My best friend has just hauled herself out of a sort-of-but-not-quite relationship with a man who was completely the wrong choice for her in all circumstances. As much of a relief as it is for her to be out of this situation that was only ever going to spiral downwards, it has also put her in a bit of a slump, because, as she admitted herself, it was a shame that it had to end with this particular man, however bad he was for her, and she is once again manless.
Why is it that we can never go for the things that are good for us, and make decisions that could ultimately benefit us in some way? It appears that our capacity for taking things for granted is so great that we end up throwing away the good things, choosing instead to either live a life of selfish, irresponsible complacency or go straight for the things that make us (temporarily) happy, but ultimately take away our faith, our hope, everything we once believed in.
We live by the creed that there is always a light at the end of the tunnel, that no matter how many times we ruin things for ourselves, there will always be that chance to learn from our mistakes — to run towards the light, so to speak. So we continue to dance around in the dark, doing exactly as we like without caring too much about anything or anyone else, and waiting for thunder and lightning to strike as a sign that it’s time to get a move on actually begin to care. And when thunder and lightning strike, and we decide to stop dancing and look around for that elusive light, we realize that it had been put out a long time ago.
So we are, it would seem, innately self-destructive people. Or maybe it’s just Becca and me.