Jun 13, 2005

over (it)

When I was a young teenager, or a young adult, or whatever they call that precious pre-middle school age, I wanted to be a film maker. I also wanted to write, direct and and I wanted to act in films.
I wanted to be a star. I had alot of dreams about it. Vivid dreams. Specific dreams. Day dreams and night dreams and I wrote and I schemed about it. I suppose this is all quite typical.
But really, much of this dream was a part of who I am and became: I love films, I still write. Much of this fantasy was a part of who I was to become. But another part: the part of me that wanted to be in the films, that wanted to be an actress, was not so much part of what I was to become as what I wanted as part of youth. It was wanting attention and the fancy of decoration.
Still it's hard to get over certain things, and so I pictured myself as this different sort of person, I imagined myself as a performer. Long after I learned that I did not enjoy being on stage, that I did not like acting, and that I did not want to be in front of a rolling camera, I still wanted to be that performing star.
It's just how I saw myself. It's who I was.
That I was a terrible actress, that I film badly and blush readily infront of a crowd wasn't so easy to admit, and it wasn't so easy to get over. Even after I KNEW I didn't want it. Because knowing I didn't like or want something anymore made me feel so different.
So new... and so much older.
Who was that person who used to want something so badly, something I no longer even held a whisp of yearning for?
I think of this sometimes. The art of moving on, and the art of getting over things. Even silly things like this.
At first it's the longing and the alive fantasy of all the happiness and promise you hoped for that is hard to let go of. You dont really want to let go, and you are finding an excuse to hold on to something. Be it person, place or dream.
Then there is that part where you want to let go but know you just can't yet. You yearn for it like a drug. Forget what you can't have. Forget why you dont want it. Want almost for the sake of desire.
These parts are hard. The breaking away. The open wound.
Then there is that part nobody talks about. The part when you are finally just about over it. When you no longer want to be a ballerina or find the cure for cancer or be his bride. And that feels strange too. Because thats when you know you are different. You are a different person than you were, so recently, when you really wanted something else.
We are our desires. What we want and who we want to be is a big part of who we are.
Getting over something, getting over WANTING something changes us. It IS the nature of change, it is the change itself. And that moment, when you know you've finally let go of the wanting, is a startling one, especially when the hole left or the new desire found still begs the question:
Who am I now?
We silly aren't static. Our hopes and dreams need to change to keep up vital. Our cursery needs and signficant wishes alter with or without our connivance. Often, change is good. Still, sometimes it's hard to not want to hold on just a little bit longer to a part of ourselves we are so familiar with.
Perhaps so many things in life are difficult to let go of because the person, place or dream hardest to miss is ourself.

4 comments:

pez said...

the term for not quite a kid, not quite a teenager, (10-13 or so) is "tween".

daff0dil said...

I refuse to use that term

heydt said...

In every way, i support, defend, and applaud that decision.

Bjetsey said...

yeah, I can identify with missing a strong desire of the past. Sometimes I look back on my strong desires that went unfulfilled and faded away, and shake my head. These days when I get that type of pure excitement and glee and desire, I revel in it. This is how my experience of anticipating moving has been - like waiting for christmas morning.