It starts with a glance in the wrong direction. Then your eyes fixate upon each other, followed by small smile of acknowledgment. You find yourself staring a bit longer than usual: you look away. All that fills your mind the moment you look away is the intensity of the stare, the way you got lost in that moment, as if time had stood still. Cliche. Then that thought is followed by another glance in the same direction, still wrong, but you choose to ignore it. He stares back with the same intense eyes, but this time you notice the longing, the lust, the desire. It’s as if you’re staring in the mirror, at your reflection because you notice the same longing, the same lust, the same desire.
And that’s how it all begins: betrayal.
It’s beautiful in the beginning because that’s where you feel a real connection. The connection you find between things you have in common and things you have interests in. The connection you feel between understanding each other and wanting to understand each other. In the beginning, it’s all about a mental, emotional, and spiritual connection. A connection that goes far beyond your being and into something much more wonderful.
But then that connection wears off and the relationship grows into a physical connection of touch and kiss and lust. So you throw yourself into that connection, neglecting any other type of connection. You no longer speak to each other about what’s on the heart, instead you speak to each other through the kissing of lips. You no longer touch each other’s soul, instead you’re touching limbs and bones and skin.
Eventually you get so tangled up in the physical being that the emotional, mental, spiritual being has altogether disappeared. And once the physical connection wears off, you’re left with a dying connection of the mental, emotional, and spiritual.
Show me; don’t tell me.
But if I show you things, you might not see it the way I see it. You may interpret it differently, understand it differently, see it differently. If I tell you, then I can give you words and sentences that speak to exactly how it needs to be seen. If I show you, things get lost in translation.
But if I simply just tell you, then it will just be words to you, rather than an experience. So maybe I need to show you.
All these relationship expectations and pressures. If you do something for me then I feel obligated to do something for you. Or I do something for you and you do not feel the need to reciprocate. I expect you to be there, but when you are there you are not in the right state to console me. You expect me to be there for you, but sometimes I just have other things that take priority.
I would rather have no expectations and just keep it as simple as possible. Because then I’m doing things for you because I want to, not because I’m expecting something in return. Or I’m doing things for you because I have the time to, not because I put everything else on hold to cater to your every whim. I like having no rules because I don’t have to constantly wonder if what I’m doing is right or wrong.
I think a relationship just complicates things because then I begin to assume you’re the other half of me, when really you’re just another person trying to fit into the piece of the puzzle that you’re not supposed to fit.
Maybe I’m stupid or naive or gullible. Maybe I’m all of the above. It’s no one’s fault but my own. It’s not that I’m not good enough; it’s that I don’t think I’m good enough. I need constant reassurance, constant reminding: someone constantly telling me that I’m good enough. Because I don’t just know. I can’t just know. I don’t know how to just know. And no one normal has the strength or energy to be constantly reminding me that I’m good enough. I can’t expect that to be anyone else’s job, but my own. So there’s something wrong with me. Not anyone else.
Sometimes you have to ask: When was the last time I made real friends and not virtual friends?
Loneliness: We Brought It Upon Ourselves
I don’t think a friend has the right to tell you that you are not capable of doing something. I don’t think a friend has the right to tell you that you cannot make your dreams come true. I don’t think a friend has the right to tell you that you can’t.
Because you can.
You can do whatever your heart desires. You can do whatever you want to put your time, energy, and effort into. You can reach the stars and beyond.
A real friend won’t tell you that you can’t. Because they’ll be the ones lifting you up, giving you that extra push, being that support system that you need to make every one of your heart’s desires come true. A real friend will tell you can because they are there to back you up, to pick you up when you fall and to save you from heartache.
A real friend will tell you that you can.
I never did know where it was, or is, or will be.. I used to tell myself that it was the place where I grew up. And that place would always be home. Just because it was so familiar and so many memories filled the rooms. I couldn’t picture home being anywhere else as a little girl. Home would always be that house on that street where my family lived. Where stories were enclosed within each room’s walls. Where I could sit on a piece of furniture and tell you a memory.
But the older you get, the more you realize how home changes. It’s not the place I grew up in anymore. Because you find yourself enclosed in that same building, but you feel awkward and weird and out of place. As if you don’t recognize the place anymore and the place doesn’t recognize you. And you have this longing to go to another place where there are new memories with new people and new buildings. Where new stories have filled your mind and it is associated with a new environment.
And you go through the cycle again of trying to define where exactly home might be.
Everyone thinks that once you attain a leadership position then all of a sudden you have to be filled with words of inspiration and words of wisdom.
