May 18, 2010

Youth Envy

Posted in Life as I live it at 10:02 pm by A Witty Fool

Was on the train earlier, sat down next to a small group ( 3 deep) of girls, teenagers, maybe about 14 or 15 year olds. One of the girls was crying. Apparently, she had just been dumped and was completely broken hearted, wailing and lamenting.

“I cant believe he dumped me. I didn’t even do anything! And he didn’t even say why. Oh my God! This is some embarrassing? I love him so much? Why would he break up with me?”

One of her friends tried to console her.

“Its okay Trisha*. He is a jerk and he wasn’t even that cute anyways.”

That didn’t help. Trisha kept on tearing up. “ He is too. He is soo cute! Oh my God, why did he break up with me? Did he say anything to you? I love him so much. What am I gonna do? What if he never speaks to me again? What if I never get another boyfriend like ever again?”

The  other (seemingly more jaded) friend chimed in: “oh, Trisha, you so will! You are so pretty and you are cool too. You so will get another boyfriend.”

Trisha was not consoled: “ but I don’t want another boyfriend. I want Tony*. I love Tony, I could never love anybody else, like EVER!”

I couldn’t help it. I smiled. Now, I am sorry that the girl was broken hearted, but mostly, I felt amusement and something else that I later identified as … envy. I was (SLIGHTLY!) envious of the 15 year old who just got dumped by her first love!!

Now I am not some old woman (see image)  sitting back and watching jealously as the young live life. I realized that what I felt envious of, was the depth and the intensity of that young girl’s emotions, even the sympathy of her friends carried an air of intensity. I can’t not remember the last time, I felt so hurt, so heartbroken, about anything.  I was envious of them because they were feeling their emotions, in that deeply intense way that only the really young ever really do.

I would NOT for all the Tea in China (plus half the Tea in Great Britain as well) want to relive my teenage years. They were great and great fun, however, we grow out of them for a reason. That being said, I do miss some aspects of youth.

For instance, I miss the intensity with which you feel EVERY single thing.  Granted, THIS is more than half of what makes youth so painful, but, it is also the main reason, our teenaged years are the most memorable of our lives. All our senses are super-hyped and our emotions are on overdrive. Every high is high, high, high and every low seems to reach to the very depths of our souls. As a youngster (oh my God, I just said “youngster”!) every love is TRUE and all friendships are FOR LIFE.  Your dreams are so real, so vivid, so close and in such vibrant colors that you do not for a second doubt that all you have to do is reach out forward and grab them. You see your life just the way you want it to be and NOTHING in the world could ever shake your conviction that the life you see for yourself is the eXact one that you are going to get.

I also miss the innocence and the naivety of youth. You know that feeling, where everything is new, interesting, fun, funny, good and true. Sure it leaves you vulnerable, but it also leaves you unencumbered with the restraints that cynicism can place on you. You love, trust and feel with a genuine realness.  As an adult though, trust is shakable, sometimes, very easily so and truth is relative, but in youth, trust is absolute and truth is unwavering. I guess I envied that girl the absolute conviction she had in her love and the eternity of it. I mean, sometimes, I don’t even know if I would recognize love if it walked up and bitch slapped me.

And Faith. Boy do you have faith! In God, in yourself, in your family, in your friends, life, everything! I remember my youngest sister at about six years old, waiting on the front porch. I asked her what she was doing and she said she was waiting for her “doggie”.  Apparently, she had prayed to God to get her a dog and she was waiting for it to show up. … she got the dog, but that is a story for another blog.

Anyways, I got off the train, but not without looking back to the crying girl for one last time. She had made me fall back into the concentrated joys and highs and the extreme lows of first love, and the powerful and seeming eternal bonds of friendships, the way everything had seemed so powerful and HUGE and great and destined. I guess I she just made me miss the intensity of my passions from that time when reality and life had not yet gotten in the way.  I envied her that and I kinda wish I could have told her so. 

This may be what they mean when they say youth is wasted on the young.

