It's gotten so bad that HatGirl is actually rooting for me to leave. To move away, or at least to find work elsewhere for a while. To just get away from all this pain. No matter how much she would miss me, she still says I should leave.
"It would do you good," she says.
Wrong.
There is no getting away. Physically, sure. That would be fairly simple. But emotionally, not so much. This is where I belong. This is where I am, and this is where I'll stay, no matter how far away my body might happen to be. I could travel to the ends of the Earth, and it would do me no good at all, because I couldn't take my heart with me.
So we have a disagreement, HatGirl and I. Even though she's very smart, there are some things that she just doesn't get. This problem that I have, it's not going to be solved by running away. It's not a physical entity from which I can hide. Nope, this is something that, if it's ever going to get better, it's going to have to happen right here.
Not that I expect anything to get better. I fully expect that this is going to kill me eventually. But, at least here, I have a fighting chance. At least here, I can be strong and brave. At least here, I can stand my ground.
I look death in the eye, and it doesn't blink. I wait for the killing blow, and it doesn't come.
What is it waiting for?
It's not what you look at that matters,
. . . . it's what you see.
Within which, there is ALWAYS a choice, your choice.
======= or put another way ========
Life is not the way it's supposed to be. It's the way it is.
The way we cope with it makes the difference.
. . . . I don't know that wallowing qualifies as coping.
posted by: Iron Butterfly | November 6, 2009 9:45 AM
wallowing does not count. Excellent point Iron.
posted by: Erik | November 6, 2009 1:09 PM