Patience is a Virtue. But News Doesn't have Time for All That.

I mean, we got deadlines to meet, agendas to see to, and other networks to beat to the punch.

So I'm on Facebook, being all hip and stuff. Writing my witty status updates. Finding the coolest Bumper Stickers about video games and anime. I'm a cool guy. Anyway, I just finish up my latest update that is somewhat serious for once. However, I don't believe Facebook is the place to be very serious about things. So after making a status about silence being a tacit messenger of an intended statement, especially when you don't have words that could express it, a friend of mine from high school "likes" the status.

Having your stuff "liked" often is an indicator of how well you are liked as a person, in case you didn't learn that in middle school...

Sarcasm aside, that friend liked my status before I commented on my status using "Your momz" as an example of not having to talk to a person for them to understand something. The whole sequence didn't take two minutes. Kinda afraid to look and see what response she has to that, because it could appear that I made that comment in response to her "like," even though I had not seen her approval yet.



Oh, snap! Did I just start two blog posts in a week's time? Yes, I did.

So there is a Shirley Sherrod (Google suggestions says that's the right spelling)? She's been in the news for a racist sentiment she had decades ago, but recently recanted this sentiment at a NAACP gathering of sorts a few months ago. A small portion of her lecture had been reported out of context, and made her out to be racist.



What makes this reporting of a statement out of context different from other statements is that

1. Most people seeing more of the lecture could agree that the snippet was not indicative of the intent of the lecture. She was saying (in my interpretation) that she once had a opinion of white people and their beliefs and no longer holds to them, seeing that poverty and capital is the cause of many problems. She acknowledged that race relations in the US is a problem, but her point was of her coming to realize that she shouldn't just help blacks, but those who don't have as much financial capital or structural power as others. (Specifically, she had withheld some of the aid she could have granted the farmer, because she believed that the farmer was interacting with her in a condescending manner.)

2. There is a huge deal being made of the mistake committed by the administration which forced her resignation once the report was released. Also, news stations, which had reported the story of her resignation before their own investigative journalism made their returns, had to report that the story and the resulting actions of the feds and their networks were premature and unwarranted. Some misrepresentations can be overlooked (whether they should be or not is a different point, but I'm sure FOX News and MSNBC don't want to spend time saying that they aren't reporting the full story.) But poor journalism like this couldn't not be glossed over without taking serious hits to their credibility.



Now, the story itself is interesting. I think Sherrod made no mistake at all for her lecture. I'm glad when people own up to their mistakes, and I like it even more when mistakes produce better decisions and beliefs that affect those decisions. However, even outside of her anecdote, she used the phrase "one of his own" when directing him to a lawyer.

Unless, she was thinking of her mindset at the time and how she phrased her thinking when finding the lawyer, that kind of language would have drawn some reprimand. I think Bill O'Reilly (Politically, I am a independent that agrees more with the Democratic party) said it best when he said she did nothing wrong, but with that kind of language, she should be in the private sector and not in the government.



But my point is of the speed of sound journalism and how it can't keep up with developing news with the advent and apt utilization of the Intertubes.

In my opinion, and in my few months in the field, sound journalism requires time. One must investigate their sources properly. But information about a story can break in a few moments, long before the finished product of a proper article or news segment can break. And given that there are multiple and competing sources of news, there is exists competition to break news that their respective audiences want to hear and to break that news before their rivals can.



This is the case for the story of Mrs. Sherrod. I don't pay much attention to news, so I don't know which news stations broke the story first and how they broke it. But going by the reaction today, I think just about everybody messed up.

