PDF never stops surprising me. He has this bizarre, kind of unheathy attitude toward life, but his reasons for it are actually quite impressive. He has this flippant, casual attitude about his own life history, and he doesn't like to talk about it with anyone. "What's past is past," he says, "I prefer to look forward instead of back." I think he and I are a true case of opposites attracting; we have a lot to learn from one another. I cannot fathom ignoring my past--in fact I can barely stop talking about it. I have this idea in my head that a person is the product of his or her combined experiences, and that without knowing all of those experiences, you can't get a sense of who that person really is. Also in my infinite idealism, I tend to assume that everyone is interested in knowing who other people really are. I think though that the reality is that we all need a little mystery (or at least the semblance of it) to keep things entertaining.
We went out Thursday night to this cute restraubar on the Upper West Side and had the most delicious white sangria ever, along with a tangy fresh mojito and some marvelous mussels. The conversation, as it always is with us two, was good and silly and fun, and then about an hour in, as it always does, the light banter shifted to a deeper discussion. There came an appropriate moment to bring up a question that's been stewing in my mind for a while: "PDF, how come you keep secrets from Boyfriend?"
"Uuuhh oh. Like what?" he asked, an uncomfortable impatience permeating his tone.
"Like getting arrested in college? Like your entire relationship with [ex-boyfriend A]?"
At first he was a little indignant that I had brought up the subject, but after I assured him that my inquiry was made out of curiosity and not judgment he smoothed his ruffled feathers and spoke matter-of-factly. Much like me--and, I suspect, everyone--there are things in his past that are embarassing and a little shameful, things that he'd prefer to forget. Basically his take on these things is that nobody needs to know everything about you (I get that). Everyone does stupid things, so we can assume that everyone around us has a few skeletons in their closet that they'd like to forget (yep, still with ya). But PDF believes that there is no reason to acknowledge the existence of his skeletons (huh?) and he sees no cause to share them with Boyfriend, even though they are part of who he is (uh... I don't get that at all).
Then--get this!--then he says the most profound and awesome thing: He feels like Who He Is ought to speak for itself with no need for excuses or explanations.
Whoa! Talk about something I can learn from! It's exactly this kind of thing that illustrates why I love people with ideas and sensibilities that are different from mine. His blatant disregard for the past notwithstanding (he even goes so far as to block certain things out of his own memory), PDF is on to something here. Granted, he takes the concept to an extreme, but I think somewhere in between my open-book and his lock-and-key diary there is a middle ground that would be better for both of us.
So here's a truth for me (and you) to think about: Who I am may be colored by my past, but there is totally no need to show off the paint when I display the artwork, so to speak. It's a much richer experience to wait until someone else gets interested enough to start asking about the techniques and tools that created me.
It's a very basic concept, but one I often forget. To my old friends the fact that I am a walking personal tragedy is funny and endearing because they know that I am strong and positive enough that my lemons always turn into lemonade. New friends might need a little time to warm up to me before I open up so much. I am being hasty in my search for really great friends and my search for a romantic interest (much as I hate to admit that I am searching for one....but I am). I had such great friends in New Orleans, and such great friends in Ohio...they were like chosen families. I am heartsick for my chosen families, and impatient to begin one here. I'm going to take PDF's advice though, and back off a little from the search... Instead, as he says, as I know, I ought to focus wholeheartedly on my career and trust that the rest will come.
With a smile and a wink he said something else to me too: "You know, honey, you've only been here five months. I'm really getting sick of your unwillingness to accept a life that is anything less than your ideal. It's making the rest of us New Yorkers look bad."
Ha! HAHAHA!
We went out Thursday night to this cute restraubar on the Upper West Side and had the most delicious white sangria ever, along with a tangy fresh mojito and some marvelous mussels. The conversation, as it always is with us two, was good and silly and fun, and then about an hour in, as it always does, the light banter shifted to a deeper discussion. There came an appropriate moment to bring up a question that's been stewing in my mind for a while: "PDF, how come you keep secrets from Boyfriend?"
"Uuuhh oh. Like what?" he asked, an uncomfortable impatience permeating his tone.
"Like getting arrested in college? Like your entire relationship with [ex-boyfriend A]?"
At first he was a little indignant that I had brought up the subject, but after I assured him that my inquiry was made out of curiosity and not judgment he smoothed his ruffled feathers and spoke matter-of-factly. Much like me--and, I suspect, everyone--there are things in his past that are embarassing and a little shameful, things that he'd prefer to forget. Basically his take on these things is that nobody needs to know everything about you (I get that). Everyone does stupid things, so we can assume that everyone around us has a few skeletons in their closet that they'd like to forget (yep, still with ya). But PDF believes that there is no reason to acknowledge the existence of his skeletons (huh?) and he sees no cause to share them with Boyfriend, even though they are part of who he is (uh... I don't get that at all).
Then--get this!--then he says the most profound and awesome thing: He feels like Who He Is ought to speak for itself with no need for excuses or explanations.
Whoa! Talk about something I can learn from! It's exactly this kind of thing that illustrates why I love people with ideas and sensibilities that are different from mine. His blatant disregard for the past notwithstanding (he even goes so far as to block certain things out of his own memory), PDF is on to something here. Granted, he takes the concept to an extreme, but I think somewhere in between my open-book and his lock-and-key diary there is a middle ground that would be better for both of us.
So here's a truth for me (and you) to think about: Who I am may be colored by my past, but there is totally no need to show off the paint when I display the artwork, so to speak. It's a much richer experience to wait until someone else gets interested enough to start asking about the techniques and tools that created me.
It's a very basic concept, but one I often forget. To my old friends the fact that I am a walking personal tragedy is funny and endearing because they know that I am strong and positive enough that my lemons always turn into lemonade. New friends might need a little time to warm up to me before I open up so much. I am being hasty in my search for really great friends and my search for a romantic interest (much as I hate to admit that I am searching for one....but I am). I had such great friends in New Orleans, and such great friends in Ohio...they were like chosen families. I am heartsick for my chosen families, and impatient to begin one here. I'm going to take PDF's advice though, and back off a little from the search... Instead, as he says, as I know, I ought to focus wholeheartedly on my career and trust that the rest will come.
With a smile and a wink he said something else to me too: "You know, honey, you've only been here five months. I'm really getting sick of your unwillingness to accept a life that is anything less than your ideal. It's making the rest of us New Yorkers look bad."
Ha! HAHAHA!
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