Setting the Record Straight

When a joke needs to be explained, it loses the punch that made it funny in the first place. The same can be said for blog entries, the funny kind or otherwise. For the first time since I started this blog, I'm starting to feel sort of misunderstood. It recently dawned on me that putting my thoughts on the web in a public forum leaves them open for any number of interpretations. For the most part those interpretations have been correct, but on an occassion or two what I meant wasn't what was perceived. If it's a joke involving myself that someone takes a bit too seriously, then I could really care less. But more often than not, I am not the only person who is featured in my posts. To be fair, I wouldn't want to misrepresent any person or situation in order to tug at reader's emotions. Unfortunately, without my intention, the previous post Savior did just that.

While my blog definitely chronicles my life as I know it and everything I write is true, all that I write is not necessarily an indication of current feelings. Sometimes a song, conversation, or something I've read reminds me of my past. All of the memories turn into words that beg to be written. So I write them and post them here, not necessarily because I'm still a wreck about the situation, but because I just need to get the thoughts out of my head and into something concrete. I try to preface these stories with words like, "I used to," or "A few years back," or even "Once upon a time." But often times the past tense gets lost in translation. Trust me when I say that I am not as depressed as my blog reads.

Other times I choose to use my own experience to make a point regarding a larger idea. That's what I was trying to do in Savior. I meant the last line to be ironic and funny, to sum up the moral of the story in a tidy little package. Instead, it made me seem bitter and covetous, which I am not. I really don't feel like going into the whole story, but I would like it to be known it wasn't selfless benevolence, but a calculated strategy to worm my way into his life and eventually his heart. I convinced myself that if he saw that I was the one who cared the most, one day he would care the same way. Yes, he upset me more times than I can count. Yes, we had a tumultuous dynamic for over two years. No, we were never romantically involved. And yep, I did take a load of emotional crap from him without even a hint of interest on his part. Give me a break, I was 18 years old and stupid enough to try and use the friendship to relationship route that has been used on me time and again. Over time, my feelings for him took a backseat to our friendship. I pined, but didn't say a word about it for fear that it would send him running. I realized that even if I couldn't be with him, I still wanted to be his friend. True, he was a difficult friend to have at that time, but I was convinced that I could fix all the things that were broken in him. Eventually, with the help of others, I did and he finally became a human being. I got over it on my own, after a very busy Spring 01 semester, the details of which cannot be devulged (FLS, you know what I'm talking about). By the time he was involved with his now fiancee, I was over him and we had finally settled into a healthy friendship that exists to this day. I will be at his wedding with bells on and if asked, I would even be the flower girl.

Chesty LaRue and I constantly joke about this situation whenever we talk about wanting to change or save a man with whom we are involved. We remind ourselves how well that savior mentality served us in college. That was my point in writing Savior. I wanted to show that it's hard work to be someone's life raft. And even if you can get them to shore, they're probably just going to run down the beach to play with someone else. So don't bother.