Bent

“Everyone comes into your life for a reason.”

So sayeth one of the neighborhood divorced moms who sometimes text me to see if I’m coping all right. And it may be true, but that doesn’t mean it’s a *good* reason.

The whole concept of “reason” is value-neutral, unless you assume some well-meaning entity is sending you messages with coded life lessons, and really, what are the odds?

People move in and out of our lives regularly—some exist for us for no more than a few moments. Most are benign and have no lasting effects at all. Some stick around for years, decades, or your whole life. Those people probably have mixed effects, but hopefully (not always) a net positive. Others seem to have an outsized impact in spite of their relatively brief appearances.

Those must be the “reason” people.

They should be thought of as catalysts, I think. Whether their presence seems to result in huge benefits or in what can (perhaps euphemistically) be called creative destruction, they shook something loose that needed shaking.

Regardless, I think people should wear signs. Maybe invisible ones that you can only see when you shine a black light on their foreheads. So if you really need to know, you can check. Some signs would say, “mostly harmless.” Others would say, “ticking rage bomb.” A few might say “exactly what I appear to be,” while many would say “misrepresenting my intentions as we speak.” Don’t you think that would be helpful?

 

In other news, I seem to have lost the ability to cry. In spite of having lived through the emotional equivalent of blitzkrieg with a smattering of high-dose radiation at random intervals in the last few months, not one tear have I shed. That’s how I know what my forehead sign would say if you shined a black light on me.

“Broken.”

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9 thoughts on “Bent

  1. wow, these were my feelings as I read this post: HA! HAHA! Sing it, sister. Huh, interesting. yep. ?? wait, what? Awww.. 😦

    I just felt like feelings were a better response than words. But now, because I can’t resist, words: I didn’t cry for years and years and years after my parents got divorced and a lot of other unhappy things happened. Now I ALWAYS cry during movie previews when they play sweeping musical scores of some kind. ALWAYS. It’s sooooooo embarrassing. I think it’s all the stocked up tears I never shed. Seriously. I’m not joking. I really think I lost control over/touch with my cry response, and now I cry inappropriately but never, ever at funerals or when something sad happens.

  2. Oh, TR. 😦 I am so sorry. I am a ridiculous cryer myself (does this surprise anyone) and am a million times more so now that I have had children. I have no insights, just a sad heart for you, my friend.

  3. I often cannot cry when I really feel like I should or need to, but then get set off by some stupid little thing that pales in comparison to the real thing. Sometimes a sad movie will also help me out when I need to cry about something real. Sorry that crying is even a topic of conversation. 😦

  4. I’m afraid you come by this honestly. I’m not a crier, and I never saw anyone in my family cry..ever. Your father’s mother cried at the drop of a hat, but the rest of them don’t.

  5. My kids asked me why Dad cried all the time when we were getting divorced, and I didn’t cry. The answer? I cried the whole time we were married.

    I love the sign idea. I will get my invisible tattoo as soon as I decide what it should say.

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