• I'll start from the source and work my way down. Again, I don't think Mrs. Sherrod did any thing wrong, but her language might actually indicate some inner concept of "us" and "them" even now.
• The guy who broke the story first online for a conservative news source took only what he needed from the lecture and used it to serve his purposes. I don't like that kind of dishonesty, but that's his job, and I don't really expect anything different from partisan news sources.
• As this was found out by the stations we consume on television, online, or radio, they broke the stories using the snippets from the online source. Which is fast, with-the-times journalism.
• During this time, Sherrod's superiors were hearing the story as well. They needed to make a quick decision (I'll get to why eventually) based upon the first news source and what the secondary sources like CNN and FOX News were reporting.

Unfortunately, that doesn't allow for people to go and see the full source in time. Honestly, they probably could have just Googled (I dig Google...) the lecture to check up on it and see the lecture in its unedited form and realized what Sherrod was doing. But breaking a story half of an hour sooner than your rivals in today's speed of 3G world is a major selling point, and you can't sell breaking a story first if you went to Google it and listened to a half of an hour lecture.

And generally, catching a story in this manner would get you moderately accurate information. Or at least enough to make a initial story and variate the reports bit-by-bit as the story continues to develop. I mean, TMZ isn't my idea of sound journalism, but they did break the news of Michael Jackson's death first and did so accurately enough.

As for the people responsible for her forced resignation, given that they are a loose part of the administration, they must act swiftly in removing potential units that could bring poor favor to their camp. If it turns out that Sherrod had made a truly racist statement, but the Federal superiors had waited to check to see if it was true, news sources (and more accurately the news talk shows) would have condemned the government for only acting by the the fact that (in this case) FOX News broke the story, and would have accused the administration for not acting swiftly enough. As soon as the story broke, it was in their best interest to act. Sherrod wasn't in a particularly high-status position, so it would have been no big deal to cut ties with her.

As it stands in reality, everyone is apologizing.

And apologies have their place, but I would simply prefer sound journalism. I can wait a day to hear a story, especially when it doesn't affect me immediately or directly. Honestly, it probably didn't affect most Americans immediately or directly.

But as long as people want immediate gratification and immediate knowledge in polarizing issues such as this, government officials and news stations will have pressure to perform at speeds at which public resignations and sound journalism cannot ever adequately be performed.

And I don't blame them, really. If you don't have the favor and/or trust of the people, you can't be expected to have the vote to be in office. Giving politicians the benefit of the doubt in the spirit of this post, if you aren't in office, then you can't help the country in the way you believe the country should be helped.

The same thing goes for the media. If they aren't the fastest, they lose favor from their viewers. Admittedly, I don't think liberals will ever start supporting FOX News, and conservatives won't start watching MSNBC, but there is CNN which is a little more neutral, and actual hour/half-hour nightly news like ABC or CBS still exist. If you aren't fast enough, you risk losing viewership.

So, yeah. I blame our society of impatience for this gambit of gaffes. Just about every party involved committed some wrong, but I prefer to fix my own mistakes before expecting change from anyone else, because my wrongs may make their wrongs easier to commit.

Accurate journalism is taken for granted, as is the speed of journalism today. But whereas speed seems to be something that isn't as forgiveable, inaccuracies, from what I've seen today and tonight, can be reasons to point out the agendas of your journalistic rivals. (See Rachel Maddow.) Heck, they make for stories in and of themselves.

I mean, it got me to blog again.

In Psychology, I think to what I learned about Fundamental Attribution Error. In my words, it occurs when a person or group of people believe some event is based upon characteristics of a person in a situation, and not from the situation itself.

An unrelated example is believing a person who is late to an important meeting is simply imprompt and unreliable, as opposed to thinking that some unforseen event, such as traffic from a horrible accident, may have caused that person to be late.

In reference to this, I think people would believe that a news sources broke a story later than other sources because it is inferior, as opposed to realizing that journalistic excellence comes from measures that take time. Or people would think that the government didn't care about the racist comments until news sources made a big deal about it, as opposed to viewing an alleged instance of racism in its entirety before destroying a person's reputation and source of income.

