I’ve become really skilled at being perfectly honest while at the same time, not telling the truth at all.
It’s probably the most frustrating thing about writing this blog. Saying how I feel without saying how I feel. Being vague while being specific. Coming up with some overall theme, an idea, A METAPHOR, that shapes a situation and explains what I am going through.. without ever actually saying any little actual detail of it. But at the same time, still trying to give my words some depth, trying to harness on to some brevity, so that the meaning behind everything I write, can potentially get more symbolic mileage than if I were to just say exactly what I want to say. Does that make sense?
maybe someone said something to me that made me feel like they were selling themselves short…. Settling.
I could say…
so and so needs to get their shit together.
Get a little ballsy.
Start grabbing life by the horns.
Freakin’ grow a pair!
(ok sorry.. enough male anatomy idioms)
But then if I were to do this, I would be gossiping and you would all think I was totally rude and my point would be lost in translation through the specific details of the situation. However, by being vague.. by using the main idea behind the conversation I might have had (In this particular instance.. to not settle), you all get to benefit from my words, instead of just merely reading about my frustrations.
But that doesn’t mean my frustration subsides. Sometimes, writing is like having a surface level conversation with someone you used to be really close with. You know the kind. The Hey-hows-life-whats-new-glad-youre-doing-well-see-ya-later type of unsatisfactory interaction that leaves you a little wistful and nostalgic for a time when you used to really be able to really share things with that person. And you smile and walk away feeling content you got to see them. But then that contentment is quickly replaced by the pained realization that a part of you was holding your breath, just waiting for the previous relationship to relapse back into its familiar groove, and finally the hard-hitting knowledge that the reality is… the superficial meaningless small talk is all you two really share now.
And how is that like writing? Because while I’m writing about how I feel, it’s just the surface of it. And because of that..It’s occasionally incredibly unsatisfying. I don’t get the complete response that sometimes I so desperately desire. Sometimes, I just need to get it all out. And when I’m done, I know it’s perfect. Because it’s how I feel and it’s all out in front of me and who cares what anyone else thinks. It’s my words. It’s my truth. And that’s all that matters.
But other times, I write for a specific person. I write with the hope that they not only read my words but take them to heart. That my words change them. That they realize.. you know what? Maybe she’s right. And it doesn’t matter how flawless and perfectly scripted of an essay I create when I write for someone in particular. When I don’t know their reaction, or if they read it at all, it’s like an itch that never gets fully scratched.
Have you ever written a letter to someone? One of those exercises where you are supposed to get all your thoughts on paper, get it all out, but then never actually send it to that person? And yeah, you do feel a little better when you are all done. It really was a little bit therapeutic and stress relieving, but I bet you 10,000 yoga mats you’d be lying if you didn’t agree with me when I say doesn’t a piece of you always wonder how the receiver of said letter would react upon reading it? What they would say? I mean yeah, you don’t actually want to send that letter. It’s too personal. It’s too raw. It’s too honest. And it’s too hard to let anyone get that close to you with no immediate promise that there won’t be impending rejection involved after they digest your words. But at the same time.. there’s always that hanging what if.
and THAT is the itch that never gets properly scratched that I am trying so hard to convey.
Mostly I say all of this, not because I have any intention of changing my writing style but because I want YOU to understand that there is always more to every story. The truth is never black and white. The truth is multi-faceted. And sometimes, the only way to be completely honest is by not saying the truth at all. Which is why saying how I feel without saying how I feel is a challenge that I actually immensely enjoy.
But for once, I’m not going to try to level with an anonymous, faceless crowd to help them find their own truth out of metaphorical lessons I craft up.
I’m just going to be honest. Really honest. So here’s a letter. A letter I’ll actually send. The truth:
I don’t care anymore if you read this. I write for you all the time. But the sad truth for me is, is that you’re that person. That one-dimensional surface level one-word conversation person. You know, the weather and hows life and see ya around. That person I used to know. And I’ll never know your reaction and finally, finally that’s ok with me. I’m finally ok with the itch. I don’t need the scratch. Because mostly…I just don’t care anymore.
And that’s the truth.