It’s a familiar touch, but it’s the wrong hands. It’s a comfortable warmth, but that’s the wrong body, and the kiss is completely off. Some loves end with a wound that’s so deep, instantly burning so sharp and so strong that it cauterizes and you never have to heal.
Conversely, this love is a cancer. The things you enjoy, the things that can make you better, the things that you would hide behind to mask the pain – they all hurt, remind you of what’s been lost: the future you’d hoped for.
This true love makes anything less taste like gluten-free cake or artificially sweetened coffee. The texture is wrong, the flavor is acidic and it just isn’t worth the time or calories.
This love you let yourself feel, depend on, trust showed you everything that you wanted. Offered you everything you’d been praying for and just as quickly revoked it.
So here you find yourself in those familiar hands that feel completely wrong, being kissed by that mouth you know belongs to someone who doesn’t care and trying to pretend that warmth is someone else. Discovering that this love changed you, you can’t make the same mistakes you once did, you can’t turn back and follow those same self-destructive paths and you certainly can’t lean on those same people you know you can’t trust.
Rather than that last love which left you broken, drawn and quartered and sobbing, this love has left you stronger.
Oh, and it makes you want to write silly emotional blog posts.
Right now I am fighting two incredibly paradoxical ideas. I’m torn between feeling cheated that I wasn’t able to know a huge part of my family, the kind of family that has massive gatherings with lots of hugs and chaos and support and being very angry at the family that I do know, that I know will always be there at a moment’s notice to support me in a crisis because they were the ones who robbed me of this other family.
I feel distant and out of place with the family who I saw maybe once a year on Christmas Eve and at the same time I want nothing more than to have all those years back, to be part of that clan and be surrounded by cousins and aunts and uncles who claim that they care and that they really want to be in my life.
I am so incredibly angry at my father for telling me that I drive people away and planting the thought that makes me think every failed relationship is my fault – that I’m inherently unlovable. I hate him for making me have to choose and creating an environment where the only parent I could count on was an unstable alcoholic.
I resent my mother for keeping me away from people who could have been significant forces in my life. I resent her for every birthday I spent with hardly anyone to invite and all the holidays I spent sitting alone with her on the couch while I wish I would be included while my cousins played outside. I resent her for the memories I missed and the fact that because I chose her I spent so many nights cold and alone, stranded and hungry while she chased her boyfriend around the county.
I hate the psychiatrist I was forced to see for being exactly the wrong person for the job and I resent the adults in my life for not making sure I went.
I resent my grandmother for defending my mother’s actions and I resent my aunt for defending my father’s. I resent them all for every awkward morning I started in orchestra with a cousin who should have been a friend when we were afraid to even acknowledge we knew each other.
I am so angry and lost and confused that sometimes I can’t begin to decide what I’m feeling, how to express it or if I’m ever going to be okay.
And I really hate myself for all of it.
With all of that said, if you’re sick of the economy, want true fiscal responsibility from corporations, and would like to see an actual change in the world, please organize protests, cite specific demands, research and educate yourself about our government and the political leaders who participate in it, vote, become a politician yourself, boycott products made by companies you believe are doing things you find unethical, and support those who you think do business correctly.
To begin with I have a number of massive problems with Anonymous, the most prevalent being that it’s an organization growing in number and with enough motivational power to lead thousands of people to sleep in a park in New York City for a couple weeks. I am not saying that a demonstration demanding change is necessarily bad, nor that a group of people actually having the follow through to peacefully demonstrate in a way that is acknowledged by the larger community is anything but positive – under normal circumstances.
Occupy Wall Street is a “movement” in which thousands of people are eagerly participating to demand… what? Perhaps inspired by the many protests of the sixties and tired of the current recession (how long until we’re allowed to call it a depression?), these people are joining and following without knowing what exactly they want to change.
This protest is just one of many events that Anonymous has on the calendar, which brings me back to my original statement that I have many issues with Anonymous. This is an organization that is comprised, at least in portion and most well known for, the troll hackers whose stunts are often less than constructive. It’s an organization that is obviously gaining influence and power,
Let’s take a moment and think about history. When in history were people heavily motivated by someone who released charismatic propaganda, feeding on people’s fear and anger during a time of economic hardship, outlining a plan for massive change, a movement that would make the world a better place without actually discussing what the “Final Solution” was?
If you don’t know what the “Final Solution” is, Google it. Go ahead, don’t be shy.
Anonymous has made it clear by past actions that they aren’t necessarily bound by main stream ethics and Occupy Wall Street is the demonstrational equivalent of someone taking 30 people hostage on a bus and making no clearer demand for their release than, “Yeah, uh, send me stuff I’ll like.”