When Good Comes Out of Bad

These last few days have been pretty shitty. Of course, it's been my own doing. Which makes it even worse.
I've harmed someone close to me, broken the trust given to me, overstepped boundaries that had been pretty well established. And now I'm crying over it because I'm a dumbass.

Still, some good has come of it.

I've discovered--or rather, rediscovered--that there are people willing to help me out, willing to be a shoulder to cry on, to put me in a warm and comforting embrace, to bring me out of my self-centered bad moods. Friends who I don't see on a regular basis have reached out and been so kind, have endured my stupid stories and my sour mood, have reassured me (perhaps falsely) that I am not an entirely terrible person.

It's good to know that one has friends.

And as for my victim. As for the friend I hurt, the close friend whose trust I broke. My victim has been extremely understanding. Though ultimately the problem won't be solved until we talk about this issue face-to-face, I've gotten help along the way. Yes, even from him. Especially from him. Despite my selfish and terrible and disgusting actions, he's still there for me, to some capacity. I can't get what I want from him--the hug, the smile, the pat on the head, the "It's okay, I understand"--no, not yet. He's not ready for that yet. And who am I to complain? I created the problem in the first place.

A final good coming out of this: I think the root cause of this problem has been discovered. And with that, it can be remedied. I'm making the steps toward seeking professional help for my issues, since I think I've bothered my friends enough. But more than that, I think I've reached an understanding within myself about what I need to do to prevent this from happening again. I can't promise that I'll be able to do it. It's really out of my control. But I will try my utmost to control it--not to suppress it, but to engage with it and to reason with it.

The heart is hard to translate, as Florence sings. And sometimes, when it speaks in the language of its own, it's hard to have a dialogue with it. It's hard to tell it to "calm yo shit." But I think it's possible. And I'd love to see that day when I heart no longer needs to fight against my brain, the day when the two are compatible. Might be a while away. But it'll be good once I get there.

And I will love to see that day

That day is mine

When she will marry me outside

With the willow tree

And play the songs we made

They made me so

And I would love to see that day

Her day was mine