I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time looking in the rear-view mirror lately. I suppose I could chalk it up to immersing myself in a whole lot of old comic books recently for two major projects I’m working on, and one of the characters spends a lot of time dealing with past hurts and trying to balance karmic scales– but that’s not quite it either.
It’s having lots of people coming back into my life at strange times, and lots of old ghosts that come along for the ride. It’s the sound of a voice, or the smell of old paper, or the image of an old ad– and it triggers cascades of memories.
(You’ll forgive me if I’m a touch evasive in the particulars. It’s just that this is an open publication, where anybody can be reading what I’m writing and a number of things shouldn’t be associated with any one person, lest bigger problems emerge– the people involved already have big problems of their own. So I will hem and haw, or occassionally tell outright fabrications here in order to get to a larger truth.)
Someone told me once upon a time that I seem to make a better friend than lover*. (* Not in the technical sense, mind you; I understand my technique is quite exemplary, capable of melting icebergs, healing the sick, perverting the well, and curing virginity.) I think, upon reflection, I know why that was said to me now.
It’s that the passion cools. For me, it almost has to– not out of lack of desire, but of necessity. With unchecked passion, I tend to do dumb and stupid things. Greedy things. Mad things. Obsessive things. If I let my passions go completely untempered, it will go wild and damage myself and those around me.
So I temper it. With love, with intellect, with self-sacrifice and self-restraint. And usually, it makes me a better person, if occasionally a tad aloof and superficial.
It’s also worthy to note that when my friends are messed with, a lot of that goes out the window, and then trust me, I am not a person you want on your bad side.
Why do I bring all of this up? Because I’ve just had the occasion to sit on a metaphorical grenade, to take a few in the chest to help someone who was hurting, to help carry a load that’s too big for one to carry alone, and in one case, to take the blame for one thing to cover for someone else.
And through it all, I remain steadfast to all involved, as best as I can. Because I know, deep down, that they remain steadfast to me, as best as they can.
But some days, it hurts. And some days, I don’t feel much of anything. But I go on, the best I can. As do they. As do you.
My first thought was about your technique and that it sounds like something I’d like to try. Sounds reality shattering, at the least. But as I read on it sounds as though you are having a very difficult time right now. I don’t know if it helps, but some of us really appreciate what you do for PAD’s blog, which is why I read yours whenever you post. I may not comment often enough, but, then again, I don’t always have something to say. Anyway, thanks for taking the time to help enrich the lives of PAD’s fans. I hope that whatever is getting you down turns around soon.
Karen
wow! this is the longest post you’ve made so far
IIRC. and the last 3 paragraphs are like poem somehow. and whatever KAREN said, same here. THANKS A LOT.
I think this is the most personal thing I’ve ever seen you write on this site. I hope that you find the answers to all your questions and that your friends appreciate what you are trying to do for them. I know that I do.
Remember that objects in the rear view mirror are closer than they appear:)
UptownGirl