all over. I’m not happy about people saying “I’m not afraid of hurting you because I know you’ll forgive me.” and more than I’m a fan of “It’s better to not know me at all because I’ll hurt you.”
But we all get hurt.
And no matter how I’d like things to go, there’s who I’ve been crafted into and who (i think) I’m supposed to be. And that’s a person who is soft, fleshy, easy to related to, who feels a lot and all the time and who, as a result of being all that in this fallen world, I’m open to a lot of hurt.
I’ve TRIED and from every worldly perspective it makes sense to be jaded, but I find that I am not made for this world.