Brave

I can't write. I worked on my book earlier, copying and pasting and editing and thinking about all the reasons the pages were written in the first place. Pain. Happiness. Sadness. Confusion. Memories.

It made me want to write something new, something fresh, something that better reflects where I am now. But I can't. I tried writing about the past, an old situation about a guy that I've wanted to write about for years. But I can't-it's too painful right now. There's a part of me that thinks that's ridiculous. It was over 30 years ago. Clearly though, part of it still haunts me. Fucking guy. Fuck  him.

I tried writing about a recent conversation I had with a friend. It was funny and introspective just like a good conversation should be. But I couldn't write that either. It reminded me of who I used to be  and it made me sad. Since I was hoping to write good things about my growth, I gave up. Fucking emotions. Fuck them.

A song comes on, one the same friend says reminds her of me. The chorus speaks of bravery and hope and about how to speak your mind.
Let your words be anything but empty. 
Let the words fall out. Say what you want to say. 

I worry about doing that. I worry about what people will think of me. I worry.

"You used to have balls dude! You didn't take shit from anyone! You were a badass!"

I was a lot stronger when I was younger. Before life, before people, showed me how cruel they can be.

What would I say if I didn't have to worry? What if I just let the words fall out?

I was 18 years old when my best friend told me she was pregnant and keeping the baby. I freaked out as though I was her mother. I shouted my opinions about the situation without hesitation and I was kind of a dick about it. But I didn't stop there. I went to the father's place of work and told him what I thought too.

I stood in the parking lot of his place of employment and told him what an idiot I thought he was for not being safe with a girl that was still in high school. He was older and should have known better I thought. I was livid. He didn't want to be with my friend anymore, hadn't for a while but he was still fucking her and it pissed me off. I was concerned my friend was going to be hurt and I was fiercely protective of my friends. While I yelled he nodded silently and took it. He never really said anything except, "you're right" which I guess would have satisfied some. It didn't me and I kept ill feelings for him longer even than the mother of his child did. I saw him 18 years later and it took everything inside me not to call him out on all he'd missed with his son but decided then it wasn't my place. Did I lose my balls or gain maturity? I've never really known.

Same friend, different man in her life. Her brother. He was terrible to her. He called her names and made fun of her until she cried. He treated her like she was worthless and it infuriated me. More than just sibling rivalry, he was cruel.  We picked him up from school one day and I laid into him. I did it again later when I was in his house, in front of his mother. I had no right to do that and as I type it I shake my head. Did he deserve it? Totally but should I have stepped in? I don't know. Maybe.

I told people they were making mistakes. I told them they were wrong. I told them why I thought they were and most of the time I didn't care if it pissed them off. Eventually I realized people not only didn't need to hear my opinion, they didn't deserve to be yelled at no matter how much I 'did it out of love'. I made mistakes, hurt people. I talked too much and fucked stuff up like everyone does in their 20s.

I got hurt too. Men and women hurt me with cutting remarks or personal attacks. Every time my 'balls' got smaller until they were gone and I didn't remember the girl that said what she wanted to say. The girl that let the words just fall out.

I still have opinions and I still like to talk about how I feel about them but -and maybe this comes with age- I'm more careful about how. I choose my subjects carefully, take into consideration the people I'm talking to. I keep quiet.

I don't want to do that anymore. I want my balls back. I want to say what I want to say. I don't want to care what others think. I can do that without being a dick. I can be brave.