Perhaps Small Elephants Cannot be Finished

Dear Self,

Do you remember that scene in Anne of Ingleside when Anne tries to enter the room gracefully to impress Gilbert's old flame - Christine -  and she trips over the bearskin rug on the floor, and after a brief and seemingly drunken stagger across the floor, fortunately, but barely, lands face-up in an empty armchair?  I think that scene might describe your latest attempts at dealing with life.  Quite simply, you are a social klutz.

I couldn't find the picture of Anne breaking the slate over Gil's head but I figured the moment before might suffice.

Anne again getting herself into trouble.

It's not that you don't get the importance of stepping carefully through situations that involve people's feelings and hopes, fears, disappointments and heartbreaks but for some reason, something always trips you up and you find yourself staggering through the situation like a bull in a china shop and recover only long enough to realize that you've quite possibly turned the situation from delicate to downright critical.  And the only way people want to now deal with the situation to get you out...immediately.

Sadly, it's not like you aren't aware of others when you come crashing in.  In fact, it might be the very opposite.  You are all too aware of the wounds that have been inflicted or could be inflicted.  You are all too aware of how everyone in the situation feels and your empathy almost brings you to the point of incapacitation.  But somehow despite your sensitivity, something always gets you in trouble as you administer what may seem like emotional blunt force trauma to the patient.  So, why not just avoid the situation altogether?  Because you see so many around you suffering and your heart is too big - bigger even than your social two left feet - to just watch them struggle.  And somehow you keep hoping that even the most awkward of hands can do much to lift up the hands that hang down and strengthen the feeble knees.

But the hardest part is that after the dust has cleared, you still haven't said that you needed to say.  So let me, gawky teenager-like, stumble through what it is I came to say:

I love you.  Enough that I want you to be happy.  Enough that I would do anything to make you happy.  Enough to realize that I can't force happiness upon you.  You must choose it yourself.  And sometimes that requires work, communication, forgiveness and love.  If you do not choose these, and as you continue to persist in avoiding these, the reality is that consequences we do not desire are becoming our future.  Life is too short to doubt, to hold grudges, to fear.  But in these, you must choose for yourself.  I know I am not perfect and have possibly hurt you as well: Please forgive me.  Please let me know what you need.  Please let me help you.  I love you more than I can express.

Autumn at UVa, Charlottesville, VA

Love,
Me

And while we're on the subject of Gilbert...Oh we aren't?  Well...

Still reading: Made in America by Bill Bryson
Currently noticing: Our rich heritage of Americanisms
Currently listening: 今生不再 by 周以豪