Everyone Will Hurt You But I’m Still an Optimist

You get to a certain age and a part of you just expects for romantic interest X or friend Y to hurt you. Just like that 3rd loop on a fast roller coaster that you know is coming but still feel jittery altogether when it happens. Or if they do not, one becomes baffled as to why they have not yet and like clock work, sooner or later they do. Sometimes the pain will come softly and in small increments and other times it will pour over you like a wild Toronto thunder storm that shuts down the TTC and leaves people scrambling and asking, “Why me?” Why me, indeed, I still ask when hurt by somebody unexpectedly. I mean, at my age I should know better but I’m still surprised when it does happen.

If you are a closet mush ball like me (like every Cancer- hard shell, all mush inside) you value friendships and relationships and still want to open up like this heart has never felt pain. When someone says, “You can trust me” I actually want to believe them. No matter how much of my 30 + years on this dark planet makes me think otherwise. Why is that? Why do I still want to trust utterly and fully when human beings are (pardon my French) walking and talking fucks-ups that mean well but usually don’t do well? Why do I still want to allow people in when I know that human beings love to hit the “mess things up button” when everything is nice? Maybe we are all just programmed to be self-destructive and it should come as no surprise when one of us acts out. Maybe it should come as a surprise when we don’t act out.

Or maybe I still give human beings the benefit of the doubt because I have met the cold, standoffish prototype and it is a lonely, bitter life they live. They’ll shrug and say they do not care but if you get to know them better you’ll see that all that anger and loneliness is really just pain and mistrust. They are quick to be judged by outsiders but I know where they are coming from. Though I may seem like their anti-thesis, in a way I am them and so are you. And so is every single person who has ever trusted utterly and fully and been treated unfairly. You think to yourself, why did this come my way? I didn’t deserve this. I deserved better. 

On that note, at what point does one say, “I’m done” or rather at what point does one still keep trying even when logic tells you, don’t trust this person. How many times is enough? If you are like me and want to believe, no, scratch that, need to believe, that the world can be a nice place, you keep giving chances till you find yourself sitting on a Megabus, crying while coming back from what should have been a fantastic ending to a fantastic trip. It is then that you scavenger around your bag for paper, borrow a working pen from the Italian guy a row behind you and you write a blog entry such as this. And in the midst of the long drive you ask yourself, can human beings ever be fully trusted? I don’t mean the fake, say hi when I see you, lets do a few shots trust, but the real and sincere trust that leads to a lifetime bond. Is it even smart to trust another person anymore?

My ex-boyfriend wouldn’t skip a beat to answer that question and give one of his famous, “Human beings should not be trusted. They don’t know what to do with such power” speeches. Truth be told, such a speech from him would often trigger and be the start of a lengthy monologue by yours truly that would try to erase every, do-not-trust-humans-theory he’d throw my way. Maybe I used to try to silence him and throw out words like jaded and crazy because somewhere really, really deep inside I knew he was right. Give human beings too much friendship, too much of your inner child; reveal too much of your vulnerable self and with enough time they will trample all over them. Or maybe I am scared to believe that I live in a world that only looks pink because I am wearing rose-colored Ray Bans. Or maybe I long for someone who will wear rose-colored glasses with me and give me a weird look when I try to take mine off. Not somebody who wants to pry them off me. 

It must be stated however that not all pain that human beings give is intentional and as in this particular case, might even be met with a plethora of apologies and genuine feelings of guilt but that doesn’t change that you just cried and your inner child was once again reminded that they must grow up or continue to trust fully and utterly and coincidentally continue to feel pain, as children often.

A lot to think about on my way back to Toronto. My inner child wants to continue to trust, fully and utterly but like all children, one has to grow up one day. Maybe those cold, standoffish types have it all right and it is I who has it backwards but still my closet mush ball self wants to trust, fully and utterly. Maybe I will experience more pain than my anti-thesis but at least I am still trying and trusting; trusting and trying. 

Or maybe human beings are the last thing from perfect and we are not meant to be trusted for the simple fact that we are not perfect. Or maybe we are just that, human beings; complex, fucked-up and deep inside all just little children never fully grown. All just trying our darnest in a world that will bring out our worst selves more often than our best selves. And that is what I will remind myself when I am hurt. That nobody is perfect, not even I. Especially not even I. 

As I am getting to the end of writing this entry and someone just reminded me that I am half way to Toronto and am just about to pass through Kingston, I am looking at the person who hurt me and I feel somewhat better. I know with enough time I can forgive. Why? Because I still want to see the best in people, even if we still are all walking, talking fuck-ups. Even so, that does not mean that within us does not exist a lifelong inner child that longs to forgive when they just cried their eyes out and in the same breath, just as much, wants to be forgiven when they have made a mess. It also helps to know I got someone on my side in Kingston. Maybe they’ll hurt me one day and I’ll write a part deux to this post. Or maybe I have met someone who will nurture my inner child the way others did not know how to. That way, I can keep wearing my rose-colored glasses and continue to believe that I can indeed trust, fully and utterly. Besides, I look good in rose-colored Ray Bans.

To Live in the Moment or to Think of the Future? or The Rewarding and Exhausting Side-Effects of Always Wanting to do the Responsible Thing.

If you were a, did-whatever-the-hell-you-wanted-teen like I was, your life did a 180 in your 20s. Yes sir, by the time I was 22 every decision was calculated and before I did anything I asked myself, “How will this affect my life 5 years from now?” Sure, others labelled me as overly cautious and sometimes prude but I took pride and comfort that I made “smart” decisions like going to university, continuing in my program when I wanted to drop out and overall not jumping from guy to guy (no matter how fun my girlfriends made it seem). 

