Life. Is. So. Interesting.
You never – truly NEVER – know with whom you will end up one day talking, sharing secrets and the stuff of your soul and heart. And, too – and far worse – you never – HORRIFYINGLY never – know who will disappear from that role, walking away with the pieces of heart and soul you gave freely, leaving this gaping, weeping, keening ache of void and that awful, torturous “WHY DID YOU AND HOW COULD YOU AND WHAT DID I DO?”
I’ve written about this before; The Ethics of Friendship and being thrown under the bus, becoming a speed bump (and click here to read that) but recovery from the flattening experience is a process, an ongoing thing. And I’m still in it.
I wonder to myself how it is that someone who has loved you deeply, that someone with whom you have had a true and unique connection, that someone with whom you have learned about love, can live – day to day – having betrayed the truth and trust of that relationship by twisting and distorting its story into something other; how they can live in the denial of its impact and Light; how they can manage to trust themselves or another to love again when they have shattered trust, truth, and emotional integrity having actively destroyed another. All the justification in the world – mendacity and self-deception – can’t undo the truth of the Light and Love that was; so how do they manage, day after day, to know how they have damaged another, how they are living in a lie, how they have compromised and made dishonest the foundation of who and what they are; and live with themselves?
It is a curious thing to me. And I wish I could either understand it or forget it. I don’t know that I can do one without the other. So, distractions ….
Here is a beautiful thing that is the opposite of such betrayals of love and trusts; when someone shares with you (or the world) a piece of their emotional truth, as does Broadway actor, Bobby Steggert, here (CLICK THIS) in this thoughtful, articulate, beautifully composed piece. It makes me proud to live in the town from which he came.
Deep thinking. Introspection. Growing and learning. Good things. And many such thoughts and insights have come to me from books, which I love. I was horrified today to discover that I own only one of the Long List nominees for the National Book Award Fiction Finalists (click here to read the list exclusively at the Daily Beast) and so I am going to have to quick line up some more pet and house sitting gigs (or find a damn agent dammit and a damn book dammit contract) to get the funds to order the rest of these and add to the stack of “to be read”.
I wonder if somewhere in all the books I have yet to read is the answer I have yet to find to the mystery of such cruel dismissal of a beautiful connection? Perhaps. So, I’d better get back to my reading…