[ Sunday, May 23, 2004 ]
From Adaptation
Donald: I loved Sarah, Charles. It was mine, that love. I owned it. Even Sarah didn't have the right to take it away. I can love whoever I want.
Charles: But she thought you were pathetic.
Donald: That's her business, not mine. You are what you love, not what loves you.
I've thought about Joe today. Lisa & I went fishing on Hell Creek. We rode the four wheeler down with a cooler & tackle box strapped to the front & our fishing poles parallel to the four wheeler & hanging off the back. Six fish in, the sky darkened & thunder began to roll. We decided to pack up & head back.
Just as we got to Miller Road, it started to rain heavy. We were still on the four wheeler. It was around 5:30. At six, Joe's visitation would begin. Standing in the rain I couldn't help but think how appropriate it was. That only one year & 7 months earlier it was Joe, Lisa & I trying to outrun a storm on a four wheeler & failing. Being caught in the rain. Loving it. Enjoying life. The grit & grime of it.
Until today the last time I rode a four wheeler in the rain was when the three (four) of us rode on Devil's Creek.
Coming home I had a mini-breakdown. The first time I've really cried about this. I've felt tears swell then pushed them back, unable to keep a few from escaping. Tonight when I broke, I really broke. Too many things surfaced. I've been pushing back, pushing back, pushing back emotion for a while, uncomfortable being anything but pissed, but not wanting to deal with what I really feel.
I can't deal with distance. Especially between people who once loved each other. I know that sometimes there's a need for it. A need to draw a line & say 'i won't let you treat me like this. i don't deserve this. i can't let you affect the core of me.' I've had to distance myself a lot lately for exactly those reasons. But a big part of me misses the relationships I had with those people. The closeness. The ability to understand with just a glance. The feeling of security. The ability to be exactly who you are without worrying about being criticized for being that person. I miss inside jokes. The comfort. And although I realize that I can't beat myself up because someone makes a mistake or worry myself to death because I don't feel they're making the right decisions, I feel guilty because I want to be there when I'm needed. I want to be available & understanding.
I never wanted to be the type of person who couldn't empathize with someone else's condition. At the same time I'm aware that there is a huge difference between empathy & sympathy. And I don't want to enable anybody. I don't want to say 'this is okay' when I know in my soul that it isn't.
Today I sat in Campton & waited on Sam. I hadn't done that in a long time although Campton used to be the place I'd run to when I needed inspiration. I'd sit by Farm Bureau with a notebook & a pen, observing life, jotting lines & notes, watching people circle town, dart into Quik Mart, hold down the bridge. It amused me endlessly. To watch the patterns of behavior. To wonder about back stories. To silently inquire what motivates some people to do the things they do, to walk a certain way or rev their engines in a straight stretch of road. I wondered what defense mechanisms were in operation. Who was trying to cover what feeling. And finally, why do I feel like I'm part of all this but removed in some strange way. As though I'm always observing the big picture instead of losing myself in the detail.
Today was different. I sat in Farm Bureau parking lot without notebook or pen. I watched. A husband. A wife. Within seconds of each other but never crossing paths. One driving a dump truck, the other running errands with the baby. A man trying to figure out the mystery of Quik Mart gas pumps. A young chick doing her best Jennifer Lopez impersonation right down to hoop earrings the size of dinner plates. I wondered about insecurities, mine & theirs, how destructive it is to keep covering up & covering up.
I wondered about Joe. What he was trying to cover up with drinking. Tonight I learned that a few weeks ago his Dr. told him to quit drinking. That it would kill him. This week he drank & never woke up. I worry about how he felt on the inside. I worry that he didn't think he was special. That he didn't know how people felt about him, how many people actually loved him. I'm sorry that I never told him that I thought he was beautiful. Flawed but still beautiful.
The truth is I may not be as close with some people as I once was, there might be small gaps or even country miles between us, but there is a part of my life they own; there is a part of me that is solely theirs. Because I loved them. Because I chose to love them. Because I chose to let them in & occupy that space. Sometimes I regret the outcome, but never the choice to love. Because opening up is such a hard thing to do. Becoming vulnerable, exposed, subjecting yourself to rejection or hurt--it's difficult. But at the same time, it's the grit and grim of living, getting your hands dirty together, finding beauty in that--that makes life not only worth living, but something you would choose to do over & over again.
I am what I love. Not what loves me. If I have ever loved you, I still love you. Though I might be recoiled in hurt, there is still a piece of you that is me. And a piece of me that is you. And regardless of the outcome, I am thankful that we have this ability, to give of ourselves, to loved & be loved, to identify with each other. Because sometimes, life is so so hard & the contents just seem to scatter everywhere. Cleaning it up is a messy business.
Much love,
~ Rebecca 1:22 AM [+]
Sometimes its best to step away,
Watch from a distance day by day.
Knowing its over but hard to let go,
Thinking of others, exspecially Joe.
Why does it happen life ending so fast,
Makes you sit and wander about your past.
He leaves to go to someone new,
She stays cause she scared we know this is true.
Did i do all that i could,
Did i try as hard as i should.
Its time to go i'm shutting the door,
Nothing is ever the same anymore.
(guess)
By 
, at
5:57 PM