A fix to that mindset would require a change in society and the way we think about situations (or choose not to think about them.) Unfortunately, changing minds, especially the minds of many, is hard to do. Usually, it requires a need to change. And if the reason to change is for the benefit of "them" (blacks, whites, Latinos, Asians, Middle Eastern, women, men, liberals, conservatives,) "we" aren't going to change.

Because we people are kinda selfish like that.

Peace.

Love.

Patience.

Oh, geez. So my heart -is- still there.

Heads up, yo! If you want to read the whole thing, by all means, please. I'd love that. To get the point without wasting all of the time (any references to the post aren't necessary,) just read the big words.

See? It's just like a newspaper.

Hiya,

So. Heartbreak is a funny thing. Personally, it is an all-consuming reminder that I do have a heart, and that it does heal enough to be hurt again.

So that gets me to wonderin', how does such a person that normally disregards his feelings and emotions become so incapacitated by a specific kind of emotion?

Well, for me to focus my thoughts, I'll go back to where my heartbreaks began. I don't think it is a life-story of love too much unlike many others. In fourth grade, I had a crush on a girl. She said I was short and ugly.

Granted, she was on to something, but I digress.

Anyway, for the next couple of years, I repressed my romantic feelings for her. It was advantageous for me, because it was a small school system, and we often had the same classes due to our tracking. I wouldn't have been able to focus at all if I had entertained my emotions as much as I could have.

But a funny thing happened as I entered middle school. I started to mature in a way. I started to care about certain people on a more meaningful level. This girl was pretty and smart. She was quirky and very feminine. But I didn't begin to really like her until I became concerned with how she was on a daily basis. Matters like how she was feeling, how life outside of school was, who she was interested in all became the focus of my affection for her. She was a deeper person than I had realized, much like all people are. However, unlike most people, I liked that deeper person. And I wanted to become a part of that person's life.

So taking a little more initiative than I would have expected from myself, I began to talk to her more confidently when she chose to talk to me. We became good friends. I sought her for advice as she asked me for my thoughts. I would have asked her out during those middle school years, but she was always seeing someone at the time.

Well, as much as anyone sees someone romantically in middle school.

Our relationship got to a point where the guys seeing her would ask me for advice. And I understood that somewhat while I was a young teen: it is a little difficult to be yourself around a person you like and to be completely honest with that person. Generally, you are very concerned with how you appear to a person and whether or not that appearance is desirable. Even in current, more developed friendships, it is hard for a lot of my friends to talk about us as a couple, romantic or platonic. And some questions or remarks have no bad intentions behind them, but the question or remark itself, or the fact that one has to ask the question or make the remark, may directly affect the relationship.

It is simpler to ask someone who knows the person well in confidence, these questions or state these concerns.

Secrets upon secrets that members of couples keep from themselves, usually with the best interests of the relationship in mind.

Simply, I was close to this girl in a way that didn't need for me to pose or be desirable. As such, I knew things that she did not want to say, but did want her boyfriends to know. And the boyfriends wanted to know certain things but did not feel comfortable about asking.

As an adult (or something that takes the shape and voice of an adult,) I guess it was a stage between having a friend tell the boy you like that he is cute and having a frank conversation of you and your significant other's potential future together. They are all difficult ways of being honest with another person at the risk of losing that person's favor.

So yeah. Me and her, we were close. Especially considering the boy/girl split in terms of friendships at that time of development, we were close.

The heartbreak was not the same as the ones to come later in life. Everytime she complimented me sincerely, but in a platonic manner, my heart twisted a little. My heart executed the same twist during those cute moments where I was with her being around her boyfriend. As they spoke of one another away from each other, unlike they speak of anyone else, my heart fell. And yet, as a person who doesn't seem like a romantic, you can't help but feel happy for the people you care about when they care for another person and that person cares for them as well. Statistically, it is such a rare phenomenon. Of course, you wish it was you, but since you only want good for the people you care about, you pine in silence.



