Stoopid connection

Sigh, the internet connection in my new apartment refuses to come up, so here’s a coupla random ramblings I tossed up on a tired Friday night.

Today I saw a squirrel on the road as I was wandering about campus. Somehow, this particular squirrel caught my attention and held it, not for the usual banal reasons of cuteness or dignity, but for its hesitance. It was doing that odd hopping thing squirrels do when they’re in a hurry, but not in the usual way. Instead of the smooth graceful motions that are the norm, it was doing a half hop, then pausing, making a motion to continue with the next hop, but hesitating, then finally lurching into another semi-aborted hop. This continued for a while, before the squirrel eventually gave up and started walking.

I somehow relate to that. The urge to crash into high gear held back by a sense of complacency and sloth. I feel like I should be upping the tempo, surging forward in search of something, but after a few stumbling steps, I lose all momentum, and a more plodding pace ensues.

Sometimes, I feel like I try too hard. I reach and stretch to accommodate. Now, I am a little worn out and tired, lacking the energy to keep making an effort to reach out. So I stop and rest for a while. Then I discover that when I stop reaching out, there is no effort on the other side to reach out to me instead. If this is the case, then I am merely being a fool to resume my efforts to bridge the gap. Effort has to be directed in all directions, or I can only term the entire affair a case of wishful thinking. I feel the need to close the gap, but others do not. They merely allow the gap to be closed, but see no need to put in any investment of their own. So why continue an effort that is so selfish on both sides? The other parties just take and take, with no input, nor any apparent desire to provide any. I, on the other hand, am the only one who actually desires the continuation of the connection. Perhaps it is better, more sensible, less wrenching to simply let things fall away. The bridge has already deteriorated, and onlookers wonder why I do not repair it. Well, if I am the only one who crosses the bridge, I suppose it is reasonable that I am the only one who has to maintain it. Yet if I am the only one who uses and maintains it, there seems little point in continuing to keep it up. After all, a bridge should have traffic both ways.

Maybe I am wrong. Maybe when I tired and let the bridge fail, the other party thought I lost interest, and so acted accordingly. If this is the case, then it is certainly my fault. Still, I am beginning to wonder if it is unreasonable to occasionally expect some reciprocal efforts at understanding and communication. After all, if communication only runs one way, then it can only be termed a failure.

I too can become angry, tired, hurt, despairing. These are more than mere surface emotions, to surface when something obvious occurs. Simple apathy, a lack of appreciation, a refusal to even try to scratch the surface, an instant defensive reaction, a demonstration of a complete lack of understanding. These are things that arouse that emotion which I let swell in my breast, but refuse to unleash.

Perhaps I was right the first time, and things should be allowed to rest at the stage of letting enough be enough. I am lost for a direction, and at this point, my pride does not let me run back whimpering without even the slightest indication of mutual desire for continuation. Much as I may have resembled one in the past, I am no dog, to return to its master without condition. The very notion offends me so deeply I am tempted to set my anger loose. But that would be of little use. Better to let things fade and die quietly. Would that death be subtle and quick, not to torment me more. Yet I must admit, all I need is the slightest hint for my rectitude to flee from me completely. I despair of its coming.