More of a personal blog tonight, because I don’t think I can coherently continue to function without jotting down these thoughts. I’ve tried for this past week to blog about this or something – really anything. It’s not even that I have writer’s block, I have so much I want to say. But when blogging what comes to question is:
- Do I care?
- Will anyone else care?
- Am I comfortable with everyone reading this, including the people it may be about?
So with those 3 questions for this post, I can answer: yes, no, not really. But do I need to say this? Yes, I do. Because no matter how many times I reiterate it to my friends or close ones, it doesn’t matter to them. I’m not telling them for their sake of needing to know or my sake of needing to vent, I’m telling them because if I let these thoughts swirl in my head any longer, I might combust – like Sparky Sparky Boom Man (Avatar: The Last Airbender ref anyone?).
The question at hand, on my mind, in my thought is: when did we stop? Maybe it should be when did I stop? instead. But when did we/I stop caring about myself, my actions, and those around me. I’ve always been super empathetic and I take pride in my ability to know what other’s around me feel. When did that stop?
For the past month, I’ve been so reckless. Careless to the consequences of my actions. Thoughtless to the seeds I’ve sowed. I’m awful. I’ll take blame for letting poisonous seeds grow between me and the other party. Here’s the tricky part where you can’t just read this and comment oh chin up Nam, it wasn’t your fault – but a hefty amount of it is. In never intentionally nurtured doubt and negativity, but through my actions, I backhandedly watered those seeds every chance I could. That’s on me. I can’t blame someone for that.
I never meant to plant, water, and bloom those seeds. But I did. I wonder how I was so mindless as to not notice how my actions affected someone else. Maybe I noticed and brushed it off. Maybe I’m so dense that I just never saw what I had done. When I did realize it though, it hit me. All at once. Like walking into a glass door because you’ve been too wrapped up in a text on your phone. It’s all good and fine till you something stops you, dead in your tracks. A transparent wall that let’s you see all of your mistakes, actions, and ripples. (Or at least some amount of it.) It’s good because it’s eye-opening, awakening even. But awful because how did I not know this?!
Whatever. It’s in the past. There’s nothing more to do than apologize and move forward. That’s how I work. I bounce back quickly and so when I had this revelation and saw this, I brought it up…kind of. I hadn’t hit the glass door until earlier today. I saw a glimpse of it and so I had stopped before I could hit that wall. But a conversation I had brought that wall to me, and jeez. I don’t know what to say either than I am awful. Despicable even. I never knew misinterpretations and social media could go that far but it can so lesson learned: tread carefully.
It’s funny because I had tried to write about this in so many drafts. I have maybe 10 or 12 posts in my draft folder just waiting to be completed. I started but I could never form any thoughts and so I think I needed to hit that glass door to be able to write this. I’ll be grateful for that. (Speaking of being grateful, I haven’t written an appreciation post in a while…) I don’t know guys. I’m torn because I don’t think the situation is salvageable at this point, maybe I don’t even want to salvage the bits. Is that wrong to quit completely?
On one hand, I want to fix this. I want to lay things to rest and just settle it all. On another hand, I think we both know it’s too damaged to save. Picking up pieces at this point would be like trying to rebuild a house with the ashes of the previous structure. Maybe that’s not a fitting expression, but point taken. Is there a bond strong enough to phoenix it’s way to life? In brutal honesty, I get the feeling towards no. Yet I’m hesitant to turn my back and take that step away.
There have been 3 people in my life that I’ve walked away from. To this moment, I wonder if I did the right thing. I have a great memory which is useful but at the same time, I remember so much I don’t want to. It feels like it would easier to overload my brain with words from a dictionary in Swahili or Uzbek to flood out the bad memories than it would be to forget the bad memories. So I wonder if I take that step away, if I’m going to think about it in 3 years like I think about walking from the others. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll live. This isn’t some life or death situation that will scar me for life. It just brings a thought to me that, in this moment, I can’t shake.
I’ve moved all my chess pieces. I guess I have to wait for my opponent now. But isn’t it ironic because I don’t know how to play chess for the life of me. Maybe that speaks more for the situation than this whole post.
To relate it back to the theory of mosaic souls, I don’t know what to do with that piece of glass. I don’t know if I want it apart of my mosaic or where it should be and how I should place it. Maybe I can morph it into me with a little time and thought. I think that’s what the aftermath of this situation is about. Trying to fit that piece of glass somewhere you didn’t expect it to end up.