And that's when I knew I could experience complex emotions that could be explained as "bittersweet."



Anyway, all the later heartbreaks had a defining moment or two. Some moment dramatic enough to bring me to tears. Enough to tell myself to not make myself so vulnerable again, and yet, I can't help myself. Such is puppy love and its variants, I guess.

The second girl was a girl I knew for a longer period than the first, but due to being in even more classes together, having our last names close to each other alphabetically, and both being kinda geeky, the times we spent together weren't particularly special. They were pretty mundane, actually. But all pleasurable. I think Russell from Up described those moments with his dad in a similar manner.

Then one day at recess, she started following me without a word. It wasn't particularly strange for her to do something like that, but most of the people in the grade had seen how much time we had spent together. A scene like that confirmed a lot of people's suspicions. A scene like that made people ask me if we had started going out. That was kinda cool. I was pretty confident in myself during the later part of middle school, and had been on plenty of clubs, sports teams, and hung out with "cool" people and not so cool people. But I had never experienced that kind of popularity before.

In any case, there was another guy who, innocently but knowingly, teased her to the point of anger. I don't think I knew her as well as I did the first girl, but I did get to like her in time. That moment of heartbreak came when I uncharacteristically confronted this guy about his teasing. I knew the immature psyche of most guys at this point, so I teased him about bullying this girl because he liked her. I was pretty incessant about it. Eventually, he conceded rather loudly that he did like her, which drew my surprise. I knew boys liked to tease the girls they liked, but I didn't think he liked her.

The heartbreak was one of not matching up...a hopelessness of a sort. The guy was genuinely a good guy. And he was actually rather handsome. He was confident in himself, or at least more than most boys were. And honestly, he looked as if he could date the girl. I mean, I was taller than the second girl, but he was significantly taller, and any specific comparisons aside, I was shorter than most guys at that time (I had an early growth spurt and never grew an inch after 7th grade,) and I was black. In terms of friendship, race had nother to do with anything, but as I might have stated in previous posts, the race of a friend or associate may not matter, but when your daughter or you, yourself, consider "more intimate" interactions with a person of a different race, the perception changes entirely. I don't think that was the deciding factor in hindsight though: I tend to be a very good friend...perhaps a husband, but few people see me as "boyfriend material."

I'm not quite sure what that is.

I eventually told her how I felt about her, in a word puzzle, like we had passed each other in class all year long. When I asked her if she deciphered it, she only nodded her understanding without looking up from her desk. It was the "ignore the problem" approach I've seen two other times since then.

After that, she and the other guy started dating. The next breaking moment was hearing about their first kiss. This was about the time that most kids had started getting their first kisses, so it was a pretty big deal.

If it was a pretty big deal, a lot of people heard about it.

As an observant person, I heard it the first time. I didn't really hear it any other time after that, or at least people didn't remind me of the fact, because it was on my mind for most of that year.

In high school, we began taking other classes, so we didn't really see much of each other. Eventually she transferred to another school. I was still holding out some hope thinking that there was something meaningful about that recess in middle school. I never got to the point of asking her about it until college though. By that time, I was over her, but I wanted to know why she did something like that. I couldn't make sense of the situation.

Neither could she, as she had forgotten all about it.

That revelation wasn't directly insulting. She never had a great memory for situations like that. Besides if she didn't like me, she probably didn't think anything of it, and even though it was meaningful to me because I liked her, it probably wasn't memorable for her, because she didn't like me.

It was just really frustrating to go through that much pain and angst, and not really know why such a defining chain of events occured.



Even though I was confused about the second girl, I had lost most of the romantic interest in her. And besides, she started seeing another guy anyway.

During high school, I became more conscious of myself and the type of person I was. I became confident in myself, knowing what I was good at, and what I was bad at. I was popular. I knew more about Pokemon than most of the freshman as a senior, but I had played three years of football, became school president, and people regularly heard my voice and name all of the dang time.

