I used to be a master at walking down the same street and expecting a different view.
I’d like to chalk it up to youth.
Dating the same boyfriend a second time. He had already shown me who he was. We had broken up. But back I went.
Knowing a certain management style and the havoc it wreaks and yet returning to the fold to be managed that way.
Trying to keep up a friendship for old times’ sake when the old times were not really all that satisfying, something I remembered the second time around.
If I let you/this/that person go, I am empty handed.
Our society does not applaud empty-handedness.
It is terrifying to give up love when no one else is on the horizon.
It is stomach roiling to say “no” to work you know will make you miserable when you do not have another gig yet.
Gut wrenching to realize you do not enjoy time with that old friend any longer and have no one else to fill the void at the moment.
You can stare into the abyss. Succumb to the fear and the screaming meanies in your head. “No love is perfect. Isn’t this love better than no love? You’re asking too much.” Or, “The mortgage/rent/car payment looms. The responsible thing to do is stay the course, even if you’re miserable. Take a chance and you could lose it all.”
Or, you can try faith. I consider myself a faith-filled person but sometimes wonder at choices that make no logical sense. When the voice in my gut says, “Leap. Go.” And the voice in my head says, “Are you flipping nuts?”
I have seen people who have made the “sensible” choice their entire lives. They usually are a dismal shade of gray.
They have never been empty-handed and so have not known the pain and terror of that state.
But they have also not ever known the feeling of an unexpected windfall, a fly ball coming right at your glove, caught solely because you just let go of whatever would have kept you from making the catch.
Hence the gray.
I choose color. Life may prove me stupid and vain. But I choose color.
I’ll let you know how it works out in a couple of decades. Meet me in front of the fire.
I’ll be the one with a warm drink in hand, sharing and listening to some great stories.
Or so I hope.