I don’t like the way tears look. Regardless of who they are
coming from. I have an intense urge to immediately stop what I am doing and fix
it. I want to plug the leaks in your face with good feelings and comfort food.
I want to fix whatever it is that has a person so overcome with emotion that
their body signals others to help. It is a brief moment of fear and of terror.
Even worse are the tears that you cause. Because you know that at some point
you could have prevented them. At some point you were so overwhelmed with your
desire to be right or prove that you could hold your own in a battle of douche-baggery
that you lost sight of the emotions at play in the room, or worse yet, didn’t
care. You could have thought a little harder or paused a little longer so that
you could hear the emotions rising to a breaking point. Instead you pushed
through the panic and the deafening sound of a spirit crying for a brief
reprieve.
A few days ago I caused tears to flow and it hurts the same
way every time. I wish myself back to that moment and see myself acting in a
manner contrary to the way I feel and what I believe. I want to stop time,
punch my shadow mirror-self in the bean bags and tell him to stop and think for
a minute. BUT..instead I reacted in a moment of frustration, found an answer to
my question and a solution to my problem but at the price of someone else’s
feelings. Perhaps if I was more honest of a person it would curb my tendency to
hold everything in until it escapes in an outburst of annoyed sarcasm. But I’m
not. I am not an honest person in conversation. Which is pretty damn ironic
considering that I claim to study communication as a discipline. However, I don’t
often claim to be good at what I do so I suppose the logic follows pretty well.
I am honest in life and aspire to be truthful in most everything I do, but as
hard as I try I am not an honest person in conversation. Am I afraid of the big
discussions because of the chance I have of making someone feel inadequate or
underappreciated or because I am so uncomfortable with my own self that I can’t
put up with a moment of true honest thinking between two acquaintances.
If you really think about it, I should be able to tell
someone that they do a terrible job at something. I shouldn’t have to sugarcoat
that. Chances are pretty good that they already have a clue that I might feel
that way anyway. But I do sugarcoat things. I put a positive spin on it and a
joke on either side of the criticism in order to soften it. I am afraid to give
honest feedback because of the chance that I may come across as a sarcastic
malcontented ass with little concern for a person’s self-esteem or well-being.
But really, the reason I am telling you that you sucked in that moment (NOTE: “in
that moment” not “sucked always and forever as a person”) is because I do care
about your well-being and about your self-esteem. Likewise, you should care
enough about yourself to not have to be cuddled and buttered up in order to
hear that you do something poorly.
Now I am not advocating for the permission to relentlessly
berate those who answer to me or to mercilessly go about destroying the
self-worth of those around me. I am simply advocating for a more honest back
and forth between myself and them. I want to get all of my relationships to a
point where I can tell you that you suck and you can look at me with strength
behind your eyes and agree, but then resolve yourself to not suck as badly
tomorrow. Simple to wish for, difficult to achieve.
Despite the scene I described, I think that my
relationship is still intact. However, I can’t get that moment back and really
when I think about it, I believe this whole writing may be motivated out of
guilt. Which brings me to my next conundrum…Why in the hell do I feel guilty that you are bad at something? And round and round we go…
