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Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Caution: filter missing

     I've never been once to mince words. Many, many who know me know I am quick of wit and sharp of tongue. I'm seriously thinking about getting a tattoo on my forehead that says "caution: missing filter. Engage in conversation at your own risk". How many of you have ever said you'd rather kill yourself than deal with another snow day? Did people rip you a new one or judge you because you are being offensive to those who have lost someone to suicide? What about being so angry you said you wanted to kill someone? Did the police break down your door and arrest you?

Probably not.

     I don't say things with excessive vitriol. What I will do is be honest. Sometimes brutally so. Not that this is an excuse, but if you don't want to hear my honest answer to a question, don't ask. I find that this is happening a lot more since B died. Yeah, I say died.

Not passed away.
Not in a better place.
Not gone.

     I've been told that my honesty is a rather jarring concept. Everyone is so PC about death and things that we don't like to confront, even when it is right in our faces. My view is that life is too damn short to not say what you think or feel. You never know when the time you talk to someone will be the last time. I relive my last conversations with B in my head all the time. It never brings me comfort. There are always things I wish I could have said.

I didn't mean it.
I can't wait to see you.
I wish you were here.
I love you.
I'm sorry.

Always be honest. In the immortal words of Dr. Seuss:  "Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind".

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Distance makes the heart grow fonder?

Lately, I have been ruminating on the phrase "distance makes the heart grow fonder". I call bullshit. In what universe is this even remotely true? In my personal experience, distance...real or imagined, physical or emotional, leads to nothing but disappointment when it comes to matters of the heart.  B's death is a prime example of this. He is about as far away physically as one can be. Ashes in a box in the dirt. Emotionally, the distance is unfathomable. Do I really deign to believe that his spirit is somewhere out there growing fonder of me the longer it isn't with me? I know my heart sure as hell isn't  growing fonder.

Sad? Yes.
Bitter? A bit.
Broken? Absolutely.
Irreparable? Jury's still out.

I see this distance affecting me in all sorts of different ways. I now put distance between myself and my friends. Myself and my family. Myself and new people that I meet. Myself and potential romantic interests. I distance myself because I don't think I can take any more hurt if I lose someone close. I distance myself because I can't bear rejection. I distance myself because of all of the what ifs. My walls are there for a reason, and it seems like as soon as someone starts to chip away at them just enough to let the light break through, they run away. I'm not sure if it is because there is no light shining from inside or if the monsters that are hidden behind the walls are so scary that even brave souls don't want to venture in, but for whatever reason I keep having to repair the holes. With each repair the walls get a little bigger and a little harder to smash. I'm afraid pretty soon the distance they create will be insurmountable.