truthful mistakes

During my post-movie conversation with P last weekend, I admitted that I still had feelings for the doc. And P asked what I was going to do about it. Nothin', I said. What's there to do?

We got into this intense, philosophical/analytical discussion about our adult-selves' cynical approach to relationships (although for awhile I was under the false impression that I was actually quite optimistic). I was surprised by P's question since I didn't think he was ever a big fan of the doc, though he has never met him. But friends are quite protective that way, and once they've witnessed how your heart was broken by someone, they don't forget. Even when I have.

So, anyhow, I didn't think there was much more to say about me and the too-conflicted "Dr. Shephard." But when P's question turned into a three hour conversation, I realized that there was a lot to say. About feelings. Lost loves. Broken hearts. Lessons. And choices. Don't make the same mistakes, I've been told. 'What was the mistake?' is my question.

Of course, our conversation led back to J[], where many lessons were given. And hopefully learned. I realize now that getting involved with him was not the mistake. Although for a long time I thought it was. I scolded myself for having feelings for him. For liking him. Loving him. Even when it was all over. However, the mistake was lying to myself. And in turn, lying to him. The mistake was fear itself. And allowing fear to control me. Allowing fear to control our fate. I thought I was being courteous. And quite considerate. Of his feelings.

I thought I knew what was best for him. And in the end, it turned out to be what was best for him, I told P.

Wow, P said. You rather push him to pursue his dreams than have him be with you.

Yes, I'm not one to get in the way of anyone's dreams. Unless I'm his dream.

Dreams change, P said.

Well, I guess so. It just didn't change to being me.

So, back to the question about the doc. Damn, after three hours, I thought he had forgotten that part already.

Nothin', I said.

At 3am, P was still amazed. Never thought I was one too afraid to go after what I want.

Sometimes the most loving thing we can do for someone is to let them go.

I just don't want to see you go through the same thing again, P said. Make the same mistake.

Letting go of J[] was never the mistake.

Lying to myself was.

And in turn, lying to him.

Those were the mistakes.

Fear of him knowing what was truly in my heart. Fear that I loved him too much. Fear that if he knew how much I loved him, he could hurt me. Really hurt me. Fear that if I ever surrendered to those feelings of love, I wouldn't be able to stand being away from him. Or him ever walking away.

Those were the mistakes.

So, what are you going to do about it? P again asked.

Nothin', I again responded. But be truthful. With myself.

And let him go.