Aftermath, part deux
Apparently my last post was written a little too early.
On a whim, I tried sending Jona an email two days after we had our little talk. I was not expecting her to reply at all.
Imagine my mild surprise when she wrote back. She was happy I was "back," and just like that, we were talking again. It certainly felt odd and surreal, but I can't say it didn't make my day. I guess I'm very lucky she still indulged me in my request to get to know her better, despite the trouble my stunt had caused.
I'm not being too optimistic, but I just might have a chance with her yet and I have to start by making her comfortable with me. Unfortunately, that means I have to learn how to shut up and hide things, so this is probably the last you'll read about all this.
For once, in my six years of writing, I wish my blog was less conspicuous.
The recent events have got me thinking about just how different I am compared to a lot of people at work. People say I have guts for being as open as I am, revealing this much about myself online. Tita Vik being one of those people, I replied half-jokingly that "guts" is a euphemism for "naivete" or "stupidity."
The truth is, my honesty and openness are two things that tend to get me in trouble. While friends at work say I shouldn't be thinking too much and that I should enjoy, I can't help but think I should start to learn how to put on a few masks. I'm starting to have my fill of being this transparent, especially because now it can have disastrous consequences for other people I care about.
It's a little sad, especially because the origin of the word sincerity is the Latin phrase sine cera---literally, "without wax," and when actors used to wear masks, they were usually made of wax way back when. Unfortunately, it seems things can proceed a little easier at work without being as involved and as honest as I am. It seems I'm the only dinosaur left who hasn't yet learned the lesson that sincerity is a switch that can be turned on and off.
Never too late to start, I suppose. Professionalism and all its obstructive trappings can really suck, but I have to do what the Romans do now that I'm in "Rome" myself.
I did not expect it, but I had a brief taste of one of those things I always wrote about in this blog that I wanted. For a few fleeting moments I became stupidly happy.
My friends have told me it's a little too late for me to get to that point now. But I can't deny I felt some of that unbearable lightness of being, and it's like a really exotic drug.
I want my fix.
But I do have to wonder: how much of it do I have left in the bottle of my life?
Thoughts of you come back to fill me with gloom
Time forgets, but I'm not over you yet
There's no sense in asking why
Until the tears run dry
There's no one but you on my mind
Searching for a perfect ending that we'll never find
If we could make it work this time
Years have gone by since you've been gone
This broken heart of mine's been waiting too long
All alone, without you I can't carry on
There's no sense in asking why
Until I'm there by your side
There's no one but you on my mind
Searching for a perfect ending that we'll never find
If we could make it work this time
We could plant tomorrow's dreams now together
In a garden to last forever more
All the flow'rs would grow
From the seeds we sow
There's no one but you on my mind
Searching for the perfect ending that we'll never find
If we could make it work this time
There's no sense in asking why
Until the tears run dry
I could be there by your side
If you would only change your mind
If we could make it work this time...
- Swing Out Sister, "You on My Mind"
No comments:
Post a Comment