The Epiphany

I downloaded the movie “my best friend’s wedding” the other day. I like that movie, always have, and I remembered that I saw it when I was really young and then it was forgotten for a long time, but as I was seeing it I remembered that I was deeply impressed by the movie, for me the message was “you will never be the chosen one, you will love with all your heart but in the end he will always chose another one, another more perfect one and you must find a way to be ok with that because it is as it should be” this became a secret percussion in my mind, my dolls had a incredible sad love life, filled with sorrow and stoicism. Part of it I am blaming on my parents marriage, but I had this distinct and clear idea that a good part of it can be traced back to this movie, so in my mind I think I have conditioned all of my relationships to this, I always braced for disaster. I think I had a much relevant role in their incredible explosive ending then I thought. Maybe I chose things that were meant for failure, people that I knew were leaving and I always knew that it would never work but I guess I craved the confirmation of this prerogative and I allowed myself to get sad when the proverbial shit hit the proverbial fan. This was kind of an epiphany, maybe I deliberately chose things that would blow up on my face just because it was I was wired to expect. I had a boyfriend, he had a million faults and he was a son of a female dog when we broke up, but now maybe, I had a lot to do with it, maybe my responsibility is much bigger, maybe I wasn’t flexible on purpose to see how thinly I could stretch his limits. Maybe I knew all along that doing what I was doing would lead to that inevitable end and I was powerless to stop it just because I wanted to see the result, I wanted to be proven right, I think in the end I wanted the power to say “I always knew this would end like this, I always knew I wouldn’t be the chosen on” more then I wanted to be happy. This is very saddening. I am thorn between being disappointed with myself or being happy that I finally got to the bottom of this question. I will replay this in my head a thousand times until I juice out all the possible meanings and implications of this discovery. In the mean time I will do my best to be happy with the fact that somehow I managed to find people that try to prove me wrong and that maybe now that I know this I won’t make the same mistake, maybe now when I see the headlights I will be able to move out of the way instead of getting hit with the car to prove a point. There is some deep shit going on here.

Dr Phil said

I was just told that due to my lovely temper there is a great possibility that I won’t be able to make someone happy for a long time, the exact words were “I don’t think you can make someone happy, I mean, for a long time. For a little time sure, but not for ever”.  There are only two people whose opinion I even consider, this pearl of wisdom came from one of them of course. I don’t think it is true, I know I can make someone happy, for as long as they make me happy. Fuck her! I feel very immature for letting this get to me, so who cares if she has this misconception about who I am. First, I can be whatever I want, second, I can do whatever I want, so if I want to be happy and to make someone happy that’s what I will do. And by the way, fuck her! I am, probably almost, done with letting others opinions of me influence my notion of self worth. I thought about this and I prefer to be out of touch with reality then to live others realities for me. Who died and made her king of all reason? She doesn’t know shit, and that’s fine, it’s not like it’s her fault, if I don’t tell her who I am then her misconceptions are my responsibility. With that being said, I really have no intention of changing, I am tired of accommodating her needs and her feelings, and I return I just get this lovely feedbacks about what she thinks of me. A lot of people would like for me to want to make them happy, and just because they have no firm grasp of reality that doesn’t mean that I am worthless. Fuck her! You only get so angry when you love someone, and sure, I would love for her to be proud of me, actually I don’t want to aim so high, if she could just stop calling me names I would appreciate it, peace would be enough, I have no need for victory. Dr Phil said “do you want to be right or do you want to be happy?” so I don’t want to be right, I just want to be at peace. Who the hell does she think she is? She is not the omniscient representative for all the reason on earth! She is just a lonely person trying her best, I know it, and everyone else knows it, except her. Don’t you dare try to tell her this, you will be labeled as arrogant and all your posterior opinions will be disregard as the “makings of a madman”. Fuck her. Fuck her opinion, Fuck her ideas, Fuck her need to be right,, Fuck her loneliness, Fuck her misconceptions, Fuck her rudeness, Fuck everything that I don’t agree with. If you have some time to spare, Fuck me as well. 

Much obliged.