“Federal agents don’t learn to spot counterfeit money by studying the counterfeits. They study genuine bills until they master the look of the real thing. Then when they see the bogus money they recognize it.”
- Tim Challies, "Counterfeit Detection"
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my girlfriend and i argue with each other about which one of us will break up with the other. i have never broken up with anyone, yet i've been dumped (pretty badly one time (my car got stolen, and it still had a few grand in payments (and yes, i paid them))) at least four times. that may not seem like many but each of those relationships lasted more than two years, so it feels like many, okay? anyways my point is, i have a record.
and it's weird to be writing this, because i thought for sure i had done away with any concern for my romantic future. in fact i am more free-spirited and present-focused (in that regard) than i've ever been. but as i write this i realize that i really care about what happens to me. i realize i have the potential to be genuinely afraid, of losing something essencial to my happiness. i realize that being dumped is not nearly as terrifying as dumping someone.
i am irrationally afraid of breaking up with someone. and i have never ever been afraid of such a thing until tonight.
what if i change drastically? what if i have to eat every last one of my Nonchalance-Os later? without milk?!
it could happen. people change, and i am one. i could experience something life-changing, heart-changing... ...but i guess the same could happen to anyone at any time. in fact growth should happen to people. and some of them should grow together.
anyways i don't know what's going to happen. but i'm not going to let that keep me from doing what i believe in. i won't let fear paralyze me. actually, my plan is to do its mom, and then describe the experience to it in great detail.
not really... i just couldn't think of something more offensive and immediately recognizable as a serious insult.
~ ~ ~in early august '07, i was sitting alone at my parents' dining room table. it was past midnight. i had stayed up late that entire week, working on a present for my fiancé. the stacking sleep deprivation was doing a number on me, to the point where it was compromising not only my mental acuity, but my emotions also.
i had lit several candles throughout the living and dining rooms in an effort to get into more of a normal late-night-zae mood, but it wasn't working. in fact i was getting angry at the color of the flames... not because they were hurting my eyes, or because i wished they were some other hue. i was just angry at the color, for no discernible reason. but i was determined to finish this gift in time for her birthday, so i kept working.
the longer i worked, the more i started to feel something strange, something extremely rare (for me). i was afraid. not worried, not stressed, not apprehensive... i was terrified. it felt like something was lurking just out of sight, waiting for me to turn my back so it could dart over to me and slice me open.
i don't know why i thought of being sliced, specifically. but it gave me this great idea, which i quickly implemented.
i got up, went into the kitchen, opened the long drawer and pulled out the largest, most horror-movie-prop-esque knife we had. the blade was around 9 inches long. i brought it back to the table, put it down, and then turned my back to it.
and i waited.
AND THEN IT POUNCED just kidding, there was nothing there. which i had known the whole time, and though i was irrationally terrified, i was simultaneously very annoyed that my work had been interrupted. so, after a minute or so of waiting to be murdered, i put the knife back in the drawer and got back to work. oh and i finished the gift on time.
before you ask, the answer is, yes... i do still get booty calls from fear's mom.
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since i'm expecting her to break up with me, and since it makes sense that other people will try to win her affections after i'm gone, and since they may succeed, and since i love my girlfriend... it makes sense for me to invest in that future now. (right now is the second best time to plant a tree.) it makes sense for me to act in such a way that, even after she's left me, she'll continue to benefit from the choices i've made.
so, one of my goals in this relationship i have with her, is to treat her in such a way, that anyone after me who treats her not-as-well as i did, will utterly fail in their bids for her vulnerability and loyalty. my goal is to be better to her than i've ever been to anyone, so that the next person who romances her will have to do at least that well.
i want her to touch, tilt, look at, look through me and see a gold thread woven through, find a portrait of a trusted ruler, feel fine cotton fibers. i want to be the real deal; worth her time; useful in real life; fun to take places; i want her to feel rich because she has me. i want to be feit. i want to surprise her in a good way when she finds me in her pants. metaphorically probably.
i've grown a lot, improved a lot... but i try not to think too highly of myself. i know there are better [wo]men who will pursue her after i do. i want them to do so; and i want her to pick those better people out from the crowd of admirers. after she's left me, i want her to be happier with someone else than she ever was with me.
mathematically, it stands to reason that the happier i make her now, the happier she'll be later, when i'm just somebody that she used to know, some-bahdeeeeeeeeeeeehhhhh
sorry. bedtime. and i'm not gonna QA it like i normally do, soooo report any broken links or misspellings to your friendly neighborhood spiderzae. please & thank.