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Chapter Seven - The Young And Stupid - |
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I was too young. I had no business entering into a serious relationship with anyone. Saying that now leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I had been so high and mighty about age with 3a. Nobody should be allowed to date any one person for more than a year before age thirty. “Sorry, miss, your time is up. Move along, now.” You just don’t have enough experience under your belt. There certainly wasn’t enough experience under my belt. Moving to Los Angeles opened my eyes considerably. Meeting people from extremely diverse backgrounds clued my mere mortal brain into the reality that there is a lot of world out there. I suffered from Midwest-it is. We flat-landers really are a bunch of know-it-alls with an inflated sense of self. It’s a weird plateau of arrogance resting atop a mountain of inferiority. We should all be actors. Or Canadian. Part of that was my rock star ego in action, but in general my sphere was limited in scope. It was a real mind fuck to learn and accept what a small piece of the planet I actually occupied. But with that knowledge came freedom. A switch was flipped inside me and I was able to learn. Not the rote that they pawn off as education in public schools (In fourteen hundred ninety-two, blah, blah, blah), I’m talking about absorbing and grasping ideas and concepts; really being able to put two and two together; cultivating acceptance of other people and cultures. The more you know, the more you know how little you know. The belief that one knows everything there is to know is the domain of stupid youth.
I had been stupid. I don’t say that lightly. Beyond simply not knowing anything, I wasn’t smart enough to ask anyone for guidance. I let myself suffer, not always in silence, and made life miserable for others as well. One of the most irritating things about maturing is the awareness of how damn young you really were. Bad decisions I’d made were noshing on my ass. If only I was done making them. Stupid youth was what I contributed to the deterioration of my relationship with 3b. My excuse for bad behavior used to be simply that I was a guy, as if that was a get out of jail free card. “What went wrong?” “Don’t look at me. I’m just a guy.” Guys are always the last to know. Everything takes us by surprise. We don’t have the powers of concentration required to sustain a relationship on the level most women demand. I believed that. It was the easy way out of shouldering responsibility. Would it have been so hard to pay attention? That’s really all women want, right? Pay attention. And then pay more attention. And when you think you’ve reached saturation, ask. I didn’t pay attention. I was too busy being busy. I had a career to let slip through my fingers; I had stuff to acquire. Mostly, I had a suddenly and newly open mind that was filling up with new thoughts. It was all so exciting for me that I left 3b behind. Actually, I left her alone. I was either: 1) too narcissistic to share my experiences and thoughts; 2) didn’t understand the value of sharing those experiences and thoughts; or 3) just didn’t want to share them with her. I haven’t quite figured out which.
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