Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Personal Reflection
I stayed up late last night reflecting on life.
We spend so much time battling the bad stuff in life, trying not to let it in, and yet I think we remember it more. I know I remember it more.
Take my first love. After we split up and I ended up joining her at Pitt, I couldn't even say her name when she wasn't around. Stories involving us always started out "One time, with my last girlfriend..." or "My friend and I...". When people asked how the two of us met, I was always quick to answer "We ran cross country together in high school" before she could respond with "We dated."
Last night, I kept spinning my wheels over and over. I remember the way she'd talk when she was trying to make a point -- Quietly, deliberately. People would shut up in mid sentence to hear what she was saying. I remember how we were both the easily excitable type. We'd get hyper and start talking and gesticulating really fast. Our voices would rise in Pitch. Our eyes would get big. My words can't do it justice. Its one of those quirks of a person you've got to see for yourself, but believe me, it was adorable.
I wonder if she still does that. I know I do. Outside of work right now, I only talk to 1-2 people once a week.
I can remember little things, like how her eyes would shimmer when I'd surprise her with flowers, or how she'd shriek if I hit with a snowball.
But only if I try hard enough. What I can remember is different from what I remember the most -- what takes no effort to recall.
I remember the first and only party I went to that she threw (that I was invited to.) She was recently single, and I was recently dumped. All the guys there eye'd her up. Joked about what they would do if they had the chance. I sat there, gripping the chair, knowing it'd make no difference if I smashed anyone's head open to feast on the goo inside. There was no point, I had feelings that were obsolete: I was past tense, last place, and chopped liver. And I wasn't used to it at all.
I remember living in a frat house the summer of my freshmen year. Joining ranks with some conformist assholes was a big strech for me, but living with them over the summer was alright. I remember when she stopped by, but wouldn't set one foot inside. How her shoulders were braced the whole time, like she was giving someone bad news.
The painful memories are so vivid, and the happy ones so fuzzy, it makes feel like each set of experiences were actually with two different people. In reality, I may not be far from the mark. We all change so much throughout the years.
I think what I'm trying to say is that I've seen enough people go bad over time, that I'm cynical now that I just expect decline. I expect one's self involvement to increase, one's delusions of greatness to grow without bound. One's problematic self-abuse to progress to new destructive heights. Just bringing up the subject brings to mind "before" and "after" college pictures of Jon and Marilyn. Two twisted peas in one horrible, horrible pod.
I guess I'm wondering the same thing about my first ex as I am about myself: Are you still good? End of the day, gun to your head, do you do the right thing and are you happy doing it?
The summer of my sophomore year I ended up in my hometown, living with three crazy 21 year olds, [semi-bitterly] working my old job as Help Desk. I got talked into doing Community Theatre. I met a girl I had a summer fling with, Melissa. Melissa was captial-C Crazy and in the end it pretty much turned out to be a regrettable relationship, but I took one moment from it. Once at her place, before anything spun out of control -- it was still that shiney, new, exploratory phase of the relationship before any emotional baggage blew away the surreality of it.
She looked me over and then looked right at me: "You're amazing. I wonder what you're going to be like in 5 years?"
What am I going to be like?
Am I too close to the problem to see that I've been slowly going bad?
You've always said, "Those who try to make up for lost living end up living lost."
Could you have been lost this whole time, only to realize you didn't care until now?
Reflection's a powerful thing. It can function as a mirror to see inside ourselves. The trick is not to get caught up within your vanities and see what's really good, what's really bad, and what you can do better.
I hope my vanities haven't left me blind.
We spend so much time battling the bad stuff in life, trying not to let it in, and yet I think we remember it more. I know I remember it more.
Take my first love. After we split up and I ended up joining her at Pitt, I couldn't even say her name when she wasn't around. Stories involving us always started out "One time, with my last girlfriend..." or "My friend and I...". When people asked how the two of us met, I was always quick to answer "We ran cross country together in high school" before she could respond with "We dated."
Last night, I kept spinning my wheels over and over. I remember the way she'd talk when she was trying to make a point -- Quietly, deliberately. People would shut up in mid sentence to hear what she was saying. I remember how we were both the easily excitable type. We'd get hyper and start talking and gesticulating really fast. Our voices would rise in Pitch. Our eyes would get big. My words can't do it justice. Its one of those quirks of a person you've got to see for yourself, but believe me, it was adorable.
I wonder if she still does that. I know I do. Outside of work right now, I only talk to 1-2 people once a week.
I can remember little things, like how her eyes would shimmer when I'd surprise her with flowers, or how she'd shriek if I hit with a snowball.
But only if I try hard enough. What I can remember is different from what I remember the most -- what takes no effort to recall.
I remember the first and only party I went to that she threw (that I was invited to.) She was recently single, and I was recently dumped. All the guys there eye'd her up. Joked about what they would do if they had the chance. I sat there, gripping the chair, knowing it'd make no difference if I smashed anyone's head open to feast on the goo inside. There was no point, I had feelings that were obsolete: I was past tense, last place, and chopped liver. And I wasn't used to it at all.
I remember living in a frat house the summer of my freshmen year. Joining ranks with some conformist assholes was a big strech for me, but living with them over the summer was alright. I remember when she stopped by, but wouldn't set one foot inside. How her shoulders were braced the whole time, like she was giving someone bad news.
The painful memories are so vivid, and the happy ones so fuzzy, it makes feel like each set of experiences were actually with two different people. In reality, I may not be far from the mark. We all change so much throughout the years.
I think what I'm trying to say is that I've seen enough people go bad over time, that I'm cynical now that I just expect decline. I expect one's self involvement to increase, one's delusions of greatness to grow without bound. One's problematic self-abuse to progress to new destructive heights. Just bringing up the subject brings to mind "before" and "after" college pictures of Jon and Marilyn. Two twisted peas in one horrible, horrible pod.
I guess I'm wondering the same thing about my first ex as I am about myself: Are you still good? End of the day, gun to your head, do you do the right thing and are you happy doing it?
The summer of my sophomore year I ended up in my hometown, living with three crazy 21 year olds, [semi-bitterly] working my old job as Help Desk. I got talked into doing Community Theatre. I met a girl I had a summer fling with, Melissa. Melissa was captial-C Crazy and in the end it pretty much turned out to be a regrettable relationship, but I took one moment from it. Once at her place, before anything spun out of control -- it was still that shiney, new, exploratory phase of the relationship before any emotional baggage blew away the surreality of it.
She looked me over and then looked right at me: "You're amazing. I wonder what you're going to be like in 5 years?"
What am I going to be like?
Am I too close to the problem to see that I've been slowly going bad?
You've always said, "Those who try to make up for lost living end up living lost."
Could you have been lost this whole time, only to realize you didn't care until now?
Reflection's a powerful thing. It can function as a mirror to see inside ourselves. The trick is not to get caught up within your vanities and see what's really good, what's really bad, and what you can do better.
I hope my vanities haven't left me blind.
