Read the quote and let it inspire your post: “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel”. -Maya Angelou
How I feel right now:
I think a lot of people read the quote and think “YES!” but when I read the quote I see red. Halfway through trying to understand the source of my sudden blogging rage I realized that I’ve already blogged about this quote:
I remember what you say
Your words roll off me: water to my oil.
I feel them as they slide across my skin.
Even when they are gone, there is a path left behind.
A trace of what was there.
The hollow words are the hardest to forget.
Their emptiness resonates.
Their frequency harasses.
An incessant drone.
I long for them to evaporate along with their meaninglessness.
I remember because its always the same.
Heaven forbid there’s ever a new perspective.
I want to grind your broken glasses under my heel.
Crush your mutilated view of reality.
Everyone else sees the painful truth.
You should too.
I will not forget what you say.
I will remember what you did.
Or didn’t do, as the case may be.
As hollow and fragile as an overinflated balloon.
Where’s my pin?
How will it make you look?
How will it make you feel?
How can it be more about you?
I thought it was supposed to be about us.
Or had you already forgotten the intended recipients of your kindness.
A certain kind of self-indulgence.
I will not forget what you did.
I’m still waiting for it to happen.
Its easy to forget how you make me feel.
Anger, irritation, frustration, maddening rage
are replaced with nothing.
I shake my head,
I roll my eyes.
I shrug my shoulders in resignation.
You cannot make me feel anything.
When the first twinge of emotion starts I put on the glasses.
The ones I reserve just for you.
I don’t see what you see.
I never will.
But I see you through a different perspective.
If I didn’t, I would hate you with every fiber of my being.
I will not forget the things you say.
Or the things you promise to do.
And I will still feel nothing.
It’s been almost two years and I’ve gotten rid of the glasses. The picture isn’t as pretty but at least I can finally see it clearly. You know the blinding light first thing in the morning when everything is at it’s sharpest? The light that brings tears to your eyes because it’s so strong?
That’s how clearly (and painfully) I’m seeing things right now.
I love my little space on the Internet. I love sharing photos of my family, tales of our adventures, my
neurotic-Type-A inspired Tidy-Up Tuesday projects. I love the connections I’ve made with others through my blog. I love that it gives me somewhere to write, something I’ve loved to do since I first figured out how to spell simple three letter words and accompany my short (really short) stories with pictures. Now I spew 1000′s of words at a time and could add 143 photos to every post I write.
Despite the 54 posts rattling around in my head I don’t know what to write next. The last six months have been possibly some of the most stressful that I can remember in the last ten years. I’ve shared a minutia of those experiences here on the blog but most of it gets dumped in tear-filled conversations with friends and family. My little family of five is fine but we’ve born the brunt of ‘circumstances’. The stories are mine, many of them personally so, but I’m not the only character and so the tales remain hidden away from prying eyes.
I am tired of feeling guilty. Tired of the unrealistic expectations of others. But those are my feelings and trying to own them instead of accusing others of making me feel something.
I am at peace. Content with the life I have. There is no more ‘the grass is greener’.
I am irritated at hypocrisy. I’m eye-rollingly annoyed at memories of ‘you’re wrong, we’re right’. My how the tables have turned. I’m owning my irritation and my distorted belief that people should apologize for hurtful things they’ve said and done.
I am confident I’ve made the right decisions. I’m living without regret.
I am disappointed in others and at the same time disappointed in the expectations I’ve had of other people. If you don’t expect anything, you can’t be disappointed.
I am happy. I love my little family. My job. My friends. My life. I want to share that happiness with whoever wants a slice of it.
I am angry. I still choke on the anger. Sometimes it creeps up and sometimes it’s a tsunami. I’m angry but I chose see things from the perspective that I did. No one made me angry.
I still see red. Blinding, bright, raging red.
But there’s no other colours there too.