On The Prospect Of Change
I hate when people tell me I have “changed.”
Throughout my life that is the one comment that has always made my blood boil. The anger that it creates in me is unrivaled by any back-handed insult or petty exchange. The hurt that it causes throughout my whole body is more than emotional, it is physical and real. My entire being throbs and I want to discard the individual whose hollow mouth exhaled such an injustice into the world.
I find the comment willfully ignorant and selfish. Those who cast such charges against me betray their own deficiency in understanding the real me, the man behind it all, the small boy whose all grown up and still feels the way he felt about life and his place on earth. It makes me doubt that they ever knew me at all, and I believe that is why it hurts so much.
I am janus-faced. I am a multitude of people wrapped in a thin veil of flesh. I am the life of the party, a social butterfly that you would swear was never an awkward caterpillar. This me always had wings, never suffering from the unsure creep of its causal predecessor. I am a quiet loner, much happier by myself and kept busy only with the streams of consciousness flowing through my mind. This me likes thinking and analyzing various metaphysical ideas, and then analyzing my previous analysis–a never ending cycle of assumptions, assertions, and doubt. I am the best friend you ever had, a minute away if you needed anything. This me lives to make your life better, an ear always open and a hand never unwilling to help. I am distant and cold, living off the moment I exist within and not caring much for those who I cannot see or feel outside the bounds of their general wellbeing. This me loves you and needs to know you’re alright, but does not need anything more to be happy.
I’ve been struggling lately with friends from another life. A life in which every weekend was free and neither began nor ended, simply extended on indefinitely. This life was college–the least amount of responsibility and the most amount of freedom we will all ever experience. These friends from this past life have been hurt by the aspect of my personality that is absorbed heavily in the life I live now: eleven hour work days and split days off, ten to nine, friday and sunday off. The eternal weekend supplanted by the eternal hustle. This is my professional life.
They scoff and moan, insisting that I’ve changed. I have not, but my life has. I am no longer a minute away, no longer unshackled and free. I am confined and controlled. I have obligations and responsibilities that I would die to forget. I miss them all, but that isn’t enough. They don’t want to accept that I live an extremely different lifestyle than even they do in their own professional lives. Eight to five with weekends off sounds like a vacation to me.
I wish they could understand, but I believe they choose not to, instead opting for passive aggressive assaults on my character. “He’s changed.” How could I not in some degree? How can another year of life not somehow create in me new multitudes of men, all new and shaped from the unique experiences in which only I have endured. Yet at my core I am the same as I always was. I am still the person you love and grew to call “friend.” Is it so hard to see?
Change does not frighten me, because I know that it will only amend the already ambiguous cloud that is my personality. As a child I loved history, and girls, and the idea of love, and freedom, and pickles, and all the stupid little things that still make my day. All the things that will always make my day.
On the most fundamental level we don’t ever truly change from who we are; we just wear the different faces that the world paints upon us. I understand that and still love you all deeply, though you have changed in your own ways. But if you cannot accept the me that you once did, when only circumstance and prospect has changed, then I cannot stand next to you any longer.
It’s not a threat. It’s not an ultimatum. It’s just something that isn’t going to happen.
2 Responses to “On The Prospect Of Change”
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May 13th, 2008 at 2:33 am
Hey man. I think you’ve changed.
July 8th, 2008 at 11:29 pm
My intent is to reply to “The Paradox of Progress”, however the site will not allow for such conduct….will have to post here. I am grateful for the essay. It captivates a humanist reality accessible only to those who have any sense of humanity and idealism. I say this not to assume a moral high ground, but to accentuate the blatant truth of the destructiveness of the modern day world, which is so eloquently captured in the cerebrations of the post. How Thanatos thrives in this ubiquitously false-intelligence-leaden world….and how cathartic to read your eloquent composition. Thank you.