...

No, like, literally. I didn't play football my senior year, and became a part-time DJ at the local radio station. Since I recorded my voice a few times and reported some local scores over the air, people heard me all of the time, if they were listening to football games. And football was and is huge in South Georgia. Not to forget to mention that I won a few monthly awards for literary and classes, and got called to the office for errands and stuff, several times a week.

I DIGRESS AGAIN. However, I guess it's good to know the context.

But there's nothing like a freshman girl to deflate your ego in a few moments. She was the third.

The first time I noticed her, we were in a chorus class together. We were to perform to another chorus class as preparation for our auditions for All-State Chorus. This was my sixth time audtioning, and I had passed four of the other times, so I wasn't very nervous. People had seen and heard me sing plenty of times before. The third girl had sung before too, but at the time, she was...very anxious about a lot of things. She performed, and even though she wasn't awful, she didn't sing up to her standards. When the other candidates finished singing, they took a seat in the classroom, but she returned outside. I saw that she was upset, so I entered, sang my diddy, and returned outside.

I regret nothing, and yet. And yet...

It was your run-of-the-mill high school talk about not letting life get you down. From there, I knew who she was. We talked during our class when we had the opportunity. Eventually, I would go and visit her in PE after my joint-enrollment courses at a local college. She was, and is, a lot like me. Or at least, I feel as if we think a lot alike. We are very different. But we are introspective souls with a cynical view of the world. Many times, she will ask a question or make a statement that I was thinking a few years ago or just a few days ago.

Well, I had become friends with her. In March, I had already passed my audition and went to Savannah for All-State. Normally, I would meet so many interesting people (except for that guy in 7th grade who said I sang too low and that I ruined the singing experience for him...boo...) and cute girls there, that any slight crush I had would dissipate.

The third girl stayed on my mind the entire time. I returned to her with a gift keychain with her name engraved.

Occasionally, we would joke about marriage and kids. And that I unknowingly named a stuffed penguin the same name she wanted to name her daughter. There were a lot of times where we hung out outside of school or at school in unexpected ways. In high school, the car I drove stayed messy. She saw it one day, and made me clean it out. Even though I was going to do it, I complained. And she said she would help me. And she did. It was really nice. It was all a lot of innocent fun, even though I thought there was mutual flirting involved. Of course, in a blog post about heartbreak, you could guess that there wasn't.

Fortunately, if I had to accept any of the heartbreaks it would have been the odd-numbered, as lengthy as they were. Before going to one of our year-end chorus practices and after stating how some boys wouldn't like her, I said that I liked her.

She was a little more active in her "ignore the problem" approach, interestingly enough. She asked to be excused and walked quickly to the restroom. She came to practice late and did not acknowledge me at all. This was not the heartbreak. That sucked, but was not heartbreaking.

Later on that night, I had a late shift at the radio station and was online with a friend. He was talking to the third girl, who was explaining the situation. Unlike the second girl, he confirmed that she didn't like me as did she when she messaged me. But she said it bothered her that she hurt a friend of hers. I accepted my rejection, and tried to move along emotionally.

Heartbreak?

After beginning to talk in-person again, she and I were talking about another guy, that had liked her for longer than I had. We were uncommonly open with each other (although not completely,) and I was wondering about her relation to that guy. I don't remember the words, and I might have taken meaning out of the statement that wasn't there simply for my own comfort, but the meaning I interpreted was that she would have chosen me over him.

And every moment they are together even now brings me heartache.

Of course, I shouldn't hold a statement like that against her. But it hurt when I learned they had started dating, because that was my fear. I had so much confidence in myself. I felt that even though we were somewhat compatible, she didn't think we complemented each other. Or that she simply didn't like me. I was mature enough to understand that. But, the guy, I felt that I was, for lack of a better word and a steadily waning grasp of any vocabulary I've obtained over the course of my life, better than he was. He's a rather average guy at first glance and really decent once you get to know him. Actually, he is a really good and interesting guy. And she wasn't lying when she said that to me. She simply didn't know him at the time. But in a way, in my eyes, an average guy in looks and charisma began to seriously date a beautiful, unique girl unlike anyone I've met before. It was kinda uplifting to see.

