In the car, we were looking for ourselves and found each other

I like car chats, just talking with people on the way to a place. With the right people, riding in a car is an experience difficult to duplicate. For whatever reason, I feel liberated, comfortable there expressing myself, in the right circumstance.

Never a full car, either- one person, the right person, riding shotgun or driving you somewhere. I’m glad I have a lot of friends that qualify on that front, people who would be good in a ‘car’ conversation.

I had one of those tonight- a bit of a cleansing, if you will. I was able to talk about things I wouldn’t have done otherwise, and I felt better afterwards.

I had one of those a couple of weeks ago, driving with someone that I normally wouldn’t have. Someone I respect tremendously, but have rarely interacted with in a one-on-one situation. That, too, was cathartic, in a number of ways, and something I appreciated more than I said then (or say now). Even when just listening, it’s more intimate, in a lot of ways, than I ever am in normal speech.

I’m someone who doesn’t forgive himself easily, but I’ve started to, in one particular case. Assigning blame is ultimately a fruitless exercise, especially on one’s self- learning and moving on is better. Easier said that done, to be sure, but holding a grudge- against myself, or someone else- isn’t productive. I’ve made mistakes, to be sure, but to dwell on them won’t accomplish anything. Right?

Sorry about being obscure, but that’s mostly intentional. It’s one of the struggles I have with blogging- how much to say about my life when there’s actual people involved (especially when said people could be reading it), and how much to keep under a cloak of anonymity .

Like any journalist, I’m protecting my sources. At least, that’s what I tell myself. And I like to think I’m expressing my thoughts without attempting to paint it in a particular light other than my own-  this is what I think, independent of what you might or might not know. We’re all imperfect, especially me.

This is starting to not make sense to me, which is a sure sign to tie it off.

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One thought on “In the car, we were looking for ourselves and found each other

  1. xstarfall

    Hey, I know what you mean about feeling urged (forced?) to keep things obscure in blogs. I kind of hate it.
    A long time ago I had this net friend who just let loose in her fully public blog. Parents, roommates, whoever it was, she’d just say anything about them, good or bad. At the time (and even still, a little) I had this deep admiration that she was able to do that. Myself, I never would, because gosh, what if that person read what I wrote about them and got mad at me for it? I think that’s a fairly normal sentiment, too.
    I started noticing that whenever she mentioned friends in her entries, they were always net friends. And I wondered if her lack of discretion was costing her some relationships in ‘real life’. That’s when I second-guessed my admiration of her tell-all blog.
    I guess I always hoped that when I spoke highly of someone without naming them, they’d know who they were. And that if I complained about someone, they wouldn’t. (Wouldn’t think it was them, but still would examine themselves ‘in case’ it was. Problem solved.)
    It all comes down to good writing. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.

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