You know how sometimes, you’re in
this great relationship that you assume is valuable, that you foresee going on
for, I don’t know, forever? You possess this sense of hubris about yourself and
your relationship because you assume things are just going swimmingly. Sort of
like Kimber Henry and Christian Troy sans the drugs and kinky horizontal
refreshments. Have you ever been in that situation where things are going great
one day and then it’s just crisis mode the next? Do you ever look back to
yesterday and drive yourself crazy wondering how things got so destroyed and
mixed up?
I’ve often heard people mumble
that expression, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” during times of
trial. It’s as if those few words are suppose to suffice because, welp, it didn’t
kill you! So there’s always that… And no matter how many goddamn times I listened
to that Kelly Clarkson song, it never grew on me.
But I suppose that despite all
that, there is a degree of truth to that saying. Maybe all that suffering, over
time, hardens our hearts. Maybe, if we’re damaged enough, all the little stuff
stops bothering us because we’ve endured so much worse. Or maybe, all the bumpy
roads just led us to where we’re supposed to be. Those times of trial and
turmoil led us right here: to our happy place, our safe heaven, a heart’s
desire. To our destiny.
Any idiot can face a crisis. It’s day to day
living that wears you out. –Anton Chekhov
I personally know of so many relationship
situations where intimate relations go sour and then, in the midst of heartache
and crisis, individuals stumble upon something really great. Their heartbreak
is soothed by this gentle, guiding light they engaged with in the Starbucks
line. All of those awful feelings of mistrust and unease, those feelings of
toxicity, are erased by a few sweet words exchanged in passing. One person can
smooth those troubled waters simply by taking two seconds to care about another
person.
There was this tragic couple I
used to know. And I’m not talking about Lindsay Lohan repeat cocaine benders
kind of tragic. I’m talking about a contaminated, train wreck couple who
literally got off on tearing each other apart. These two individuals just
brought out the absolute worst in each other. The slightest things would
trigger an outburst and that outburst would wreck physical havoc. Bumps and
bruises became commonplace, property was damaged, insults were thrown and every
day, little pieces of their heart got chipped away in the process.
For awhile, it seemed like
nothing could alleviate the pain this tumultuous relationship caused. It just
seemed like one tragedy after another, this terrible relationship tainting
everyone that preceded it. The constant animosity that existed between them
seemed to just carry on with every new person they encountered. They were on
this long bumpy road that seemingly led to nowhere. Sure, maybe all those
things didn’t kill them, but were they really making them stronger, more
formidable people?
This is a good sign, having a broken heart.
It means we have tried for something. –Elizabeth Gilbert
I just remember thinking, you
have to be learning something from this. You have to be gaining something from
this experience, something besides moxie and an intolerance for yelling, that
you can take with you into the next interpersonal relationship. There has got
to be a reason you were made to endure this. Something besides your own
stupidity had to have brought you here. I just honestly believe, in my heart of
hearts, that you were given this calamity in order to walk away with something.
Something you can hold in your hands. Something you can use. Something you can share.
Something that will make you
stronger.
I never thought of myself as a
wise individual, someone who was widely educated in the ways of the world. I
never envisioned myself as a person who could take a hit and just keep getting
up. Although my DNA states otherwise, I was always this wimpy, little train wreck.
A soft hearted woman who would get her feelings hurt when her idiot
ex-boyfriend called her an unsavory name. I would hurt to my core, could feel
it in the pit of my stomach, those hurt feelings burning a hole in my insides
like an ulcer.
But somehow, I kept getting back up.
Like the stubborn, pasta fed,
Indiana bred, Marco Island raised European that I am. I would stare into the
pale blue eyes of that behemoth piece of New Jersey garbage and think to
myself, taunting him, “What else ya got? My grandmother had more attitude…”
Could it be that these people who
hurt us, who chill us with their words and injure us with their actions, commit these atrocities
that outwardly chip away at us, are exactly what we need to keep us coming
back? These things that tear us down, could they actually be helping us in the
long run? Could they be building our longstanding character? Strengthening our
backbones? Hardening our hearts? Thickening our skin? Enabling us to capture
the hearts of individuals far more worthy? These things that hurt us but don’t
kill us, could they somehow make us stronger?
Moral of the Crazy: I wish I
could say that I knew all the answers. I’ve spent actual days of my life
studying people, trying to figure out why it is that people do what they do. I’ve
read books about why individuals are violent, why they kill each other, and
manipulate juries to believe whatever it is that benefits them. I could study
my whole life, the inner workings and trappings of these things and I’ll probably
just never understand. People just are as they are, friends. Without sense or
reason.
But I want to believe that those
hurtful things that can’t knock you
down are benefiting you in some way. I need to believe that what doesn’t kill
you makes you stronger. Because if not, why else bother to get back up? Why not
just succumb to your demise? Your inevitable defeat? It just can’t be so.
You have to get back up.
Because you have to keep on
living.
When written in Chinese, the word “crisis” is
composed of two characters. One represents danger and the other represents
opportunity. –John Fitzgerald Kennedy
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