2010/05/09 – Mother’s Day

(This is not really about Mother’s Day.)
I’ve come home for the week-end…
I have all these very old files on my computer here, which I have arranged a bit.  Maybe I shouldn’t have saved them…  They remind me of long-lost friends…  I think I have a picture, document, song, chat log, or at least e-mail address saved from everybody I’ve met online in the past decade.
Losing old friends seems very wrong to me.  Some people are able to make new friends wherever they go — but that has a cost.  People are limited with their time as well as their social energy.  You don’t just add new friends; you replace old ones with new ones.
…So why do I save old pictuires and things?  Maybe in seeking permanence, I’m fighting reality…
But then, I also don’t have a steady increase of new friends.  Maybe my very low friendship-turnover rate is sustainable.
Anyway, yesterday, I did what I could to reconnect.  I Facebooked several old e-mail addresses…
…And then, having seen many of her "childhood" pictures amidst my old files, and instead of avoiding thinking about her again, I decided I would test my feelings toward that one I loved, Bomie.
I and my mother had seen her on that day a couple weeks ago when my mother drove me to Provo…  She was walking up the road across from my complex.  I guess she must have been visiting a friend or something in that part of town.
I noticed yesterday on her page that she apparently has gone back to Korea for the summer.
My feelings, anyway…
…were better; positive.  I was only thinking, "I hope she can be happy."
I found that I still missed her, and wished I could be friends again… but I know that’s just an after-effect of the addictive "love" of 2006.
…And that wasn’t the real love, was it?  The real one was later, when I decided, at the end of that year, to choose her despite our differences… because somehow, based on her words and behaviour, I thought she would choose me despite my faults.
Well, it doesn’t matter now.  I guess it was a beautiful story, on my end; a happy dream that I woke up from.  She eventually will need to settle down with somebody.
…Well, I think it was just a random case.  It’s hard to trust people again when the one you love suddenly throws you away — and if there was a warning, you didn’t recognize it at all.  But I think most people won’t turn around like that… and even though I should have waited till I knew her better, maybe that was just her.  Maybe, when I finally meet another one who pretends to like me, I won’t necessarily need to know them for many years before deciding to love them.  I don’t have so much time to wait now as I did then… way back when I was 24…
Ha ha…
Coming on four years later… I see how traumatic that experience was to me.  But I survived it… and now I seem to be happy.
Still, the trauma lingers.  Like the time my swimming teacher at the Olympus pool let me flounder when I lost buoyancy… which made me afraid to ever trust myself completely to the water again… so now, after her, I always doubt others in relationships.
In a way, as with swimming, it’s kept me safer.  The social rejection has continued unabated, as it always does for the normal-looking, and I have been far less affected by it, because I already know it’s a strong possibility.
…And… unlike with swimming… I still try to give people chances, as I did before… although the chances I give are perhaps smaller…
Anyway, I don’t think I’ll find that "right" one I have conceived of.  Though it diminish the race, I may need to settle for somebody normal.  I guess giving my kids a 50-50 chance of being exceptional is better than the all-or-nothing gamble with their very lives that I’ve been playing so far.
Well, I hope she’s happy.  I hope everybody, all those people in my old files, are happy.
Today, in fact, is their day… most of them…
I guess I need to make a prayer list out of them, sometime.  That would help me remember.
I appreciate my religion teacher more than initially, who has convinced me that Catholic mass came from old temple ordinances, and who treats students as peers.
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