Perhaps, if I were a perfect person I might have held my tongue. For there is great wisdom to be found in silence. Yet even so, when I spoke I never wanted to hurt anyone with my words; least of all friends and loved ones. I only wanted to express my pain; to alleviate my suffering a little bit; and to share my soul.
This has been a year of bewilderment. My beliefs and my opinions, and even my actions, have been the cause of pain and suffering for many others whom I love. Some of these dear souls no longer want to talk with me, after decades of sharing together. Other dear ones have kindly said that my expressions cause them too my pain, and they must turn away from me to protect themselves.
And I always thought I was generally a good person, oh my! But on the contrary, I have discovered that I’m not apparently as good as I had believed; at least by the standard of many whom I love. Some of these have argued with me, they have called me names, they’ve accused me of stupidity, callousness, and unlove. Some have even backed away in my presence, essentially running from me (in terror). Have you ever read Frankenstein? It is an excellent novel…and now I understand a little how that wretched creature felt.
And now, some of these loved ones no longer want to be near me at all, and some may never allow me to come close to them again. And this is a heartbreak! It has torn me asunder. And yet, I could remedy all of this in an instant. If only I would do what they ask, if only I would think as they think, if only I would believe as they believe. If only I would do these things, then everything could be made right again. Don’t I see that it is my own fault? Don’t I understand that I am the one that has brought all of this upon myself?!
Certainly I do blame myself. I don’t want these people, who I care about, to be in distress. I feel very badly about that. I like people; I even love them, quite a lot. So it is a conundrum to discover that my true self is the cause of such suffering in those I love. Shall I just change myself? Perhaps who I think I am is only an illusion, or a lie, and it is simply a matter of coming to a better understanding of myself. Then all can be made right again. But what if this really is me; what hope is there then of reconciling with those who are so disappointed in me, who fear me now, or pity me, or shake their head saying: “He used to be such a good guy…remember when he was smart, and when he had so much potential? Oh, what a shame!”
I have heard these things said, and I’ve taken them to heart. And this is why my heart is in such a shambles. Shall I think and do what they want, and thus (supposedly) make the world a happier place? Or shall I stay true to my inner self, hold fast to my convictions, and maintain some integrity? If I love myself, I would say I should do the latter. Others would say I should do the former, and capitulate, if I really love anyone other than myself.
This is the very definition of a conundrum. It is said that love never fails. My love must be weak; and this must be why my heart is failing these days.