I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together again and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is broken is broken -- and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived.
and...
"What we need to know about loving is no great mystery. We all know what constitutes loving behavior; we need but act upon it, not continually question it. Over-analysis often confuses the issue and in the end brings us no closer to insight. We sometimes become too busy classifying, separating, and examining, to remember that love is easy. It's we who make it complicated." - Leo F. Buscaglia
and..
Only those who avoid love can avoid grief. The point is to learn from grief and remain vulnerable to love.
and...
"I do not believe that sheer suffering teaches. If suffering alone taught, all the world would be wise, since everyone suffers. To suffering must be added mourning, understanding, patience, love, openness and the willingness to remain vulnerable."
I wrote once that I would never open myself up to feel that disappointment and pain again. I wrote not about a heartbreak, but about my father. I talk about him so stoically now. Years later, I have succeeded in becoming emotionally removed from the situation. Most situations that involve a loss. I can talk about him, but I don't feel him. It must be some sort of survival instinct that kicked in with me; I won't let myself grieve or feel sadness. My mother's words after the attack ring in my ears, "You can either choose to move forward or choose to be a victim." I remember refusing to crack emotionally under the pressure. I'll never forget the frustration I felt in front of a classroom, trying to control my shaking voice. I wondered how long my voice would shake when I spoke, so weak and intimidated. Faces of 17 year olds, staring at you, thinking you're just nervous to be in front of them. I wish it would have been that easy. I always feel this pressure that it is unacceptable to not just magically be okay. There is no cure all for wounds, particularly wounds of the heart. Sometimes in life it seems as if we are just left to put ointment on our scars when we're alone, and in public we just cover them up as if it never happened. A secret healing process no one talks about.
I see other people in pain and I just want them to feel better. Unfortunately, I think that I do that by trying to be strong for them--as if I can't mourn a loss with them because I want them to feel as if things are okay. It's so hard to explain. I'm just not sure when this transition happened. Maybe it came out of frustration that life never stopped when I needed that pause. My friends had things going on in their own lives that put my personal struggles on the back burner (as is true with life in general). I guess I didn't want to get life behind, as if staying present in that sadness kept me from leaving it in the past. In the past, where I so desperately wanted it to be. Away from me.
I've been dating someone and I realized that I've never exposed my "weaker" side. Not once. I didn't fumble when I answered their questions about my father, I didn't cry when I talked about the attack. I don't want anyone to see me...to really see me, unless they are really going to stay with me. I shared so much of myself with Jeff and Jason--and it opened me up to criticism and discomfort. With Jeff, at the end I didn't feel as if there was room for two wounded people..and with Jason, he couldn't understand my wounds. Eric actually just wiped his hands clean of me and my "stuff." You can't really reveal yourself as a total mess when you're beginning to date. The truth is, i'm not a total mess, but life hurts sometimes. The fact that I have no, zero, relationship with my Dad after three years is just sad. I've moved on and I'm okay, but he's not in my life. A whole history of my life is gone now. Christmas mornings, learning how to drive a car, dinner with my Nanny, driving to the lake, camping, going to Oakland A's games.
Relief--the memories, and that gnawing ache. I'm not actually a robot, I'm just...reinforced and hiding.
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