Mostly I think about people.
I am a people person. I am an extrovert. I get depressed if I spend too much time alone. I think I even cope, by thinking about people. I think about interactions. I think about personalities. I think about memories: moments, laughs, fights, developments. I'm fascinated by people. Interpersonal relationships. They're wonderful and terrible; perfect and completely messy. They're impossible to turn into facts and figures, yet we constantly try. Every person-to-person interaction is different, though they may appear similar. A relationship may seem like it's one you'd never not have, and the next thing you know you're mutually letting go. It's irreparable.
I've been thinking about this lately; I've had a lot of time to myself lately, and so I've been doing a lot of thinking. You could probably guess that I've been thinking about people. (If I'd had more interest in studying and had been more sure of myself, I probably should've majored in psychology.) There are a handful of reasons I have so much time alone lately, one of them is arguably of my own doing. And I've been thinking about it. This is why I don't like being alone, - too much time spent thinking.
I've never been great at standing up for myself. It's always felt like an impertinence. Whether that's personality or growing up as the youngest of six, I don't know, but I still don't really like it. There have been a couple people from whom I've either cut myself off completely, or just strongly backed away, in efforts to protect myself. In my...solitude, for lack of another synonym with more accurate connotation, I've been thinking about this. And I know, by some I've been thought less of because of it. So the question has been haunting me as to whether this is an acceptable practice.
I mean, do we really have to like everybody?
I tend to try not to let someone know if I don't like them; no need to be rude about it, but I'm also not going to give my time to someone who is going to waste it and trample me in the process. My time alone has had me pondering those choices; questioning the existence of a balance. Is there a balance of tolerating the seemingly intolerable because it is the nicer thing to do, and walking away because your heart can't take it anymore? The tolerant, nice side of me keeps coming to the surface with this question, - this doubt rather, that there's never a time to walk away. That walking away is weak.
I think the only glaring difference is walking away without clarity; without answers. I think that's the reason I have trouble feeling okay about those decisions, is because I never had closure. I only hit my breaking point. I found the place where I didn't know what else to do and had to let go without explanation. The other is free to go, not knowing why it was worth it for me to quit.
My sister was telling me, a speaker named Graham Cooke refers to some people as "Grace Growers". I couldn't help but think about that: what if those were my grace growers? Is it possible that I ran out? Just in those moments, and those times, - those relationships, and those people were the unfortunate victims of me not having enough to give them?
All this to say, I've been on the receiving end of The Cut before, and admittedly, I've made the decision myself as well. If ever I come to this again, I hope I'll make the decision with different eyes. I can't say I won't do it again, because sometimes a relationship feels fatal, but I do hope I can avoid this as much as possible in life.
Hold on to the ones that stretch capacity for love and ability to apply grace.
