Under The Weight

A friend asked me the other night why it is that I'm so pessimistic about love. I think her exact words were "Tyler, why don't you think real love exists?" That wasn't really the question she was asking, because she knew that I know that it exists. What she meant was "Tyler, why don't you think you'll ever find it?" That's a complicated question. I told her I didn't want to talk about it, but she asked later a couple more times and I started telling her some of my reasons, which led to other reasons, which led to me crying. I didn't mean to, I just did. She felt bad for asking after that, and we talked about something else. What I should say before I write anything else is that I'm doing well. Honestly. My answer to her question, and the realization that came along with it, was what broke me down. My mom used to think that I was so pessimistic about love because a girl I know broke up with me unexpectedly in 10th grade, but that's not true. I don't think I thought about that anymore after the end of 10th grade. I used to think it was because I had had too many things not work out like I wanted them to, and I had read too many dark books where the main character almost loves for real but doesn't get to, for one reason or another, like in Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close where the grandfather lost the girl he loved deeply when he was younger because she was killed in the Dresden bombings. I used to want to go to Dresden, but not after reading that book. Or like in Atonement, where something richly moving and tragic happens that I still haven't gotten my mind around and that I won't tell you about because it wouldn't affect you like it should unless you had read it or saw the movie. Some things you can't just hear about. One thing I loved about the movie-version of Atonement was how Briony, when she had grown up, was always washing her hands. Also, there was a string of scenes where she would be under a light and it would go out. This is the sort of movie where symbolism isn't crammed down your throat, its just there, and if you wish to see it you may. She couldn't escape her mistakes. Also, she couldn't escape herself. Things were wrong, and no amount of scrubbing could fix them.
     I figured out, when I was kind-of-talking-kind-of-crying-kind-of-giving-up the other night, why it is that I think the way I do about love. At least, how I have been thinking about it. It's simple, but then again most everything is. I can't explain why it affected me like it did, I can just say it did. I don't even know how to say it, except that when I was in 10th grade something happened that I didn't stop thinking about, that I haven't stopped thinking about, which is that my best friend's sister who loved deeply and was loved deeply and lived deeply was killed in a car wreck.

I'm in heavy rain.

That's the place where, when I had dug long enough, and late enough, the root ended. I heard that her dad went around their property digging holes for months after she died. Maybe he still does. There's been more snow on the boughs of my heart since then. That's why when people talk to me about love, my mind and heart are responding

true,false,false,false,false,false,false,false,false,false,true,false,true.

I believe some of it, but not much. It's not always this way. I mean my heart isn't always this way. For now, though, love is a house that burned down, and we were all still inside.

I think about Christ's resurrection often. I think about it mostly because it actually happened, and because of what that means, because I used to want it to have happened so badly and now, its more simple than that. I don't just want it, I know it. Just like a baby being born. Either it's there or it's not. I don't think about what love would be like anymore. Either it's going to show or it's not. I don't know if good things climb out of dark places. I know it has happened before, like when Jesus came back from the dead, but that doesn't mean it always happens. That's why, when people ask me about love, I would say, if they could understand,

"there was a wreck, and some of us are still inside"