To Which Devices Have You Descended?
I made a mistake once that I will never forget. Not only did I end up with the wrong person, I BECAME someone I never thought I’d become – insular, self-centered and, worst of all, initially blind to these flaws.
No need to bother you with too many of the gory details (this is not a tabloid column!); suffice to say that it was a “whirlwind romance” of sorts, if you’ll pardon the term – one that had predictably ruinous effects. Other Person was intelligent, quick-witted and sharp as a tack, all of which interested me no end – yet was flighty, inconstant, distressingly uncompassionate, and had a roving eye, if you catch my drift, and the inclination to gaily proceed to where that gaze led; damn the torpedoes. As for me, yes, I was insular and self-centered in that relationship, finding it all too easy to retreat “within” myself when the need arose (which, you can imagine, it did rather often). The combination was by turns volatile and inert (make of that statement what you will – I just love scientific jargon, don’t you?).
And the worst part, of course, is that up to this point I’m not completely certain that we didn’t simply bring out the worst in each other. A more patient person might’ve been able to wait out Other Person’s infidelities and blustering. Someone more sympathetic would’ve been able to understand their partner better, and might have found ways to deal with the issues. So on and so forth; ad infinitum, ad nauseam.
The aforementioned question is of course just speculative, and it will probably never be answered once and for all. Plus, of course, I refuse to speak for Other Person. But what I will say – a lesson that I offer to everyone out there, most especially those who may be on the verge of committing the same mistake themselves – is that thanks to the fact that I lost my head, I was blinded in more ways than one. Not only initially to the flaws of Other Person, a denial that made the realization all the more jarring and painful – but also my own failings as well. As a matter of fact, it took a year or so for me to be able to view the entire sordid affair objectively (it’s true, hindsight really is 20-20) and admit that I did have a significant role to play in our downfall as a couple. Only then was I really able to pick up the pieces, throw them in the trash, so to speak, and move on.
This irritatingly cutesy aphorism surfaced in one of my social networks the other week. It goes something like this: “After a breakup, one partner gets better while the other gets bitter”, or words to that effect. Like all such statements it contains a grain of truth, but sacrifices a great deal in the interests of brevity and wit. While I did get bitter for a little while, I also did get better, and I daresay Other Person might also be able to say the same – as well as many others out there, too.
But how long before this is the case? How low do we have to go before we admit that we ourselves are part of the problem – and by doing so discover for ourselves the way out of whatever rut we may be in as a consequence? To which devices need we descend? That, of course, will depend on us and us alone.
… What jailer so inexorable as one’s self. ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne, ‘The House of Seven Gables’
