"...He makes my world stop."
Oh. My. God. She said it. Wow. Everytime I watch Grey's Anatomy, I get a warm, fuzzy feeling that lasts me at least a couple of hours. I'm such a junkie that I ritualistically prepare for the viewing by settling in with a pint of Haagan Daaz Dulce de leche ice cream (comfort food), a Diet Coke (pointless) and 3 Tylenol P.M.(to shove my insomniac ass into beautiful, empty sleep). Then I dial up Dr Drew, if I can't be with him in person and together we analyze, appreciate, and 'awww' whilst becoming enraptured by the feats and foibles of spunky young Dr. Meredith Grey. Tonight, however, Andrew is AWOL once again and the melodrama unfolding before me is only adding to my feelings of mid-twenties angst and overall disdain for humankind. Life is pointless. All it is is hurt and eventual death, intermittenly paused and shaken up by those few, select people who can stop your world. My angst stems from the fact that my world has indeed been stopped, and I can't seem to kick the motherfucker back into rotation. And he who hath stopped it, wow. What a joke.
"I don't want you," is a phrase that ranks right up there with "I don't love you." "Start planning the end." "I'm having an affair." "I'm pregnant, but you're not the father." and "Sorry, but the tumor is inoperable." It literally floors you, stops your heart. Stops your world. This is the opposite of falling in love, slow dancing with someone who makes your heart race, murmurring "I want you," on the brink of climax... feelings like that put your head in the clouds...but "I don't want you," well... we've all been there. I won't elaborate. I'm no stranger to rejection, no stranger to hurtful words and angsty arguments, but somehow this is different. Somehow, this from him hurts more.
"We're out of oranges, try these tasty nectarines."
"I don't want nectarines. I want oranges."
"I'm sorry ma'am, but all we have here are nectarines."
Yet more proof that life is predictable only in its unpredictability, that nothing is concrete, nothing is constant except for God in the stormy sky and His sad sense of humor. "Thanks a lot," I say when I pray. "Thanks a lot, you crazy man"! You sure pulled a fast one on me!" God laughs as the thunder crashes and He explains that if He'd have meant me for light living, He wouldn't have made me so sturdy. "Yeah and on that note, thanks for snail-like metabolism after turning 27, too!"
"I'm sorry, but we don't seem to have this dress in pink. Perhaps you should try the white"
"I don't want the white. I want this dress in pink."
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but it's really the only other option."
I think of things that might make me feel better, like smoking 8,000 cigarettes or going on an unhealthy diet, or an exspensive shopping spree or impaling myself on a piece of cutlery or something, just a little something dangerous to spice it up, a little something to make me feel. Because truth is, I've been living my life by means of avoidance lately -- shutting off my phone, neglecting emails, sleeping for 14 hours a day instead of talking to friends, not working, because let's face it kids. Does anyone really want to dial up a friend only to have the following conversation take place?
"Hey! How are you?"
"Shitty."
"Oh... really? That bad, huh?"
"Yeah, that bad. Want me to lie?"
"No... but....I mean, what's going on?"
"Well, I hate life. I'm out of my routine. I've gained ten pounds. I'm on the verge of going nuts, I have friends that are ho's, My dad is not well and I yearn for adult conversations. I'm just overall kind of lonely and desolate and hopeless."
"That's too bad...."
"Yeah, and to top it all off, HE DOESN'T WANT ME."
"Oh Jesus. Well, you don't really want him, do you?"
"Ugh. I wish. I wish that was the case, but no. I do. And he's the only one. You know, he makes my world stop, and all of that. Ugh. Does anyone have a light? So uh... hey, yeah, how have you been?"
I don't want my friends to see me like this. I'm the spunk! I'm the comic relief! I'm wild and wacky! A downtrodden, life-beaten, victim-stancing, woman-scorned Amaya just doesn't pack the same punch. So rather than smile on, and lie, or mope and cry and usurp pity, I disappear, hoping desperately that I'll find some way to fix me in the interim.
Sometimes I think it's God's cruel trick to make the most blessed people in life the most helpless and emotionally fragile. Lookie here, I got this great, two-parent nuclear family, good teeth, great hair, skin that tans without burning. I've also got brains and money, and that being said, I'm about as self-reliant as one of Paris Hilton's chihuahua babies. It's time to grow up, but no one ever said it would be so hard. People have been cleaning up my messes and neutralizing my mistakes for so long... so long, my good fortune has to have ended sometime. And so it is, I've exhausted my resources and it's just me and the Big Man Upstairs. We haven't been close for some time, I'm a stranger in His House, but we still talk occasionally, like two people who've seen an amazingly close friendship melt away into awkward acquaintanceship. Yet, there are times when I'm so scared, so lonely, so devoid of hope that I can't resist looking him up.
Sacreligious, maybe. But I like to think that God is whatever you want Him to be, whatever you need Him to be, just so long as you actually need Him. And there's no way I'm going to trust my fragile heart to yet another pale-eyed white male who wants to play the martyr and pass judgment and smite me and all of that. Because at the end of the day, what I really want, what I really need is someone to say "Hey, there's a reason for all of this. Hey, I haven't given up on you yet. Hey, I've got a plan with YOUR name on it!"
So you can be assured, quelled, pacified.... so you can muster up the strength to go on... so when you're still up at 3 am, drinking a glass of wine on the balcony, you know you're not alone. Not even when your fat jeans don't fit, not when you're miserable and friendless and ready to drive your car into passing traffic. Not even when you're out of Percoset and crazy.
Not even when he doesn't want you.
I am not alone.
