I feel an intense longing for certain people to be people they aren’t, for them to transform into the exact person I always wanted (needed) them to be. And then I realize I can’t change them, and that my task is to accept them as they are. I’m to make peace with the things they aren’t.
It’s a strange thing, to love someone for their highs and try to also love their lows. I find myself trying to erase the lows to preserve their character report card, myself the almighty professor in this twistedly biased moral academy. I find myself making excuses for the lows, or somethings exaggerating the lows to justify my own wishes to withdraw. But then I see the all the skills the excel at and realize I can’t choose the parts I want and discard the parts I don’t want. I can’t pick and choose. I must accept.
I find that difficult, though. And because I find it difficult, I know I’m being self centered. It’s the same self centeredness that gives me such a visceral reaction to discover I’m being talked about by others without me in the room. Its carnal, the way I want to control the narrative about how I am and what my intentions are. Why can’t I let myself be misunderstood, villainized, ranted about or even used to sadistically bond over?
Stalwart: adjective, describing something very hardworking, gritty, relentless, dedicated.
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