Oh, snap

Oh, no you didn’t.

Oh, yes you did.

You tore me a new one with your public lecture on love and tolerance, understanding and acceptance.

Let me ask you something…..

was I a safer target because I am not the one paying your monthly bills for you, so you felt entitled?

At least you remembered the first rule of leeches – don’t bite the hand that feeds you

(even though that hand paying your bills for you holds the same views you blasted me for).

Let me ask you something else, Miss Jayna, second iteration……

How’s your grandfather Ken? How’s the decades-old friend Tonya?

Or any of the other half-dozen or so people that I personally know you have cut cold out of your life, not to mention the ones I don’t know about?

How’s that crown of love and tolerance, understanding and acceptance sitting on your self-righteous little head?

You have a lot to learn, Miss Judgmental.

And I, for one, am giving you the room to learn it.

I apologize that I asked anything of you, and profoundly regret doing so.

It will not happen again.

 

536: Endings

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Some things end peacefully, easily, smoothly, calmly. *Some* things end that way, but my life (and my luck) don’t usually work out like that. When something ends, quite often, it isn’t nice. Quite often when something ends, it is downright painful. And no, I am not talking about ordinary, everyday things like the ending of a meal, or the ending of a novel (although, truth be told, I’ve had a few of those cause me some angst, too). The endings I am discussing are a little bigger. Things like relationships, jobs, chapters of life, lives themselves (whether human or animal).

When something big ends, it is seldom a smooth, painless process, even when it is a necessary, unavoidable, or even a healing process. There is still some stuff to sort, and some more stuff to deal with. I always said lessons cost you time, money, or both. That’s true, but they also frequently cost you pain in addition to the time and/or money. Some things are so traumatic they trigger Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, which by the way, has nothing to do with war. It is any traumatic event that you are unable to process and get beyond, and you relive it in all its horror over and over. Thankfully, for most of us, those events do dull with a reasonable amount of time and we can move on. But an accident, surgery, a rape, a mugging – any event that traumatizes you can cause it.

You’d think I’d get used to it by now, these endings, and it would not be such a big deal every time one of them happens. ¬†As if the process and the maturity of understanding it makes it hurt any less.

Meh.

534: I don’t know

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I don’t know.

I don’t know how it will turn out.

I don’t know if time will prove this is the right decision.

I don’t know whether I am worthy of the challenge. I don’t know if you are.

I don’t know how I will feel in five years.

I don’t know how the details will work out, if things will fall into place and make this possible.

I don’t know how others will react.

I don’t know if the results, the rewards, will prove worth the risk and effort it will take.

I don’t know how much time we will have.

What I do know is that I hope, and because of that hope, I commit to you.

For now, and for all the tomorrows I have, every day: my choice is you, and by extension, US.

THAT, I do know.

 

What I hope is good, right, worthy, love, in time, happiness, and YES, for all the time we both have left,

and for all the time to come, even after that.

 

(dedicated to Mr. and Mrs. CINOR (Constantly In Need Of Reassurance)