Until it didn't happen for me in a similar situation.

In college, I wasn't the smartest thing walking. I was really short at 5'3" on a campus where most guys were 5'8" or taller. I was black where there existed an organization called the 1.9% for the percentage of black males on campus. No longer was I known by everyone (perhaps more people than most, but I was no Knowshon Moreno.) I stopped singing. I was geeky enough to be weird, but not geeky enough to fit in with the anime kids or gamer kids. I was different, but not unique. The things that I remained good at didn't matter as much as other activities or attributes. And the things that did matter got my heartbroken the fourth time.

Well, technically, the first, third, and fourth times. I had known the fourth girl since freshman year. Honestly, she was a pure genius. She was undeniably beautiful. She had her quirks, but it only made her more endearing. And she was pretty naive. Again, it just made her cuter.

Strangely enough, she had a twin. She was the one that broke my confidence originally. On a mission trip (I'm sure I've typed this sometime before...,) we got into an argument as to why girls prefer taller guys. I had heard of this preference later in high school, but I had not seen someone hold to that preference so much as the fourth girls twin. Which is kinda strange, because she's approaching 6'. But I argued with her, as a short guy, as a guy with a crush on her, and simply because I didn't think the preference made much sense. After successfully debunking her argument, she still had the same prerequisite that a guy be taller than her. That was bad enough, but hearing it from the other girls around us during the discussion only made it worse.

I was so embarrassed and angry, I honestly couldn't think straight. After a friend of mine talked me down, my academic focus became the superficial nature of love outside of the biological urges and directed toward the norms and perceptions of certain people and their attributes, and how some attributes cannot be overlooked in any situation.

That was upsetting and tore my confidence to shreds, because many girls simply cannot see a boy who is shorter than them as being an object of romantic interest. Which means that it doesn't matter how close I become to a girl or how compatible we are. If her perception of a male partner includes looking up to him, then I have no chance. Of course, the opinion may change, but I learned in college, that most changing comes from a need to change. And most women would have already lost that preference by that time if it was advantageous to be less picky.

Ergo, my pool would be people who can't afford to choose partners based upon such attributes or are shorter than me.

It simply added a dimension to the concern for "nice guys who finish last." Not only do some girls desire bad attributes in boys, but they also desire shallow, unchangeable, irrelevant ones too. I didn't feel like one of those nice guys, even though I had become nicer as I matured. Until the fourth girl's twin showed me a slice-of-life I'd rather not have seen.

To bring all that around, the fourth girl met a guy she began to really like. I didn't know who it was, but me and the friend (same one who calmed me down from the girl's twin) were talking about a conversation the fourth girl was having with him and his girlfriend about her being tall and guys being shorter. I decided to put my previous couple of years of psychological and sociological knowledge to test, because at this time, I really didn't like her.

This girl had become a bit more cynical than her sister, but I don't think she saw past height. Since she was so tall, that didn't leave many guys to consider. She was very attractive, and even though the third girl's boyfriend was kinda average-looking in my mind, I didn't expect to see it often in life. Also, she was very much involved with the campus ministry she attended. And so I made my guess. I wasn't sure, and my friend confirmed nothing.

I was right. It's sad how I didn't even have to consider personality, but such are humans. We are animals. We don't often try to be much else in matters of the heart or biological urges.

-CONFLICTING POINT-

In any case, once she knew I knew, she began to ask me for advice about the dude. I had become a bit of a feminist during the past couple of years, and preferred not to think of people in stereotypes, but I helped where I could, and thought of what I've actually seen people do, and more importantly, why guys take those actions. In short, I figured that as being that resemble adults, we can be honest about how we feel about each other. And if a person likes another person, there isn't a lot that can accidentally occur to change that. For example, her athletic abilities in flag football would be impressive or cute and endearing. Basically, to a person that really likes another person, the other can do no wrong.

