The Past is Passed

Posted: July 26, 2010 in Getting Therapyized

What are the odds of running across 4 people from my long, long, loooong gone past in the last month?  4 men. 4 important men. Important in the way of significance in shaping my life.  …In changing my path… my very SELF. How many times have I thought “I am me”, and then a few years down the road remembered that I didn’t even know who I was.

The fog of obscurity is highlighted by moments that stand out in my mind — defining where I would end up.  Yet maybe it is only by bringing these memories to my now, these people in my now — that will tell me who I have really become.

I have been a bad person.  A hot mess LOL.  A flailing human who felt no belonging or sense of what love means.  What DOES love mean? A connection, a chemistry, a history, a catalyst?  These men have been all… An elusive concoction of mixing with the essence of me and blasting it to a place that I never could’ve imagined.  Hell,… heaven… compromise, forgiveness, epiphany, longing, regret.

Sometimes there seems such an ache inside,… to be who I’m REALLY supposed to be.  And it always seems to elude me.  All the women I have been, with these men.

A child seeking approval — grateful for attention, willing to do anything to be seen as acceptable in his eyes. Even to the point of self-destruction.

A young woman struggling to find her way in the world yet caught up in the aftermath of warring emotions and contradictory behavior.  Fighting him, fighting myself — unable to get to the heart of the matter.

An immature wife who catches glimpses that unconditional adoration could’ve grown into a teenager graduating something.  A first-time stand to not take it anymore.  …Without even knowing what IT is.

A lost soul grasping onto an energetic addiction, mistaking it for love. Still unable to shake the residual clinging of memory fooling me into believing that I was the root of all evil.

That I was… bad.

So these men… ushering in the flood of HOW it was, how it could’ve been,… what it was, and what it never was. Does memory serve me correctly?  Does it do any good to compare “notes”?  My perceptions, their perceptions, the affinity to move past the painful, the gift of forgetting what ever went wrong.

This has been righteous.  Sending these compartmentalized flashbacks looming to the forefront has been poignant to me.  Looking at all the ways I have fucked up, remembering all the ways I’ve been TOLD I fucked up.  …Then, determining for myself if it’s true.  So many things I have accused of others, so much of which I have been accused.  And it’s relative.  For some it morphs into what we want to remember… for others it’s about how much it has been overwritten.  For ME — it’s about a sense of gratefulness. That I’ve been molded… thrown in a direction I probably would’ve never chosen for myself.  Would I be where I am now if I had stayed?  Would I be WHO I am now, if I hadn’t gone through the next thing?

All I trust, is the right man will know me.  As I will know the me I present.  Not by sending in a representative, someone who I think you want me to be… chameleon’ing what I think will get me through the situation — but by being authentically ME.

To those who I have hurt, I am sorry… I didn’t know.  I didn’t know life and I didn’t know me, how could I know YOU?  How COULD I love you? I did the best I could and it wasn’t good enough.  It’s bad… it’s sad… and I’m okay with that.  I’ve revisited us and I screwed many things up.  I’ve thought it over and I can live with it.

I wonder what your memories are… I wonder if you know how you affected me.  I wonder if you know how much I have changed BECAUSE of you.  I wonder if it would make any difference.  I guess I should care IF it makes any difference, but you know what?… it only matters if it matters NOW.  And whether or not you’re in my now — is up to you.

Peace.

klk
Read more: http://www.myspace.com/theslice/blog#ixzz0wEqGj7Z2

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