Pride

Sometimes the people in the world I am closest to get frustrated with me (but because they love me, they stick around!). As much as I chat about the frivolous and write about the serious, when it comes to voicing my true feelings and emotions (usually regarding my relationships or the lack there of), I’m virtually mute. Drawing the words out of me is as insurmountable a task as penetrating Fort Knox. I am woman enough to admit that I would probably be pretty frustrated too. But perhaps, upon further examination and explanation, I will enable my wonderfully supportive friends to bridge the gap between frustration and understanding.

Boys come and boys go. And each time someone new makes their way on stage in this story called my life, my friends are usually more excited than I am. The squeals, the giggles, and the rapid fire questions are all commonplace when I hesitantly speak the words, “I met someone.” Why the disparity in excitement? It’s not that I don’t want to be excited, but with the amount of life experience under my belt that I have, I tend to be reserved. I keep my cards in my hand, attempt to keep my emotions in check, and anticipate the worst case scenarios while they have the freedom to have faith and hope and dream of happy endings

Their frustrations arise when they want to share their thoughts, dreams, opinions, and ideas. When they want hear are all the juicy (or not-so-juicy) details and instead become acquainted with my one word answers. Some shake their heads while others whine about how they shared that exact information with me. Those who know me best know it is falling on deaf ears. I don’t budge. I do try to appease them and explain that it isn’t about them. They don’t realize that I’m not slighting them. It’s not as if I am going around telling the world this coveted information and not telling them. I’m not telling anybody.

The savvy ones have caught on. If they let me write it out, the stream of consciousness may reveal a little more. If they ask the right questions, a few more details may slip. And when all else fails, libations tend to loosen my lips.

The thing is, if I speak of it, then, it is real. And if it is real, it has as much potential to bloom as it does to break down, to develop as it does to deteriorate, to flourish as it does to fragment, leaving me to pick up the pieces yet again. This is only half of the battle. For me, the hardest part isn’t the ending of the relationship or the termination of the situation. Don’t be mistaken. That’s difficult in its own respect, but in the infamous words of Sheryl Crow, “the first cut is the deepest,” so at this point in life, nothing trumps what I have already endured. However, what is much harder for me, the overachieving, always succeeding one, is the task of admitting that, yet again, I have failed in the one aspect of life in which I haven’t achieved success…yet. It is far easier for me and my ego to say nothing than to utter the words, “It didn’t work out.”

Whether I speak of it or not, the situation, it’s potential, it’s path, it’s fate and it’s future, doesn’t change. My pride, however, is a work in progress, and I know that it eventually will because the people in my life are worth it. They are caring and kind and only want to be a part of my world despite my best efforts to forbid them access. And while they may not share my viewpoints and may still be aggravated by my inability to share, I know that they will be there and that now they understand.

About Like

I don’t know if it was while listening to my iPod or the radio or watching a couple dance their first dance at their wedding reception. Or maybe it was just a random thought in the midst of many thoughts throughout my day. Whatever the reason, I started thinking about songs. Why is it that there are so many songs about love, but no songs about like?

Love and like. In my years, I can honestly say, I have had much more experience with the latter, ridding my life of those who fell short of the mark before it had the chance to develop into the former. And through all the ups and downs of figuring those feelings out, I often used music as a source of coping or hoping. However, there were times where the words weren’t quite right. Declarations of forever. Elaborate phrases evoking visions of birds chirping and flowers blooming. Recollections of dreams coming to fruition. All good and wonderful and beautiful things, but I wasn’t there yet. Where were the words I needed at this very early stage of a path I wasn’t sure I wanted to stay on…yet?

I contemplated what was missing and thought… When will someone sing about nervous anticipation mixed with doubt? Where are the songs about those days, weeks, and months when you are still on the journey to understanding someone – those days before life has handed you some earth-shattering, defining moment? Why are there no lyrics for those critical moments after you realize there is chemistry, but before you know if there is enough for it to be more? Who is speaking to the hearts and minds of those who are walking the line – wanting to go out on a limb and risk it all, but taking a few steps back and keeping their cards close to their chests? What words will speak to those deciding if someone’s communication style is a deal breaker?

Like has its own unique challenges, feelings, and frustrations which are often neglected in music. Maybe it’s because “Always and Forever” will always be a better selling potential then “Today and the Foreseeable Future?” Or that “I Will Always Love You” has more appeal than “I Could Possibly Give this a Try.” But isn’t that what we are thinking? I can only hope that one day I’ll find the lyrics that adequately express my like until I need the ones that will express my love.