Thursday, July 26, 2007

Branching Out


This is a picture of my head.

I post it because this is where I live most of the time. Like a house.

And sometimes, I don't always keep a clean house.

In fact, sometimes my head is so cluttered with the shoulds/woulds/coulds of life, that I over analyze myself into a coma.

I question myself, my intentions, my fears, my behaviors.

I fill the house with so much fear and uncertainty that one might think there was a gas explosion that crumbles its entire structure.

I fear most the future. I know - Who doesn't? But I spend so much time wishing I knew what would happen, because I believe if I did, it would make the here-and-now so much less painful.

Most recently, I have obsessed over my ended romantic relationship where the friendship-part still exists, and moreso the fear of letting go and letting the other explore his needs, and then letting myself take a leap into my own new "situation."

Its even harder when the old relationship becomes not just a friend, but a best friend - The type of friend you end up spending your whole summer with riding bikes and climbing trees with like 10-year olds. But the danger is that, when the summer ends, you have to first hand witness the moments in which you stop being the tree-climbing friend, and he starts packing up to move away. It's a loss all over again.

At the same time tree-climbing friend begins on his new adventure, another friend pulls into town - A friend that, while you may not climb trees with, you may lay under the trees and look at the leaves with this friend. You see the tree that you once scaled with glee and fearlessness in a slightly different way. Inside your mind, you mourn this slow change, and you touch the scars on your legs that you got from climbing the bark and the branches. The scars aren't the bad ones - they don't hurt, ever. They are with you forever, a constant reminder of that summer of climbing, and that your friend is still a part of you, no matter how many other friends come into both of your lives.

That no matter how far away that friend moves, its never farther than a bike can travel.

These are the things that live in my "house." Thanks for listening.

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

you are such a good writer i sometimes wonder why you deal with crazy people and instead write avout them.ala this crazy bitch lohan. wrtie a book you would rise to the top sooner than you think

Megan said...

Thanks 'Mo. Perhaps a book is on the way...

Spandex King said...

For me the mental part is the toughest. I'm trying to gather the courage to commit to Ironman Wi 08. My house is full. Can I do it? Do I want it bad enough to put in the time. Am I sure, yes, no, maybe ahhhhh I don't know!!!

Good luck to you, great blog.

Duane said...

Meg, you really area great writer. I love when you share these things with us.

Susan Oseen said...

Everyone wants others to believe that the have a "clean house", don't we. No one really admits to clutter. It's always nice to hear that everyone is in the same boat and has some sort of problem. I hope everything gets a little less cluttered for you, Meg!!

KrissyGo! said...

We are in _exactly_ the same place.

I was getting lonely, but now I feel better.

momo said...

we are so alike with all we keep up there. big j calls it analysis paralysis.

i can sense the turmoil regarding your relationship and how you know its time for both of you to grow. growing doesn't necessarily mean growing separately and distance is only far if you make it so. your relationship has morphed into something you probably couldn't have imagined previously, and its just finding the right balance that is necessary.

hang in there meg. don't push it and things will fall where they were supposed to.

The Big Cheese said...

Very nice. Interesting coming from a head shrink.