I like unusual boys. how tragic. and sometimes I think I'm just crazy. but I must not be. because if I were crazy, you might want me. But no. I lack that dysfunctional intrigue, and I actually do the work to let go of my issues so I might have happy functional relationships, so I'm not quite interesting enough. not sexy enough. for you. But you did allow me to think I was. You did watch as you were leading. ...and misleading.
and its hard for me to believe you were unaware when I know I wear my heart on my sleeve and I know you felt it beat harder when we were close. and we were very close.
Flirting is innocent but we should all be considerate of the fragile human heart and signals we send. mixed signals. It can be cruel. Unusual, yes. interesting, charming, intoxicating, yes. but also cruel. So maybe the challenge for me is to spot the man who is unusual but also kind. True kindness, most unusual itself. People don't always know if or when they're being cruel and yet the truth remains.
but I too have been cruel. unknowingly. to a close friend. I was floating, buzzing, whirling around in my little make believe world and two months passed in a blink. and she starred in four shows. and she turned 26. and she called me several times. and I thought of her often but it's not enough just to think. I let her down. I know I'll make it up to her with time, but at the moment, there's a pang in my chest. I never meant to hurt you dear friend. but I can hear it in your voice. and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You deserved my time and energy.
We walk around sometimes with our heads held high thinking we have things all figured out. when in fact, I've been a terrible friend. and the unusual boy likes a different girl.
and I always forget...
I have a man who cares about me. he appears out of thin air when I most need the reminder, and when I least expect it. when and only when. and our relationship doesn't really fit words. One year ago if you would have taken a snapshot my life was so very different. I was falling, stumbling, diving heart first into love. and my career was theatre. and it was going well. and my family was oblivious and virtually untouched by the weight of suffering. and in what seemed like one moment, it vanished before my eyes. and there stood John. as he did tonight. In general, I rarely accept the kind of comfort he provides. I rarely allow myself to give in. but he does understand. quite deeply in fact. and he's good to his girlfriend. and I wouldn't have it any other way.
I don't long for Alan. I'm thankful to be rid of him. It wasn't right. but tonight I am reminded that still, scattered around my space and happiness, the pain of the wound persists. in my hips. in my lungs. the pit of my stomach, and right between my eyes. I can touch it.
We can never truly know each others' thoughts. So it is our responsibility, if we are to be kind, to take care in our words and actions. to be aware of our tendency, our power, our ability, to manipulate, to imply, to mislead, and then to proceed with compassion. To be kind, to be compassionate, honest, transparent, is not necessarily to be nice. or even selfless. What have I learned? Well I'm still asking. every day. I don't suppose I'll ever really have an answer. but the important thing is the asking. I'm tempted to say that I've learned to never love. to never trust. and sometimes I do feel that way. but settling for that answer would be unfortunate indeed.
I've been so free from this, and how unfair. the smallest trigger brought me back to that familiar gloom. tonight. I told John about things lately, and what is my deal. and he said simply, gently, "Mindy. He wanted to marry you... and he left." and something clicked. it rushed through my veins. my arms. my heart. and sitting in the car on Ashland and Foster I cried. and I let John hold me.
and now we're well into Tuesday. and I'm thankful to be alone. somber and pensive, but content. Rest is important.
