Here we go again
When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.
-- I Corinthians
Ironic as it may be, an agnostic like me (or atheist, depending on your particular definitions of those words) is pondering a passage from the Bible. More accurately, the sentiment of one small part of that passage. And since I'm completely clueless about the context of that line, I have to take it at its face value, which does have a bearing on my current situation.
I've already discussed at length my various predilections for apathy, vapid entertainment, and personal indecision. I seem unable to devote myself to a single pursuit, and so I whittle away at the hours left to me by generally wasting as much of them as I can. This was brought home to me with great force today.
I have been in a relationship of sorts for about half a year. To me, relentless procrastinator that I am, half a year is not nearly enough time to come to a serious decision about anything -- much less the rest of one's life. The better half of this relationship, however, is of a different mind. The problem is, I'm not sure who's right.
I'm on the verge of causing the dissolution the relationship -- assuming, of course, that it has yet to pass -- and I'm not sure whether this decision is sound.
Am I balking because of valid reasons, or just because I'm good at it? Am I holding out unreasonably, or are my hesitations justified?
I am naturally biased in favor of my own reasoning. I am also, however, just enough of a self-hating paranoid to consider the very real possibility that I am making a terrible mistake based on unsound reasoning.
While perhaps not a graveyard of missed opportunities, my past certainly has its fair share. My concern now is whether I have become incapable of seizing any to my own benefit, and in fact shrink from them. The fear of failure, in short, may prevent any chance for meaningful change.
Should I, then, embrace this situation, and initiate a cascade of events that will force my life down a certain path, or should I continue in this relatively anarchic state, pregnant with potential yet barren of certainty?
I have considered the possibility that any relationship that causes me to doubt my own judgment so severely is not a healthy one. This train of thought is derailed by the fact that my self-confidence is at a fairly perpetual ebb in any case. There's no way of telling whether the relationship is the cause, or simply one of many contributing variables.
I have tried to evaluate the situation from all possible angles. Why would I want to sever these ties? Why would I want to keep them, or reinforce them? And I always come up against the realization that I do not trust my own judgment.
I honestly believe she loves me; but whether this is a practical kind of love or not, I cannot say. She is determined to be married, but I am unconvinced as to how much this motivation is tied to any person aside from herself. There are ratios at play here that I believe are vital to the decision making process, but I cannot divine them.
I must doubt even this line of reasoning, however, simply because it may be my justification of a course of action taken out of fear. You see my dilemma. If I cannot trust my own thoughts, how do I make any decisions at all? Do I pick a course at random and hurl myself down it?
As for myself, I am unsure. Is this a pale imitation of that emotion, or is this simply as close an approximation to the real thing of which I am capable? Even in the midst of all this, I realize what a sopping, pansy-ass douchebag I have become. I duly apologize to anyone wading through this grotesquerie of self indulgence.
I look around me, and everywhere I see examples of what I do not want to become. The dissolute stoner with no visible means of social or financial support. The mother of two, a month of paychecks away from living in her car, spending her holidays alone but for her cats. The bitter, lonely father of an underachieving son -- and an estranged daughter who is forever beyond the reach of conciliation.
Ah, one might say. These examples all have a common thread... a fear of loneliness and abandonment. Ah, I respond. I also see a mother, married to the same man for nearly 40 years, who daily wonders how her life would have been different. Her marriage has absorbed so much of her will and her persona that she is chronically incapable of independent action. Now, she is perpetually berating herself for this weakness and the prison of a life to which it has sentenced her.
So now, I can say with confidence that I am not sure what I dread more: being alone, or the realization that being alone was the better option.
In short, I cannot decide whether it is worse not to live, or to live poorly.
Childish things, indeed.