As a child, I remember playing silly little board games like Candyland in which your likelihood of winning was purely luck as you randomly drew a card hoping for a rainbow path or a fancy character to spring up allowing you to scream in excitement as you whizzed all your pieces in front of the rest in a silent grin, knowing you’d be victorious finally. It didn’t matter that in reality you happened to pick the right card or that you could not strategize or win the game with any of your own help for your fate was set/unless you cheated of course, but none of you ever did that right, not eveeer/.Well until now, I thought long distance relationships to be the same, pure luck if they actually configured into a working machine. Currently, two of my friends are getting to experience their first meeting after dating these people for over a year, and my mind is starting to reject my original idea that relationships are either slated to occur or dissolve because each of these people constantly thought of “throwing in the towel” and simply leaving the entire relationship as it was too hard.For the longest times, I’ve admitted to myself that I could never do a long distance relationship and those that participate them are slightly mad or just too infatuated with each other to give it up. Now don’t get me wrong, I didn’t automatically make this assumption, I’ve got some experience under my belt but soon after a few weeks it grew tedious and unworthy to me. At the time and even after for a long while, I heard the same horror stories from friends of mine, so I just pushed the ideas away deciding that the reason you heard stories of long distance working was because so few of them truly do so. In my mind, I imagined the chances like a gum ball machine, and maybe only all of the white ones would be the lucky winners destined to work out. However, everyone still was forced to put their quarters in which meant a majority of them would be left with broken hearts and wasted time upon something already foretold to fail. However, my perspective has been blurred a bit now because I’m watching all these people who have loved so fiercely for so long meld together as the bitter fades away, and you’re left with the taste of sugar upon your lips and happiness in the pit of your stomach. Each of them could have given up, but they loved so deeply and wholly that they chose to stick by each other’s side, and maybe that’s what Long Distance is about, plain and simply will not luck or infatuation, but can you endure the pain to reach the heaven that waits for you in the end. Can you love all of a person without the physical aspects and are you willing to pour your emotions and show all your sides to someone regardless of the consequences?
There are not many times I am completely shocked but a few weeks ago, a friend managed to achieve that emotion from me. We were having normal conversation as always which consisted of me giving my attempt at stellar advice for a situation I’d never once experienced which turned out to be quite the challenge, indeed. After I’d finished my long winded conversation with a cup of tea in my hand and a headache forming in the Occipital Lobe, she casually mentioned I should be a Life Coach as if it were a simple fact like telling a stranger the sun is a ball of gas, eventually waiting to waste away and die out. It completely bewildered me as I choked on my tea because how could anyone so calmly tell me that I should be a Life Coach of all things. I was inadequate for the position because life coaches exist to better others lives or remind them of the fact your environment doesn’t decide your fate by providing inspiring stories. I simply had none of that, but as I mulled over the topic which is something I find myself doing far too regularly these days at disjointed times that make me feel like death reincarnated when I’m forced to wake in the morning. However, I’ve rambled off topic, so what I’ve realized after long hours of dissecting the ideas is that life should not be measured by your triumphs and fails or the obstacles you may have had to over come. To succeed in life would simply mean that you’ve grown and evolved from the person you once were because living in the stagnant past is clinging onto wasteful shreds. Instead you should be most proud that if you’ve changed in someway that you’re living life in the correct way because you should always be mold-able and impressionable, willing to change for the betterment and improvement of yourself. Now as these changes occur though, never lose sight of the most important wisdom I could ever give you which is embrace yourself and live your life how you deem it because as Sandberg once summarized the only thing you’re given in life is time, and if you don’t use it, someone else will have no problem stealing the precious present.
I guess what I’m attempting to use words that fill my mouth so awkwardly is that if you’ve changed in life then that means you’re growing, learning, developing, and that is what makes life fulfilling. The idea that your life won’t amount to something simply because you haven’t been put through the same stresses as others is ludicrous because in the end we’re all lost souls looking to cling onto our shred of comfort in the unpleasant yet rewarding journey that is life.
Lately, I’ve been binge watching a favorite move of mine called “Now You See It.” After having the lines drilled into my head every few minutes of the movie, I’ve spent quite a lot of time pondering the validity of them in other references other than magic, of course. If you’re unfamiliar with the movie, the main character repeats the line “Come in closer, closer, closer, as close as you can possibly get because the closer you are, the less you see.”