Eventually, they began to date. I continued to receive questions here and there, but not as frequently. I expected this. As the objective was achieved, the need for advice was not as great, and therefore, there was no need to return to an otherwise undesirable resource.

If this outlooks seems sad or cynical, well, it might be. But I've haven't been wrong very often.

...

And then for a while, the guy did not come up in conversation. When walking to class one day, the dude came up in conversation and she didn't seem like her cheerful self. Coming to tears, she said they had broken up. If she was in tears, I figured that he had done the breaking up. I asked if she wanted to talk about it then, but she did not.

Later on after some late night conversations, I would stick around and talk with her one-on-one. During those times, I came to realize just how hurt she was. She didn't say in detail what had happened until later, but I was honored that this queen of a woman trusted average-in-most-ways, weird-in-the-rest-of-ways with her feelings. I felt that we were close friends. The romantic feelings didn't come up until later.

We had gone to a end-of-year (hyphen explosion!) event at our campus ministry. She likes being around people, and I don't, so I was expecting her to walk around and be social. I was used to being less social and was trying to think of a way to stand in a corner and not appear bored until she was ready to leave. But to my surprise, she spent a lot of the time talking to me. Just by ourselves. I would have understood it a little better if there was no one else around, but there were people coming up to her, she would briefly address them, and return to the conversation with me. Unlike a lot of the previous conversations we've had, there was no direct gain for her in talking to me. It was just a pleasant conversation.

Afterwards, we decided to get doughnuts, and to be nice, get some for my friend and his girlfriend. We went over to the girlfriend's place with the delicious delici-o's, and tried to contact them: door-knocking, texting, calling, yelling. And then we thought maybe we were intruding, so bolted back to our complex, sitting in the parking lot, just talking.

I usually fall for women based on a few things:
1. They are intelligent.
2. They ask me questions/ask me what I think.
3. They interact with me, because they want to interact with me, and not for counseling purposes only.
4. They make me laugh.
5. They confuse me by being something that my cynical-self doesn't expect from people.
6. There is some genuine aspect of fun and enjoyment from being with her that isn't sexual at all.

And there are probably a few others. But as you can tell, most of these girls satisfy these criteria. I didn't set these criteria, but I've noticed these trends in my affections.

Anyway, during that night, I had my first of eleven consecutive nights of dreams of her. Pleasant dreams. Unpleasant dreams. Dreams of just being together. And as any of my friends could tell you, I couldn't get her off of my mind. I really didn't want to.

However, I knew that she was in the midst of heartbreak. I didn't want her to feel the guilt of hurting a friend, so I tried to hide those emotions. It got to a point, where it bothered me for me not to tell her how I felt, and how wonderful I thought she was. I told her in more platonic, playful ways, but nothing specific. She eventually found out from my behavior that something was up, and my friend (yeah, the same guy...he's a good friend) said she was getting wise to me. I didn't want this to play out like elementary school, but for her sake, I didn't want to tell her. I told him that if she asked again, just to tell her. And she did, and he told her.

I figured since she didn't ask me about it, that this was a variant of the "ignore the problem" approach, which became more and more evident. Once I was sure she knew and had the opportunity, I told her, more than any other girl, specifically what I wanted from our relationship.

I didn't want to casually date, because I already knew her. I wanted a romantic relationship with her. I was fully aware that she was in the midst of a lot of heartache, but as an adult that respects her feelings but her independence as well, that I shouldn't make the decision as to what is best for her. That I couldn't keep my feelings a secret anymore.

