from the past (part 1)

Blog entry
July 29, 2008


In my head there are two discreet girls running around, screaming and advertising their opposing view points, banshees with PMS claiming they are the soul's right being. The first is a little obsessed with independence and freedom, and her counterpart is equally concerned with finding someone to lie next to at night.

They fight and twist over issues in my head and beat my brain at every decision point.

The first girl, ragged and raw with a fierceness that surprises me, flicks her hand up in exasperation at my need to have confirmation and involvement and impatiently waves a map of all the possibilities in my face. Taunting and mocking me with her high pitched imitation of my pleas for finding a soul mate and having true love. She criticizes me for looking back and missing the feel of a man next to me at night. She is belligerent that none of them have ever been enough to make the sacrifice of our freedom worth it. She points out their flaws and the mistakes that were made and suggests, slyly and with complete distain for my own ability to choose a good man, how we should never fall for their bullshit again. She wants to jump from man to man, not caring how we leave them and only caring that the need is satisfied for the moment. She is the liberation and the freedom that makes the sex so great. And she is right. I don't need a man to validate me, I don't need to be on someone's arm to look good and I don't need to censor my desires and to fit into someone else's life.

But then the other girl... littler and somewhat quieter, suddenly clears her throat and gently asks, "what the fuck are you doing?" As little as she might be, she is potent. Ever present. You can't ignore her, you can't convince her otherwise and she makes you stop to think. You want to be her, believe her and know that what she wants for you will one day be true. if you could know that, her way would probably be easier on the soul but you can't know and some other part of you thinks that her slight smile looks more sly than sure. She reminds me of the feeling of leaning against someone, someone bigger and broader and someone warm and with arms that hold me tight. She whispers memories of nights that took the nightmares away and kisses that brought dreams from sweeter places. She nudges me and I glance up and see his face, his eyes and that jaw, that mouth that says perfect things and the body that proves they are true. Those shoulders that could bear the weight of both of our worlds and those arms that could withstand all the forces that would pull me away. She looks at me and I wonder how wise she can possibly be. Her answers have no argument just faith. And then I argue with her. He never lasts long and those perfect words come with conditions. And he will force me to do things in my life that I do not want to do and would never choose for myself. He will make me compromise and bend, he will change me and then how will i know that he loved me, truly loved the real me, because i will be changed by his presence. He will love me because he was there and maybe because i thought i could love him. I point out, almost ticking the points off on my fingers for emphasis, children, work, freedom, sacrifice, greater worth, independence.... and yet she is steadfast and undeterred. She looks at me like she knows better, that someday I will see.

I hope/pray/wish that she is right. I know the other is right at the same time and yet, I can't not hope that the other counts for more and that all my arguments appear feeble in the wake of something so great.

But I don't believe her. Not tonight. Not for a long time now. Maybe I have never really believed her, or trying again wouldn't be so hard.

How can I let the second girl be right if I won't risk her being wrong?