In my late night thinking, I’ve realized this mirrors in people as well especially when in a friendship. When we are looking afar at someone, analyzing the simple things we do, we notice all the quirky little pieces about them. We notice the way they constantly appear to be obnoxiously positive, disgruntled, or simply somewhere in between. When we do not know someone other than as mere acquaintances, we learn of their flaws and positive attributes. We analyze what they succeed at and infer what their best traits must be from something as little as cheek bones to how rebellious they are. While we remain acquaintances, we watch then under steely, stealthy eyes in attempts to determine whether we find them acceptable to associate with us. We let their flaws scream at us glaringly obvious as if plastered upon the vintage comic book bubbles. Eventually, we either throw them to the side acting like a back up in case we ever actually need them, keeping he acquaintance under our reins as if to never free them because we reply to the occasional message or spontaneously go to dinner with them, only to never make that mistake again. Those are the easy people though because you’ve defined the friendship if you could even dare to call it that, but what of those who slither in with open arms willing to make you fall in platonic love with their gentle conversations and inside jokes you weave together like two spiders forming a secret with their threads of web but the pattern is only seen by the two who made it? What of them? This brings me to the sticky situation I talked of before. You’ve now gotten close, so close in fact that you text each other about irritating boys who choose Pokemon over you, or now you choose to go to the mall to laugh at the gaudy clothing and share an ice cream swirl that will ultimately end up smeared on each other’s shirt after one of you attempts to be mischievous. You’ve reached the level in which you know each other’s habits like the back of your hands and even understand all the reasons behind what they do even something as simple as what lipstick color is most preferred. You’ve gotten in close, irrevocably close, so close that you could almost reach out and grasp her soul. Tell me now, do you allow their flaws to glare at you? Do you notice the irritating habits she once had? Do you notice the way she constantly pushed you past the breaking point? Do you notice them the way you did when she was an acquaintance. No, because now you’re so close that you’ve put up with it all and everything else that was of importance fades away like when the sun vanquishes heavy fog.
POOF! Magic Trick completed! Tell me this, did you even realize it happened, or were you too close to realize the trick had happened?
It’s currently 11:03, and I figured: What better time is there to make vent I’ve desperately searched for on a word blog that I’ve consistently procrastinated on? Jolly good, right?
Well as I sit here on a Saturday night wallowing in self pity regardless of the glaring obvious fact that I’m on vacation which should be thrilling, I’ve contemplated over quite a bit and as most sessions go, it all ends at the head point that is the fear of what’s to come versus the terror of who you are now. Lately, I’ve been a state of mind in which everything around me feels like a fuzzy, rose colored image of what it should be as I let the background fade into the night sky and the morning dawn, and people’s faces blur together as if blank to my eye, but most of all it seems the emotions in me have fizzed out like an engine releasing it’s last few sputters before giving out as it is too tired to move on. A part of me feels ensnared by my comfortable surroundings, that I’ve become too accustomed to the feathery feeling of a blanket of friends around me and the forces of family pushing me up as strangers compliment me. Another part of me realizes though that I’m simply making excuses either because I desire change as I do far too much for fear of being accustomed into a pitiful routine while deep inside it realizes that it stems from the fact that lately although I’ve helped many and made myself feel somewhat of a spark from their love for me, the love for myself ignites me as well, but in reality, the issue is me because I feel somewhere trapped in between wanting to explore everything and experience each adventure, religon, and even social cause no matter how insignificant, I feel too comfortable to spread my wings. My young age does nothing to help this, nor the fact that the words future loom over me like a dull cloud, constricting my voice into short, clipped mmmhmm’s whenever anyone asks about what’s to come because I have so much potential. In reality, I have no idea what’s to come because currently I feel uninterested, unamused, and overall bored of all I know. Even as I sit here now, I’ve noticed the changes coming slowly, but soon they will all clatter down in piles of shattered glass when one person attempts to remove or understand why I tediously carry each “champagne flute” upon me like a weight, cling them to my side although they drench my clothes in sticky liquid and make me smell of a little shack bar in the wrong side of town with one too many people chugging down shots as if it’s the holy water they thirst for to survive but one more day. I have simply changed too much for my surroundings and even the people I once called dearest to my heart. Today, I refused to even let them touch me, and instead shrinked away when they failed to notice and held back faces of putrid uncomfortable disgust over their actions. It’s when I realized how far I’ve fallen into this little abyss that I’ve created for myself, like a sunken trap in which I wait to be buried by black roses as the thorns teeth cut into me like pin points and the slowly decaying roses become the only air I allow myself to breathe. I find myself slowly fleeting further in even now as I’ve made plans with friends to make flower crowns like the woodland fairies we all personify, I feel it seeping. It comes with cold, clammy hands slowly reminding me that yes, I can barely feel the difference in our heats or the way it twists my heart because I’ve simply grown immune. Tired and sick of each aspect, but like a fleeting ghost when the sun rises, it will be vanquished…only again to return on a solemn night like this when I feel lost yet desire to crumble the earth under my fingertips like a burned piece of paper. Watching the ashes fall to the ground one by one as if finally receiving some sick pleasure from it all, this is my saturday night where I’ll now attempt to escape into a book with characters more damaged than me and hope someone slipped nightshade in my tea when I failed to look.