“I know you’ve heard it all before,
So I don’t say it anymore,
I just stand by and let you fight your secret war.
And though I used to wonder why,
I used to cry till I was dry,
Still sometimes I get a strange pain inside.
Oh, Joey, if you’re hurtin’, so am I.”— Concrete Blonde, “Joey”
This CD literally dropped out of the sky in my room amid a crapalanche while I was looking for a favorite shirt. What a wonderful tune.
I loved it when it came out because for three months I lived with a guy named Joe who was my heart, my adventure buddy, my cross to bear, a scar on my soul that I really don’t notice anymore.
I found myself poking at a different old wound the other day and this song still fits. It might be 20 years later and the aches and pains aren’t just on the inside anymore, but it’s funny how you still find yourself in the same situations.
I ran into Joe several years back. We were with new people and yet we beelined to each other for the world’s biggest, best hug.
I find that to be true even now. Put aside all the weird goings-on and you strip it down to two great people who will always love the absolute shit out of each other in our fucked-up little ways.
I have somebody I worry about. He says all the right things and acts perfectly fine around me. And at face value, for the sake of conversation, these days I’m willing to accept that.
I used to challenge him. I wanted him to see the world differently. And at some point I realized he sees it his way for a reason. And it’s not right for me to take away that unique coping mechanism when I have a million and five of my own.
But I always get so upset inside when it comes to him. Further proving that certain things just aren’t meant to be, and not the way they were/are. Mom said something interesting to me, that she’s never seen me get so nuts over somebody. Like, somebody-medicate-me nuts.
This whole having-one’s-heart-invested thing was foreign. And unprecedented. And I certainly don’t expect a repeat performance. I’m back to “live and let live.” It’s easier for all of us. And frankly, it just works.
Today I resolve to let go of Whorothy. I mean, I will continue stalking the shit out of her, I’m sure. 🙂 But I don’t have enough mental real estate to house her anymore. I never did.
This also means no more jokes or zingers (even though I just thought of a whole bunch of ’em). That’s because that isn’t me. Anger and frustration and HURT more than anything was the basis of my demented sense of humor toward her.
I was happier before I knew of her existence and I think letting go of wanting to mow her over with a moving vehicle might help me get back to that point.
I want to be the person I think I am … the one so many people seem to think I am … the one that I see in others that I feel like, of late, I can’t measure up to. And that means sending as much love out into the world as I possibly can. Perhaps this time it won’t get lost in the mail and I can finally, finally make this world a better place like I always planned.