She played the response as I expected, and I had a counter prepared. So as not to personally hurt me or to place blame on me, she said that she wasn't in a position emotionally to be in a relationship. My counter was to inquire that if she had "feelings" for me even outside of entering a vulnerable relationship of a romantic nature (after some poor phrasing to begin.)

She said, "Maybe?" There was an interrogative intonation in her voice and attempted persuasion, but there was no real question in what she felt. The second statement and the conflicting actions afterwards were the heartbreakers: that I was her best guy friend. She asked if that was ok. Of course, it was.

The fourth and third girls were alike in the sense that they wanted the same thing from me. Well, at least they asked for it. The difference was the initiative to follow through. As I have hinted at, the third girl and I are still very good friends. We have spent hours on hours just talking about whatever. Getting coffee, walking, playing tennis, looking at the stars...The fourth girl began to passively ignore me. If I initiated conversation, she would respond in a light-hearted manner, but I couldn't get much more from her. But it's been about three months, and she hasn't initiated any contact with me. The third girl did.

I understand these actions as being due individual differences between two different people. Neither woman's actions surprise me now, but as for the fourth girl, it hurts for me to think back and wonder if I had held my emotions in check, I could still have the same somewhat-genuine relationship with a great person, as opposed to the obligatory, disingeninuous one currently held. I don't regret the decision out of being honest, but you know, "Ignorance is bliss."



Well, now you have a history of my romantic interests. I have dated another girl in that time, but that was a mistake on my part. I don't regret it at all, because I love her to death, but it was unfair to her to date her given that I didn't feel such strong emotions for her as I did others. But basically, I haven't dated any girl I really liked. I've never even kissed a girl. Well, I was kissed once on the cheek, and the other kisses on the cheek were platonic.

So it is a history of dwindling hope, rising cynicism, and heartbreak.



What amazes me, and finally coming to the point of this post, is how I'm willing even now to make myself vulnerable to people, for the opportunity to have more meaningful relationships with them, or relationships that I feel suit us best. In hindsight, I did like the third girl, but I shouldn't have dated her. Our relationship works best as a friendship. And with that as my focus, I feel like our relationship has become something more special than anything romantic we could have had.

You'd think that the brain of a person who has known only true heartbreak with no true romantic "success" would prevent him or her from making his or her heart vulnerable to, in his or her perception, nearly certain heartbreak by not becoming close so easily.

I think this is where my concept of "hope beyond hope" defines me. Even if I believe there is no chance for something I really want from life, I still wholeheartedly pursue it, paying little heed to the imminent consequences. I do that, simply because the reality of probably never experiencing a mutually satisfying and genuine love is still better than a certain reality of giving up on it and mentally preparing myself for a life in no way expecting to achieve a life goal.

Simply, the heartbreak of a heart that can probably heal a few more times is far better than not having one. Of not having any hope.

It is only in a few ways, but at the core, I am an idealist.

Sometimes, people say it is the ability to plan and reason that makes humans far different from other animals. I agree somewhat, but it is a rather dull realization. Instinct and biology, natural selection and evolution lead animals to do what is best. Humans are no different except that we occasionally use logic to better make those decisions. And sometimes, we still go with instincts and urges.

To me, what makes humans so different from all of the other animals is that we can hope. Forgive any racial connotations in the phrase (I'm black, it should offend me most,) that best suits the explanation, but any monkey can figure out how to use a stick to get ants from a hole. Logic ain't nothing novel or unique.

Hope prepares some part of the brain for something awesome. When instinct says "Run away!" and the logical answer is to remove oneself from the most negative situation in the most certain way possible, hope is, like, "Maybe it won't be so bad to be hit by a meteorite."

More specifically, and accurately for me, when instinct is telling me that I should lower my standards, and logically I know better than anyone else that this girl is friendly towards everyone or that I'm simply serving a purpose to her, hope says that she might like me.

And might and hope is enough for me in these situations. Heartbreak be damned.




Peace.

Love.

And the lack thereof.