Mr. Earthquake was not pleased with me writing
about our night where he was threatening to hurt himself. He asked me to remove it, because people knew we were "involved."
E said that I was invading his privacy. But that horrible night is my story too. That night ruined many things in my life, things that I am still rebuilding. That night not only changed me irreversibly, it altered the relationships I had with people who love me. I get to tell my story here. I will not hold his secrets anymore.
E said that I was invading his privacy. But that horrible night is my story too. That night ruined many things in my life, things that I am still rebuilding. That night not only changed me irreversibly, it altered the relationships I had with people who love me. I get to tell my story here. I will not hold his secrets anymore.
This blog is, of course, one-sided. My side. My perception. My experience.
I think the most interesting part of this whole exchange was
this:
There are people that know we were involved.
It hurt that he reduced our relationship to one word: involved.
He did get me thinking about what being involved actually means. Turns out, it isn't always such a positive thing to be.
Here is the dictionary entry for involved:
- Very intricate and complex
- Implicated (as in a crime)
- Concerned in some affair, especially in a way likely to cause danger or unpleasantness
- Committed or engaged
So, were E and I involved?
According to the definition, the answer is:
- Yes
- Yes
- Yes
- No
As it turns out, I was way more involved than he was.
Being involved with MS
I don’t want to be involved with MS. But I have no real
choice about that. The thing I hate most about MS is how it forces involvement
upon me. And not just by the box of expensive medicine in my fridge. It’s
the magazines the pharmaceutical company sends me. It is the fundraising
solicitation from the MS Society. And the email messages inviting me to an
educational seminar. But hey, at least that last one comes with dinner. So am I
involved with MS?
- No
- Yes
- Yes
- Yes
MS is highly unpleasant. And the medicine to delay its
progression is often worse than the symptoms of the disease. I can deal with
the hand pain and the burning back. I can even cope with the bad eye. But the
Avonex gives me such aches and chills. And, because I have essentially shut
down my immune system to stop it from eating my brain, the last common cold I
got was anything but common.
But, like it or not, MS and I are certainly involved. MS has
committed to me for the rest of my life. I don’t want to be involved at all.
But, much like an arranged marriage of yore, I’m with MS to the bitter end.
Being involved with Derby
I’ve given my heart to Derby. And, so far in my life, Derby
has been the only thing to be gentile with my very bruised, scarred heart. I
love Derby, and Derby loves me back. Derby doesn’t care that I am a horrible skater.
That I haven’t mastered a crossover. That I am nowhere near passing minimums.
All that Derby ever asks of me is to be there for her, to show up when you are
expected. Derby wants me to keep trying. Keep improving.
Derby has never failed me. We have a beautiful thing. Am I involved with Derby?
Derby has never failed me. We have a beautiful thing. Am I involved with Derby?
- No
- No
- Yes
- Yes
As far as implicating Derby in an analogous crime… I can’t
really think of a CSI episode that is like Derby. Maybe the movie Fight Club? Well, we
all know the first rule of Fight Club.
Yeah, you might knock me down, but watch out when I get back up.
As far as commitment, I have to admit that I was having
serious doubts over the last few weeks. I don’t think there is was a secret that I
was in a very dark place. And I momentarily turned my back on Derby. But
she was patient and waited for me to get my shit back together.
I’m fully committed, my lovely Derby. I won’t ever let anything get
between us again.
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