I once read in the book, Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott that a climax is death of some sort. Whether a character dies, or a part of a character dies, or a friendship dies, etc.
The point is death.
At least that’s what I think she said in the book, I can’t fully remember. If anyone knows for sure, let me know.
I’m thinking of killing and burying something in my life. It’s more like an image that I have in my head of what exactly I want my life to be or what I think my life should be. When I was little, as I’m sure every child does, I dreamed of what my life would be like. You know, those ‘planning games’ every one used to play… or at least I did with my friends. Married by 26, babies by 28, living as a very wealthy writer who has such important opinions that people hunt you down for them before they can form their own. My husband would be tall, dark, and handsome, of course. He was going to appear in the next movie of Sherlock Holmes playing, of course, the witty, clever detective but decided to let Robert Downey Jr. ‘have it’ instead so he could be with me. Yeah, those types of plans.
Somewhere along the lines, my dreams became more specific and detail oriented and I was holding on to those dreams for so long that every step I was making was failing those dreams in one way or another. Furthermore, things started to unexpectedly pop up. In addition, time started flying by without my consent.
It’s like I woke up and thought, “How exactly did I get here? This isn’t what I had in mind.”
What upsets me is that I’m still holding on to some of those dreams. Despite growing up somewhere along the lines, I forgot to realize that dreams like that don’t necessarily come true. In addition, life isn’t like how people planned. Life is unexpected, messy, formless. Trying to figure things out and plan things just doesn’t always work out. Letting go of the wheel and finding out things turned out just fine is usually how the story goes.
It’s hard to let go of dreams.
Trust me, I’m trying and it’s heartbreaking.
Truth is that I have to let them go. I was creating something that was too fantastical. I was planning for things to happen that weren’t just going to up and happen. I thought I would just be walking down the street and poof! my life would somehow fall into place. I was waiting for opportunities that weren’t coming and weren’t going to come not because I’m not capable but because I had it in my head that the world I was living in was easy. Doesn’t everyone somehow magically achieve their dreams on a Thursday at 3 p.m.? No? Just in my dreams? Perhaps.
I’m doing more damage by holding on to the dreams than I am by letting go.
Sometimes, it’s okay to let things go.
Such in this case of dreaming so much that you can no longer accept reality. Not that I think ‘settling’ is what I mean, but if you spend all your days in your head that reality feels like ‘settling’ then yes, there’s a problem.
Life is no fairy tale.
Things don’t always work out the way you want them to. Plus, there’s always that nasty little realization of receiving what you want and then finding out it’s not what you wanted at all.
Life is confusing. Have I stated that yet?
Nevertheless, death needs to occur. I need to become a murderer to save myself. Who would have thought? Not I.
So, I’ll sharpen my blade, find some chloroform, and possibly do it Dexter style. Quick and painless… at least on the murderer’s end.
Going to get some plastic sheets now.