Driving and Crying (Boys and Girls part III)

Last week I had a breakdown that I brought on myself. I admit that. I say it loud, and I say it clear. I climbed into a hole and then started crying about how unfair it was that I was down in the hole. Luckily, I have friends that kindly point out to me where I am and why I'm there. I started climbing out very slowly throughout the week, and then I let go this weekend, and plummeted to the bottom again. But this time, after about twenty minutes of crying, I figured out a better tactic for climbing out. Here goes:

God, isn't it hard to be alive? I mean, honestly...it's incredibly difficult, and "difficult" isn't even a sufficient word. We play so many games with each other. Every minute of every day, we're playing some sort of game. Tip-toeing over words and customs, holding our breath for hints on what step to take next, building foundations on expectations and disappointment.

I've never sat alone in a car with a boy that I couldn't have kissed without any consequences. There have been too many times that I have sat quietly, trying to guess the next step. Then there were the times when I just leaned forward and kissed him myself. Every single time, he, whoever he was, leaned into it. There would be the deafening silence of each of us holding our breath. The rustle of our clothes as we shift in our bucket seats mixes with the next breath, and we both sink, with a sigh, into each other's embrace.

And these are the times that we don't have to work for. These are the times when we throw caution to the wind.

I've spent so much of my life terrified that I'm not getting it right. Tied up in knots wondering what step comes next or which step I missed. When the reality is, not a single moment of moderation or negotiation matters one bit. And NO ONE knows. Not even me, most of the time. I mean, I know, but I forget. We all do, and we tumble down the mountain with noting to hold onto. I used to always think that I was the only one tumbling, but when I stepped back and looked more carefully, I saw everyone falling, tumbling, chasing each other down the mountain.

The next step is up ahead, unseen. The games we play and the characters we unwittingly represent in those games are of no use in reality. My head and my heart want to tell the truth, and as long as I live in the truth, there is nothing that can really frighten me.

I am struggling with my own insecurity. I can see you struggle with yours. When I let go, a little bit of the deep seated anger in my heart dissolves, and I am able to pick myself up off the floor. When you let go, we get to help each other.