I feel, sometimes, that I am dancing through life to a song only I can hear. As if the things that seem to make sense to me, seemed skewed to others. I see the looks on their faces. I can read their thoughts. I know that they look at me with some sort of curiousity saved for hybrid animals in the zoo. It's not that I think I have two heads or something. It's more that...I am different. Unique. Strange. Odd. And some people embrace that. And other ridicule it.
The song sets it beat to provide the steps that send me through the magic of my days. I rarely notice that my steps are not aligned with the norm. I am just me. It's not until someone points the variances out to me that I become concerned. Am I really so different? Do I really see the world so differently? Is the fact that I don't dismiss my dreams so much different than everyone else? I honestly don't know.
It has taken me 50 years to get this comfortable with who I am. I am not aware of all I am. I know that I am surprised by what people say...good or bad. I know that I don't mind being the fool, but I don't like looking foolish. There is a difference, you know. I have looked the fool many times in my life. I have been played for one even more. I have wised up over the years. It doesn't happen as often. But, there are those that still try.
Someone told me this evening, while at work, that they felt they were wasting their time working where we work. I heard that and thought, well...what the hell am I doing then? I don't have fulfilling days everyday. They are not always the most pleasant. But, for the most part, I enjoy it. I enjoy helping people. I enjoy making a difference in someone's day if I can. I hope that isn't wasting my life? Because, I think I might want to do it for a little while longer.
I overheard some others talking in the lunchroom today about how they didn't know what they were going to do if someone didn't take them to the fair tonight for the last evening of fun. This person wsa asked if they really like the person that they expected to take them. They said no, but he would do in a pinch. I found that odd. I mean, to think that she thought so little of this person that she expected to think enough of her to want to take her to the fair. I know the fair isn't the biggest deal in the world. But, it was the callousness of the statement that bothered me. She made it sound like this guy really liked her and she was just riding him out until someone or something better came along. And with that attitude, she actually believed she had a right to be angry if he didn't call to volunteer to be her funnel cake benefactor. The discussion was loud enough that most of us in the room had to hear it. I assume that is what this young lady wanted. I sat there for a very long time thinking just how much this whole thing seemed to bother me. The reason is clear to me. Maybe not to others. Lets just say this...for those of us that walk around every day with a heart full, the thought of this kind of attention from someone who generally cares is a gift we dream about. To see it wasted on someone so unconcerned for the feelings of another...is almost too much too tolerate. I know that most of the people that heard it just thought of it as the rantings of a young girl who is very full of themselves. And I agree with that. But, my ears also heard the sound of emotions being manipulated to avoid...what?...boredom? How jacked up is that?
I heard something else today that was just as hard to hear and just as painful. Someone telling me that they hoped I find someone, that I was too good a person not to have someone care about them. They also said, that I was very nice...but, that nice guys finish last...especially with women. This whole conversation stemming from a discussion about my current love life...which is non-existent. It seemed to me they were probing, looking for information. As if, by saying nothing was happening in this part of my life, that I was lying to them. I am not sure why all this hurt so much. I guess it's like the person getting condolences after someone close to them leaves them...not dies...just leaves them. It's offering sympathy for a failure, sort of...a shortcoming. And that is very hard to accept.
I find it frustrating to hear people make light of emotions and affections. I find it difficult to hear others joke about these things. I am guilty of it and I am ashamed of myself when I do it. You want to tease someone for the outfit they have on that day...they made the choice to wear what they have on...so, knock yourself out. You want to judge someone on the hairstyle they have? Again, a choice...for most people anyway...and left open for some teasing.
But, to tease or ridicule someone for their emotions...their feelings...the way they conduct their relationships with friends...and how they choose to show their heart? That isn't just wrong...it's evil. These are things, that for the most part...take no conscience effort. It is part of our make up. It's in our DNA. And, to say that is the subject of humor or scorn...well, it's unforgiveable. And it's cheap. The one thing in this life we have very little control over is who we love and how. The heart wants what the heart wants...the brain plays little part in true romance. If you have to think too much, it's not romance. It's a decision based on facts, figures, and opinions. Nothing more. And they way we treat those people close to our hearts...well, that is what makes us special and unique. And as long as it is positive, loving, and caring...it should be seen with appreciation of spirit. Nothing less.
My mind has been traveling weird paths lately. I am not sure that I know all the reasons why it has been happening. Quitting smoking? Emotions running a little crazy? It seems that I feel the need to unload my past that I have carried around and kept under wraps. It's not that I am overcome with the need to share. Actually, it's quite painful at points. But, the reaction...the understanding...the appreciation...and the feeling that some people actually get what goes through my looney mind...well, that has done a lot for me in accepting who I am to myself. So, I will continue to do it...as long as you read...or even it you don't.
Why?
Because there are just a few things I am not ashamed of in my life. Who I am. What I am. And what I will become. These postings tell that story. How can I be ashamed of them? They are me!
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