Once you see a life that is the product of doing whatever you want, whenever you want, you live in state of fear of experiencing the painful and at times shameful effects such a life brings. I lived my life being calculated because I knew the side effects of living carelessly because that was me as a teen. Tomorrow didn’t exist and what the world thought did not matter. All that mattered was me doing what my heart wanted. I didn’t care if I failed my grade 11 math test because I went out with my boyfriend the night before. Yes, I lived in the moment. Something you can afford to do as a teen. In my 20s though I saw myself understanding the value of living for the future. If I had a part-time job and saved a month’s pay, I felt proud that I did that. If all my friends were going to a show and I stayed home, I felt in control of my life that I had the will power to just stay at home and be fine with that decision. If a guy I was into wanted to go out but I knew I had to stay home and study for my 3^rd year Geo-Politics mid term, I felt empowered to say, “No thank you, busy.” Yes, things like that made me feel good because it meant that I was in the drivers seat of the vehicle that was my life. Not my heart or my desire to do what felt good dictated my life but rather I dictated my life. I lived in such a way for the majority of my 20s and though I felt incredibly empowered I also felt a lot older than I was. Believe it or not, I was actually disturbed that at my then 25 years of age I had never experimented with any interesting "candy." This is what people my age do, I thought. They are wild, they experiment, they do things without thinking. “Try it Karina” I urged myself. Though the idea of being a carefree 20 something felt seductive, my mind would always go back to teen me. I’d sit in my room and I’d remember how it felt to not start university when all my friends did because I was still catching up on my high school credits. I’d remember how it felt to not be able to go away on that girl’s trip I wanted to because my life was not organized. But above all, I never forgot how it felt to feel like I was ways and years away from having the life I truly wanted. 

It is those thoughts that still till this day make me feel guilty about going out twice in a row. It is due to those exact thoughts that I became a promoter. How does one enjoy live music but still feel productive at one? You become a promoter of course where being at live shows is part of the gig. It is also due to a fear of living with the side effects of a carefree life that I don’t pursue certain romantic interests or better yet, cut them short (usually unexpectedly and when the guy thinks everything is great). The way I have always seen it, relationships drain your time and energy (even the good kinds) and why would you allow yourself to be drained of the two most important non-renewable resources that you have (Question: what is more important than your time and your energy? Answer: nothing). 

I have seen situations when it is all about the other person (à la teen me) and its one that I think never serves you. Most importantly, its one I never saw one benefiting anyone. You either end up broken-hearted or become part of a really stellar twosome where you find all your time and energy goes towards the other person. How can your life be amazing when you need to put in all your time and energy for your life together to be amazing? How can you do everything you need to do for own self when conceptually being in love is about being carefree, living on pure emotion and spur of the moment desires. How can one ever be successful if one lives like that? How can one ever care about getting ahead when under the trance of being in love? It is that exact fear of morphing into the carefree, lovesick girl I was as a teen that has made me put a halt on certain romances. I have seen the side effects of being that girl and believe me folks, its scary. It’s scary to know that your happiness lies in the hands of another person. To me the idea that someone has the ability to affect my mood and productivity levels is troubling. But that’s the life of someone in love, is it not? Bound to be affected by that person (mind, body and spirit) whether you like it or not. 

The idea of being vulnerable doesn’t jive with a control freak like me and vulnerable Karina isn’t merely as productive as control freak Karina. To be in love with another human being however is to be vulnerable every moment of your life, is it not? But at times I still wonder, did I lose out on getting close to certain people because I thought carefree and head in the clouds/in love Karina would screw up the carefully organized and nice life I have going for me at the moment? Maybe. Have I experienced less in life because I am more careful than the average girl to jump head first into something? Have I taken myself out of pleasurable and fulfilling scenarios because I fear that love will put me off track of my life plan that involves taking over the world? Okay, that was a joke, I don’t actually want to take over the world but I do very much want to be successful and though I still categorize myself as a hopeless romantic, maybe nowadays I think success is more important than love. Or maybe I no longer believe in love and so why not at least strive for something I can hold in my hand versus merely just in my head?

And this is where my head is at at this exact moment. Whether or not to cancel Sunday’s date with someone I’m genuinely excited about so I can catch up on work, errands, show announcements, light dusting, etc. I think to myself, so what if him and I have another amazing day (and night)? So what if I walk around Kensington carelessly and aimlessly with a grin on my face while we hold hands like two stupid teenagers? How does that help me get ahead in life? Or maybe, this is one of those, damned if I do, damned if I don’t scenarios that I often find myself in. Spend the day together and feel alive and risk becoming the carefree, lovesick teenager I was or cancel the date, tell him to never speak to me again (like ever) and do all the “right” things that I know I should? Or maybe the answer is balance. I can allow myself to be happy with this person and still deal with all the responsibilities that come with being me or maybe I am an extreme person; either in love, happy and carefree or single, thriving and responsible. Either one or the other, ol’ girl. Cant have both, it seems. 

I’m not alone though, I know I belong to the increasing percentage of people who have the line, “Its not that I don’t want to have a relationship, I just want to stay focused” on repeat. Or maybe my view of what it means to be happy has changed since I was a teenager? I want to use the word progressed but maybe someone who would choose success over love is actually a product or regression. Or maybe nowadays I view self control as king and vulnerability as having the worst hand? Funny how we change as adults. Teen me would have killed for a great date with a guy who excites me. Current me kills the idea of such before it even begins.