Dangerous Compassions

the question is the answer

They say hindsight is 20-20, but I look back on lots and lots of stupid things I’ve done and can’t decide what I should have done differently.

Should I have said goodbye to that asshole after two months?  Four months?  When did the bad behavior get bad enough?  There are a lot of points where I could / should have made a different decision.

Everyone else seems to know what they should have done differently.  But I see everything all connected, like a huge spider web covered in dew, the cranky spider scowling in a corner, saying, “Don’t fuck with my web.”

How could I change one thing without changing everything?  I know it’s a thought experiment.  I’m trying to learn from my mistakes and see what I could have done better, so I can feel ok about the future.  I should forget about the spider.

The good and bad is all mixed together.  I might have a better idea in a few years.  I can curse the day I met someone.  But really, I needed certain things they gave me, which is why I jumped into it in the first place.

I really have no idea, what I should have done differently.  Maybe I need some special past-glasses.  Hindsight seems like I’m legally blind, honestly.

This morning I was lying in bed, crying-scared of my own feelings, the vulnerability and trusting people.  Loving people.  I was touching my own arms and telling myself, “You’re ok.  Your feelings are ok.  I trust you.  I trust your feelings–you’re good.”

I was listening to me say these things to me, and having a hard time believing myself, honestly.  I’ve led myself down some really shady paths.  I’m talking maximum shady.  I’m telling you–the trees were thick and curved all the way over the path menacingly.  It was a very scary path tunnel in the dark.  The moonlight was not really getting thru.

I want to say my mistakes were learning experiences, I’m glad for what I learned, and I’m stronger now.  Lots of optimistic cliches.

But can I trust myself, with myself?  I guess I don’t really have a choice.

I was trying to explain to a stranger on a zoom, the other day, how if you have a fault, you can embrace your fault and it can be your strength.  I’m really into how the problem is the solution.  Two sides of a coin.

If you’re really bad at tense, in stories, then write stories where flashbacks and regular time are all mixed together, and make it a lovely feature, rather than a flaw, right?  Become the queen of that.  Be the expert on messing up the tense, until there’s a wikipedia article about mixing up tense that cites you.

If I am too emotional and make weird choices and get in to trouble too much, could that be my feature?  Maybe I can say that’s me, it’s ok, apologize a lot afterward, to everyone who watched me drag myself thru the mud, and start over.

Another strength I have is my resilient naivety.   Or naive resilience.

Well, sorry to everyone who’s watched me drag myself thru the mud.  Thank you for forgiving me and smiling appreciatively afterward.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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