Thursday, 23 February 2017

This Post Makes No Sense


As a person, the most difficult thing to work with, the most complex thing to understand, the most mysterious riddle to spend one's life hopelessly trying to solve… is another person.

I've also found that the closer I get to another person, the more difficult I find the experience, but it's not because the person I'm close to becomes somehow more difficult to work with due to some kind of "familiarity breeds contempt" principle, but more because the necessity to accomplish the impossible with that person becomes ever more pressing the closer we become.

But this closeness breeds a great deal of frustration as we misunderstand and are misunderstood over and over again.  We're offended, insulted, disrespected, and forgotten about over and over again, and all of it is because of this incredible drive to fully work with, understand, and solve the riddle for, each other.  This is an impossible task, which, as a result of its constant failure, causes no end of heartache, frustration, misdirected anger, and the fog of loneliness.



And yet: friendships happen.  Romance happens.  Marriages happen.  People do crazy things – like fall in love – and get hurt, sometimes deeply, by the very same people we've made ourselves vulnerable to.

Why?

I'd rather be abused by a warm body than be locked inside my frozen loneliness.  That's why.

But opening my soul to a person who is so easily frustrated and offended by my inability to understand him is terrifying.  What if he finds me to be inadequate?  What if I don't measure up to whatever I'm supposed to be according to all the commercials on TV filled with gorgeous, happy people with perfect lives thanks to that miracle shampoo that doesn't seem to give me the same shine they have?



But as terrifying as it might be to show my actual soul to him, with its broken, scared-to-death, and desperate need to be loved, it is just as scary to imagine my life so intimately tied to another person.

You see, there are things about my life right now that I love.  I can spend my money the way I want.  I can go out on the town if I want.  I can seek out casual companionship to fulfill needs without having to try to understand someone deeply.

But there are things about my life right now that I hate.  The night is dark and long, and my bed feels so empty when I curl up under the covers.  When I cry, I cry alone.  When the world is big and I am small, I can only bury my face in my arms and crouch down behind my door to pretend it's all going to be OK.

I want unconditional love.  But I want my freedom.  There doesn't seem to be a way to have both.

I'll get a dog.


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