Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Counting Chickens while Smelling Roses

She... was a pair of rose colored glasses.

And I consider myself fortunate to get to wear her for a time.

When I put her on, the colors and images were brilliant but I could eventually see the surface of each lens and the wear and tear they've been subjected to. There was one small, almost unnoticeable crack in the corner. A dark crack that I became fearful would catch dirt periodically, or worse, spread like a spiders web, threatening all that I see.

So I struggled with my fears and looked past the crack, and the images I saw were startling.  Brilliant colorful tattoos, a beautiful, photogenic smile, a sweet inevitable "whoop" forever preserved within the annals of recorded YouTube history.

Within the bright flash of reflected light is a happy glimpse of both Daniel and Angela, each in their own lens, smiling, vibrant and full of life. Each with their own heart affecting struggles and each a beautiful result of determined and vigilant parenting.

Brilliant parallels between a daughter and her father. A unbreakable bond steeped in unconditional love and appreciation for each other. A relationship where patience, love,
logic and reasoning were oft practiced. Ironic when compared to the darkly frayed relationship between mother and daughter dwarfed by a history rich in tragedy and sorrow. In the background lies another, distant family headed by her brother with whom a complicated, sometimes volatile bond hangs on for dear life.

Other, unapologetic samples of past relationships litter the landscape. Failed way points with seemingly important life and love lessons rationalized from each like a pillaged carcass. The story of each told with no small excitement to recount her "been there, done thats"; she was her greatest historian. More than a few times that dark crack became noticeable, exposing the ugly truth of my jealousy of ghosts with no more claim to her present than I held over her future.

With this flaw present in my character, I began to write checks with my intentions that my heart eventually couldn't cash.  My rose colored glasses became clouded with doubt and ballooning insecurities borne from my own complicated past.  I dwelled on what seemed all the right things and procrastinated on the most important thing (communication). With no progress to be enjoyed, before I knew it I got good at spinning doom, living on an unhealthy diet of assumptions (all negative) and torturing myself with ridiculously realistic nightmares of my unworthiness.

It wasn't all gloom and doom. There were insanely fun and happy times which is what made the need to separate from a such a torturous "union" such a desparate and essential bid for self preservation. With the distance of time, an accepted engagement to another and..., well... the distance from her moving, I can honestly scratch my head at the impossibility of pin pointing any one single element as the driving force behind our misfortunate end.

But I can also be happy, glad & greatful for knowing her.

And down the road I go.

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