Midnight Revelations and Phish Food (Yum)!

This post is a little overdue, but my friend the spider interrupted normally-scheduled programming

Middle of the night revelations can be quite obnoxious. There you are, peacefully snoozing away, when suddenly you are jolted into consciousness by your subconscious finally screaming at you to get with the program. And as you gasp yourself awake and blink away tears that materialized out of nowhere, you realize that the heart usually beats out the mind, no matter how pragmatic you think you are. Until your poor little battered heart finally sends a platitude back up to your brain because she fucked things up, yet again.

As determined and independent and brave as I may be, I’m human. And as a human, I am deeply dependent on loving relationships with my fellow species, to the point of (occasionally significant) self-compromise. I realize that this is a fundamental requirement to maintaining a relationship with anyone outside of one’s self, but it’s defining the line where one can’t cross that is the tricky bitch about human friendships and romantic relationships.

So when do we say when? When do we know when we’ve had enough of compromising, or feeling an equitable compromise is not being made by the other party? Or have I just not evolved enough to realize that the trick to all of this might just be giving everything I have without the expectation of reciprocation? Buddha or Ghandi or Mother Theresa might go with that, but not being a saint in a state of nirvana, I have human emotional needs that I don’t think are that hard to satisfy. So why does it always end up that every few years I’m awakened by my subconscious screaming at my conscious mind that it is time to let go, yet again? Face forward, chase the next disaster, make the next mistake. But next time, remember that you are a mind-fuckingly awesome human being. And that sitting at home with a glass of wine and pint of Ben and Jerry’s will always beat out letting someone treat you less than that.

Even Instagramming doesn’t make this look cool. At. All.

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