15 February 2009

The Revolt of the Body - Part 4

                 I can remember lying on the couch for hours, after everyone had retired for the night, arguing with myself about how wise it would be to wake him up and tell him where my heart was at, to tell him we could make a go of it, that I could deal with his past even if he couldn't, that I could even get past his grown out, mountain-man, sloppy hair. But, alas, as is true to my nature, I did nothing. Nothing , that is, except continue a senseless argument with myself until, at last, my body took over and shut my mind off for the night. I left that weekend once again wondering. Wondering what he was thinking and what might have happened if I had some guts.
                  This weekend, though, it looked like I might have another shot at it. With four hours of a less than entertaining game, I would have plenty of opportunity to find out. The 49'ers had done their part in scoring 14 points in the first minute and a half of the game. That at least took the distraction of a nail-biting game out of the way. Now all I had to do was open my mouth and ask. Ask why he ended things, what he thought might happen that he worked so hard to prevent. And all those overly-girlish questions like "was it something I did" and "was there someone else?" I figured I would start small and go from there. And so after much deliberation I went with. "Aren't you bummed you're not snowboarding?"
"Right now, not really." Good. A lead in. Sounds promising. And so I spent the next three hours plotting my next move, settling on what to say and then trying to get my mouth to cooperate with my brain. To actually voice all the hundreds of questions and statements that were running through my head at brake-neck speeds. When I accepted the fact that my mouth was useless, I thought maybe just a gesture would work. A hand on his shoulder as he sat mere inches away, maybe I could wrap my arm around him. I think that would get my point across. Unfortunately, I found my body even more useless and unwilling than my mouth. At least I could open my mouth to start (not that I could get words to follow, but in the world of paralysis ever a moving pinkie is worthy of celebration). My body on the other hand would not budge. It had called a strike in my time of most desperate need. And so I sat motionless, watching three hours of a game that had been won in the first 2 minutes.
                I would like to say that those three hours worked in me the courage to never let the paralysis win again. That it gave me the fortitude of mind to never let a moment pass where I didn't ask those questions. That I never listened to a lame excuse to end a relationship or that I never let a friend leave without knowing what I meant to them or what they meant to me, or letting them serve up some lame platitude like "See you at the next wedding or funeral" without calling them to the mat and finding out what had driven them away or how far they intended to run.
                  Unfortunately, I am slow to learn these lessons and even slower to pick up the skills to demand my mouth listens to my brain and my body no longer revolts, and mostly to quiet the voice in my head that says don't let them know you are unsure and confused, don't let them know you care more than they do and never let them make a fool out of you. After loosing out on knowing those I cared about and knowing more of myself in the process, I am finally starting to get there. And maybe someday, I'll have the opportunity to ask the questions I had so long ago. I only hope they still have the answers.

No comments:

Post a Comment