Sometimes You Have to See for Yourself...

You guys want to know a secret? I think I have an eyeglass fetish. I love women in glasses. I love the whole librarian look. 

It doesn't stop there. I collect reading glasses. I wear readers when I write to help me focus or as an insecurity mask in uncomfortable social situations. They make me feel safe, as if there's an extra shield between myself and the rest of the world. Plus, I think I look sexier in eyewear.

But I don't really need glasses and I don't always wear them.

Then again, if someone ever invents a pair of glasses that reveal a person's true thoughts about me or what they're intentions towards me really are, I'd wear them everywhere I go. 24/fucking 7. 

As you can probably guess, I'm STILL trying to get over my latest heartbreak. I was told so much about how special and important I am and how the only way the connection would be severed was if I did the severing. I was told this was something this friend of mine was willing to fight for and that she never wanted to take me for granted. Then it got progressively harder to get a hold of her and when we did interface, I felt less like a friend and more like one of her business assets.

I felt abandoned so it felt like it was a good idea to stop pouring any more energy or affection into this situation anymore. I left the door open if she wants to try to work on things, but the conditions she'd need to meet are way too demanding. Too demanding for her, but just regular-ass being friends for anyone else.

When I met this acquaintance for the first time, friends of mine who knew the two of us told me in no uncertain terms to keep my distance. She's manipulative, they said. She's crazy, they said. She'll rip out your heart and leave you dead in a ditch (metaphorically speaking), they said. Paid heed to none of them, did I. And I paid the price.

Discussing this with another friend of mine, I was asked if I regretted not listening to the warnings of those with more information than me. You know what? I really don't.

 

Because they are some things you just have to see for yourself.

While I'm heartbroken and more than just a bit bitter, there were a few good things I got out of this trainwreck of a relationship (and friendships are relationships every bit as much as any other types of relationships). For one thing, there were a few weeks there where I felt the best I've felt about myself in years. I felt worthwhile. I felt attractive. I felt like I could set down the biggest millstone that's hanging around my neck: that no woman I could be interested in could ever be interested in me. It was wonderful!

Then there were the lessons I learned from the whole debacle. How not to treat the people I care about most. That "so and so is crazy" is not a good excuse to disappear someone from your life. You know, since we're all fucking crazy to one degree or another? That I throw around "I love you" way to easily and it gets me into trouble, no matter how sincere I am when I say it.

None of these lessons are things I could've learned had I listened to my friends and kept this woman at arm's length. Sometimes you have to do the thing that everyone tells you is stupid. Sometimes you can't take another person's word for it. Because if you do, you don't get anything out of it. And while the lesson hurt like a motherfucker, the experiences you get learning those lessons are totally worth having.

I can hear you. "'Don't take other people's word for it,' eh? That sounds like some Reading Rainbow shit, Bub." And you're right, but sometimes cliches become cliches because they have so much truth to them. 

Which brings us back to those special glasses I was nattering on about earlier. They sure would save me from an awful lot of suffering. I'd suffer so much less. But I would be a lot less wise. I'd miss out on a fuck-ton of life lesson that will greatly improve my life, if I can only adhere to them. So on second thought, maybe fuck those special glasses. Unless they can help me see aliens and their subliminal messages, like the shades in They Live, they'd do me more bad than good.