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Guess I’m not the fighting kind..

July 19, 2006

There’s that old addage that anything in life worth having is going to require a little bit of a struggle. That’s a sentiment that I generally subscribe to and believe to have some degree of truth but sometimes I feel like I’ve already fought so much that I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of giving my all to efforts and feeling unsatisfied. I just can’t help but wonder when it’s all going to mean something, when I’m going to have that moment of clarity where I realize that all I’ve gone through and all the mistakes I’ve made and pain I’ve felt along the way brought me to this moment. Or maybe that moment doesn’t happen in real life. Maybe it only happens on cheesy family sitcoms and sappy romantic comedies. “I spent all of my life, waiting for answers to lift me, to numb me, to definte it all.” For some reason, that line just feels really poignant and appropriate to how I’m feeling.

To some extent, I feel burdened by my own memory. My long term memory is long and elephantine and I forget very few things that have happened to me. And sometimes I wish I could. I wish I could forget some of the times I’ve been hurt, some of the times I’ve watched relationships die slow natural deaths, knowing I could do little to save them. I feel like the people that have said or done hurtful things to me in my life probably don’t remember them. And I wish I didn’t either. Maybe I wouldn’t hold onto my pain so much. I think that’s ultimately why I’m so cognizant of the way other people feel. Knowing that an action or something I say to them could ultimately stick with them for the rest of their lives, their pain at that moment, though duller over time, is still readily available to accompany them for that stroll down memory lane.

I don’t feel like I’ve seen that much in my life. I don’t know that I would call myself sheltered, though I’m sure there are those that would, but I’ve certainly been protected from certain pain in my life just by virtue of my family and the people I’ve surrounded myself with. I don’t feel like my eyes have seen too much. I don’t think it shows on my face but my heart feels a little tired. It sounds really trite but I do feel sometimes like my heart’s felt too much. I feel a little emotionally beat up, bruised and exhausted.

I guess all I’m waiting on is that moment of clarity where I feel like all that I’ve been through and all of the tough times and the times that I struggled were worth it. I guess I’m just waiting to be vindicated.


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