For a long time now, I’ve had this dream
For the life of me, don’t know what it means
Same cold room, ceiling falling
I start running (Running)
Seems so clear, then the breakup
I reach out, always wake up cold, alone
Between what’s real and becoming ghosts
Blue sky days on the rainy coast
I hate you, I love you, I want you, don’t want to
The words we never got to say
And even though we walked away
We’ll always have this song to sing
The truth is, I wouldn’t change a thing
I wouldn’t change a thing
-Illenium and Thirty Seconds to Mars, “Wouldn’t Change a Thing”
Come awn, you didn’t think I’d go too much longer without a song, did you? Let’s not be silly here. You must know by now that music is part of my love language, with myself. Music doesn’t make me happy or sad. It doesn’t cause me to feel things. It unearths feelings. It digs deep into the spaces inside of me where I hide and exposes. Releases. Reveals. So yeah, I love it.
I’ve been struggling with certain relationships of mine lately. I’ve talked about it here, expansively. I’ve expressed my disappointment, my expectations, my revelations. I’ve talked about all the things I needed to learn about myself on this journey and then all the things I need to understand about other people. How to read them, how to trust them, when to stay away, when to say goodbye.
I’m going to share something deeply personal because it’s the only place I think I can begin. Whenever I have a situation with another human that is thought provoking or troublesome, it keeps me up at night. If it doesn’t keep me up, then it disturbs my sleep. My dreams. My peace. I go from running through the narrative in my mind in a way that makes sense to me and then somehow, it becomes distorted. It’s like reading a book when you’re tired. You’re engrossed and unwilling to put the book down, but suddenly you are reading the same sentence over and over again, and then the words are blurring together, and then the book has fallen from your hands and you’ve lost your place entirely. It’s a progression from understanding and involvement into loss.
I feel resolute. I feel strong in my feelings and my actions and then, I lose my way. I start to second guess. I question how I feel and how I felt and what I know and what’s next. I run through events over and over again until a sordid game of telephone unfurls in my mind. I don’t know where I started but I ended on doing the wrong thing. Making a mistake. Fucking things up in a way that’s irreparable.
Why? Well, I’m insecure. Also, I’ve fucked myself so often in relationships that I’m just beginning to feel my way through to good stuff in that arena. Also, I’m incredibly sensitive. Also, I have a deep burning desire for accountability in a way that nearly cripples me. Also, I’m human. Very, very human.
This is what people don’t often share because it’s the yucky bit of reconciling the wayward direction of relationships. There is never a black and white situation. Ever. Never. There is no I love you or I hate you. There is vacillation. There is letting go when there is still love and the clinging tight when there is loathing. There is wanting in a way that’s glorious and wanting in a way that’s disabling. There’s not wanting in way that feels like a struggle and there’s not wanting in a way that feels like a freedom you’ve sought after for your whole life.
You can make the best decision you’ve ever made and there’s still a look back. Sometimes the look back is to learn. Sometimes the look back is to move forward. Sometimes the look back is to mourn. Sometimes the look back is to close a door, for good.
The murky feelings are not the bad stuff. At all. That’s just life. It’s messy, man. It really is, on every level. Even when things look sunny and clear, there is still a shitty little dark rain cloud that creeps in here and there. Some have more rainy days than others and some just get a hurricane but skip the little rain showers. Worry about yourself, you know?
The real issue is whether or not you would change things. I can’t believe I’m even saying this right now after all I’ve been through but I wouldn’t change a thing. I wouldn’t. I’m not just paying lip service to a jazzy song that I want to use for the purpose of this post. Not even close. All of those things that I went through, each event and each relationship, they shaped me. They changed me. They made me who I am today. They reaffirmed all the things I know about myself. All the things I love about myself. All the parts of me that I want to work on and then all the parts that I’ve come to terms with and love despite my frustration.
These realizations have only come to me after pain. After running. After avoidance. After grief. I didn’t just wake up after everything I went through and brush myself off and think, well then, onto the next. Nope. Not even close. I agonized. I beat myself up. I raged. I questioned. All the emotions and all the motions and everything else.
I’m not being trite or casual when I say that I wouldn’t change a thing. That’s not my intention at all. It’s my truth. I see all the ugliness but there is some part of me that knows that erasing that would like erase some good shit too. Like really good shit. Like when you get to see what a queen your mother is because she picks you up at lunch and lets you cry in her car. Like when you get to see who your friends are because they don’t ask you all the questions that you don’t have the resolve to answer. Like when you get to forgive yourself in a way that’s meaningful and life affirming. Like when you get to know what a real cry is and a real scream and a real laugh. Like when you get to know what life is like on no sleep and all the sleep.
I can’t take away your pain or your shitty experiences. I’m not going to pretend that I know what you’ve been through. And I’m sure some of you have been through shit that it’s better to erase and I acknowledge that with the deepest of respect. But for most of us, for many of us, let’s get to the place where we wouldn’t change a thing. Or maybe we wouldn’t change a lot. Acceptance. Peace.
Just saying…
x.
L.
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