I don’t have that.
I can’t promise you that every word that comes out of my mouth will be inspirational or full of wisdom. Sometimes I’m not very motivating or moving. Sometimes I just don’t know the words to say. Sometimes I just don’t have words.
But what I will always have is my experiences, inspirational or not, wise or not, motivating or not. My experiences that I put into words, hoping that someone out there can maybe relate. That someone out there can realize that they’re not alone in how they feel or how they think. That we may have something in common: our experiences.
I went back to my alma matter this weekend for my cousins’ graduation. It’s always hard to go back to my old high school because the only memories that seem to pop into my head are the ones that highlight every dumb mistake I ever made in high school. There are some good memories there, but the mistakes and choices I made overshadow them. I saw some of my old classmates and people who used to make my world go ‘round. We were all catching up and talking about our memories. It made me realize how out of touch we really were with each other since we all graduated. It was kind of awkward to think that we once all thought that we would be friends forever.
I can’t help but feel that I somewhat failed as class president of my high school senior class. I look at my class then and now.. The dynamics haven’t changed much. Our grade 12 year was full of drama and full of negativity. I have witnessed 3 classes graduate since I have graduated and I see how their grade 12 year brought them all closer together. My grade 12 year brought nothing but strife and tears. Up to this day, some of that same childish things are still going on. And I can’t help but feel like I failed because I wasn’t able to bring my class to where we were supposed to be. I feel like there’s no fixing it now because it’s totally out of my control. But that’s one thing I regret not accomplishing that year I guess..
Going into this new presidency for the Student Association of my university, I think that’s one thing I want to focus on. Focus on the relationships, rather than just get stuff done. I don’t want to get stuff done again, and then have relationships falling apart. I want to bring people together, not help push them apart. I just wish I knew how..
I believe that there is more than one right person out there for you. That if it doesn’t work out with one person, then there will always be someone else. I can’t believe in the idea that there is only one person out there for you and if you miss that opportunity then you will never get a second chance. The world is too vast and too big to be that small. I believe that there is more than one right person out there for you.
And maybe you’ll get lucky and meet that right person at the right place at the right time. If you get that lucky, then make it work. Do everything you possibly can to make it work until you absolutely run of options. Because there may be a million and one right people for you, but there’s a one in a million chance you could get the right person with the right timing in the right place. Cherish that one in a million chance.
Here’s what I struggle with the most about religion: this idea that there’s only one journey. Let me expand on that thought.
A lot of religions teach you steps on how to find God. They number it out: step 1, step 2, step 3. A specific process on how to find God. And if you don’t carry out each step perfectly, then you will never find Him. I struggle with that.. a lot. I struggle with the idea that there’s only one journey, eliminating the uniqueness of our experiences. I struggle with the idea that because it worked for one person, it will work for all, getting rid of the fact that we are all unique and different. I struggle with that. I struggle with the idea that someone feels they can tell me exactly what to do in my journey because “they’re been through it” so they can shove their belief system down my throat and tell me exactly what I should do to find God.
I have realized that there is a difference between a religious person and a spiritual person. Spiritual people recognize that it’s an individual journey that someone needs to go through at their own pace, on their own terms, and on their own time. They realize that their journey is no measuring stick for anyone else’s journey, that there are no specific steps to this journey. There are no levels, there is no hierarchy. We’re all on the same plain helping each other out: I may learn something that may help you or you may learn something that may help me. At the end of the day, I am no better than you nor are my experiences better than yours.
Now religious people. They insist that there is only one kind of journey and you have to follow it to the last detail, otherwise you’re doomed. They judge how far you are on your journey based on how well you follow the steps. There are levels: if you pray and read your Bible everyday then you’re safe.. if you don’t, then you’re doing something wrong. These are the type of people who cannot grasp the idea that they just might have no idea what someone else is going through, that they just might not have all the answers. They think they know everything because “they’ve been through it”.. whatever that means.
I just get so uncomfortable with people diminishing the uniqueness of each human being. I feel like everyone brings something unique to the table and to tell that person what you’re bringing to the table is not ‘the ideal’ frustrates me. It’s like there’s this mould we have in our minds and if someone doesn’t automatically fit that mould then they’re not good enough. Then we turn them away, making them feel bad for their unique talent or ability because it’s not the traditional way. We just may have missed out on something great. I feel like no one has it all figured out. Not even me. I don’t have it all figured out, that’s for sure. And even if I may have my life somewhat figured out, that doesn’t mean I automatically am able to figure out someone else’s life. It just doesn’t work that way.