* names changed to protect my ass.


May 14, 2010

which would YOU rather have?

Posted in Life as I live it, status, Uncategorized at 7:51 pm by A Witty Fool

Peace or Freedom?

May 4, 2010

Mr. Almost, doesn’t count

Posted in Life as I live it at 7:17 pm by A Witty Fool

I have been a big reader for as long as I can remember. Matter of fact, my earliest memory is of sitting in front of our car garage, on a low bench stool … and my short lil’ legs could still not reach the ground… and reading something.

Thru my most formative years, I spent ALL of my free time reading the only books that where available to me… ROMANCE novels, specifically, the Mills & Boon (which all of you fellow book ‘hags’ will fondly recall and refer to as M&B). M&B made no pretensions, it was what it was, unapologetically romantic ….. with a CAPITAL Romance!

In the M&B universe, the ‘Sheik’ was always, tall, dark, handsome, seductive, sexy, masterful but sensitive, arrogant but sweet and against all odds he always, loved the foreign girl enough to risk his throne and kingdom. The leather wearing, bike riding, bad boy, was also, always tall, dark and handsome, secretly a CEO of his own company, millionaire, who was just passing thru town when fate intervened and brought him to his Soul mate…. the mousy, timid, beautiful-but-doesn’t-know-it librarian.

The sex is always mind blowing,

The guy is always multi-dimensional (example: arrogant, but exhibiting moments of humility and modesty)

Compromises where never made, because love demands ALL or nothing and all was always given.

The guy is always (note I said: ALWAYS) over 6 feet tall, well built, handsome, rich, tough but gentle, with a great sense of humor evident especially in his ability to laugh at himself.

Now, I never read Cinderella, Snow White, or all of them other fairy tales and while I would never claim to be a feminist, I still sneer a bit (ok, a lot) at the idea of a Prince Charming riding in to rescue the damsel in distress. Which is why, I was caught of a bit of guard by my own self yesterday.

 I had been online chatting with a male (married with children) friend of mine, when he accused me of looking for Mr. Perfect, adding that anyone who was looking for the “perfect” partner would end up old and alone, because all we would ever get, was “almost”, so instead of looking for the perfect guy, I should be looking for the guy who was “almost” the right one, because that is the closest that I (or anyone else really) would ever get to it. That is, instead of Mr. tall, dark an handsome, I should be looking for Mr. Almost as tall, a lil’ bit tanned and almost that handsome. Instead of Mr. Romantic, I should accept Mr. At least I get flowers on my birthday, etc… y’all get the idea.

I was thrown because until then, I hadn’t realized just how much my earlier M&B years had influenced and shaped my idea of the man I wanted to marry. ( I turned down a marriage proposal once because he “didn’t do it right” and THAT should have been a hint, but I guess I can be a bit obtuse…. but I digress). I thot about being with my “almost” guy and it completely freaked me out because I realized that I didn’t want him (Mr. Almost). I wanted the leather wearing, motorcycle riding, tall, dark, handsome, rich, arrogant, but humble, stubborn but sweet, infuriating but funny, masterful yet gentle, bad boy, CEO of his own company, self made millionaire, Sheik of his own small desert country, that Mills & Boon promised me!

I mean seriously, does anyone know an ‘almost’ bad boy?

Ok. Ok. My idiot moment has passed. … on to a more serious note. I do know the difference between the M & B universe and the real world which I inhabit and while Johnny Depp is taken (oh cruel, cruel, fate!) is it fair of me (to my self and to the unfortunate Mr. Almost) to settle for Almost? I personally think that settling for “almost” is the #1 reason marriages fail at such an amazing rate nowadays but I guess I have ulterior motives behind making that argument.

For me, the idea of Mr. Almost, implies giving up and/or giving in, surrendering to pressure, time, needs or whatever. If you know what you want and what will make you happy, why aim instead for “almost” right? Who ever waited their whole lives for the man/woman who would make them “almost” happy?