Hurt by Love

Writing is late this morning because I dragged ass and made it to Starbucks to drink a doppio con panna and run to the train, but I didn’t get my usual morning writing time. The only reason I’m writing now is that everyone in the office, including my office mate, haven’t arrived yet, and I don’t have any projects from yesterday to finish before they get here. This entry may abruptly end like Monty Python and the Holy Grail, because when my office mate gets here, it’s time to put together our to-do list and get busy… although since it’s New Year’s Eve, I think we’ll be out of here by 3:30 or so…. which is good because I just could not fall asleep last night. Too much going on in my head, because like a lot of people, when I lay my head on the pillow, my brain has to remind me of everything I’ve ever done wrong in my life. It’s the time when I can’t wait to fall asleep, because the same problems on which I ruminate tend to work themselves out in my dreams.

Because Counselor asked me not to contact Dana under any circumstances, I get closure by dreaming about her. I talk to her all the time, for hours. The nice thing about dreaming is that I always get the responses from her that I want, because I’m making them up. We don’t fight, we discuss calmly, and we laugh…. oh, how we laugh. Not only do we talk seriously, old inside jokes come up and sometimes I laugh so hard I wake in the night with joy.

When I awoke, a Facebook memory that made me laugh was Dana is the best thing that has ever happened to me. #lafawnduh There are very few pains in life that cannot be made better by a quote from Napoleon Dynamite or The Big Lebowski…. or paraphrasing them to fit your needs. For instance, this is not ‘Nam… this is divorce. There are rules.

Apparently, one of them is maintaining no contact, which is easy, and so hard. It’s easy when I cry, and hard when she makes me laugh. Because we’ve been best friends for so long, every day there is a Facebook memory with her in it. Most of them are seriously, seriously hilarious. Facebook has introduced a new feature for “managing ended relationships,” but I don’t want to use it because those memories make me so happy.

I don’t want to focus on pain. I want to focus on joy, and I’ll take it wherever I can get it… that being said, letting pain out is important, too. I wrecked a good relationship because of my mental illness, and the fact that I grew so much as a person in the last two years that my actions and reactions were not the same anymore, and I literally was not the same person, for better or for worse. The resolution to our fistfight was even hilarious…. She agreed to take 75% of the blame if I would take 25%, and we high-fived. As I have said before, I would have settled for 51/49, but she chose to be generous and I will never forget it.

My kindness was that Dana’s dad is also a lawyer, and has several bottles of Johnny Walker Blue for being a badass with some of his clients. I bought the smallest bottle I could afford and brought it to her with the words I just wanted to tell you that your dad is not the only badass in this family. We were broken up, but at the same time, there’s not going to be a single point in my life that I won’t treasure her friendship and think of her as family. What she does with that information is up to her, but there it is regardless. I am sad and disappointed that we could not work on things anymore, but she got this idea in her head that I was obsessed with Argo, and not just processing things that had already happened, which was a whole hell of a lot. Argo and I had our own issues, but not romance… just deeply personal to both of us. We both needed to say things to each other that freed us…. but it was having that freedom that made me crush out in the first place. Obsession is too strong a word for processing the past, and because of it, I lost someone I considered the deepest friendship I’d ever had in my life. I can only hope that Argo knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that after my move and all of the things I’ve done to establish myself here, as well as reconnecting with old friends, that of course I wanted to be a part of her real life so we could cut the Internet bullshit, but it wasn’t the most important thing to me about moving. Getting away from everything I knew was. That being said………………………

In my mental illness, I did some things that showed it clearly, and I know I hurt her. But at the same time, when my meds were corrected and I saw myself in an out of body experience where I could comment on seeing myself lost in blackness, I corrected it on my own. I am an INFJ, just like Jesus and Martin Luther King, Jr. I don’t know that I have their visionary capabilities, but I want to try. They’re my favorite preachers, and to live up to their examples is intimidating and exciting all at the same time.

When I go to Howard for grad school, I want to study race relations as a writer…. not as a class. As observations from digging around and people-watching. I am interested in social justice as a practice, and I can’t think of a better place to start. I kind of want to be a watered-down version of Jeremiah Wright- passionate and yet, not political. There is no room for politics in religion if you are in the practice of accepting everyone for exactly who they are.

I feel that i have the capacity to vision now that I am not weighted down by my past mistakes, and have no interest in starting any relationships except networking and friendship. I want to see my friendships with both Rev. Matt and Rev. Susannah deepen, as well as Rev. Audrey, who comes from the black church tradition and can bring a crowd to a standing ovation because they are so pumped up by her words.

I was hurt by love, but now I want to live in it.





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