Thursday, August 17, 2006

A few weeks ago, I'm talking to a friend about the recent(-ish) happenings in my life. He, for his own reasons, is reacting more judgementally than I personally think is helpful in this given situation, and, exasperated with the weight of his opinions, I find myself giving the only explanation that I know he'll understand. "Sometimes...you just don't have the strength to do the right thing." He sighs and sits back, saying, in the tone of voice that I was hoping for, "Yeah. I know what that's like."


My therapist tells me today that she thinks I'm still "playing a dangerous game." I tell her all that I can: "I know. I know I'm making a mistake. But I can't honestly tell you that I'm done making this particular mistake, quite yet."


Earlier, online with Mr. Ladd...
Linda: Being with him isn't an option.
Mr. Ladd: Yup. It's over, then?
Linda: If life were a clean-cut thing, yes.
Linda: My life? No way, it's not over.
Mr. Ladd: no..not your life. I know that you are an amazing person with a lot more coming (good things, that is). I hope you are ok, though. I also hope that no one is "keeping score", if you catch my drift.
Linda: I think I do.



It's not as soap opera as this makes it seem, the things that have happened, but I guess the morale I want to get across here is this: there's a difference between a mistake that is made out of stupidity or ignorance, and a compulsion that drives you even when you know it's a mistake. An intelligent person can do the wrong thing in good faith, trying their best. And, in general, the world could probably use just a bit fewer clich├ęs. What did a programmed response ever really bring to the table? When dealing with someone you care about, and have faith in, do you honestly believe that if there's an easy answer, they haven't thought about it already? Get creative or get quiet, and leave your judgement at the door. Nobody wins when people keep score.

On with it.