Greetings.
Why do we protect? Some leftover gene from the days when chivalry was as close to godliness (aside from cleanliness) as one could get? Some sick satisfaction we get from it? A religion? No, I believe that when we have someone/something we love, it is pure animal instinct that we secure it.
Is protecting someone you love or care about worth hurting someone else? The answer this time, however, is undefined.
In the case that someone is pointing a gun at your mom, by all means, smack him on the back of the head with a frying pan. But when it comes to emotional protection, how far do you go? I am no psychologist. I am no counselor. I am a loyal friend and a fierce fighter for my loved ones. I just told Jasper to abandon the movie plan because he's still hung up on Mickie. I told him that unless he is fully committed to the idea of dedicating all of his time to Bennie, then forget it. I told him I wasn't going to help him pry Mickie away from Bentley because if he wants her bad enough, he should grow the balls to do it himself. I think that if he loves her so much, he should just LET HER BE HAPPY. But I know he won't listen. I know he's going to find some way to get into Bennie's heart and then break it three months later when he tells her that he's still not over Mickie. Hopefully he'll have the sense to leave out Mickie's name. But that's exactly the same thing I did to Victor, my first real boyfriend. (See "My Love Life Part 3: Victor Hausen") I was still kind of hung up on Freddy and Aaron and I strung him along for almost three months. For what? I cried my eyes out because I felt horrible for using a perfectly nice guy. Victor went into a deep funk because he thought everything I had told him was a lie, and Aaron and Freddy felt guilty that they were the cause of so much unhappiness. I hurt four people in one blow. And Jasper is about to do the same. So I felt I had to do something. Otherwise the guilt would torment me for years to come.
I still don't know how far you go to protect someone. But I know I'll go as far as it takes for no one to get hurt. And if I hurt someone in the process, I have failed. I like to think I am a selfless person in one respect: I will protect anyone I love with everything that I have, but if I save someone else from pain even if it causes my heart to suffer, I will live with it. I will sacrifice my own pleasure, for the most part, for someone else, or even more than one, to find love and happiness. And I'd like to think that my reprimand of Jasper helped someone. Maybe not me, maybe not him, but maybe Bennie, Mickie, and Bentley. I won't know until I receive that hysterical phone call/brother in my room if I have helped anyone.
But I hope I did.
Hugz
HM
Showing posts with label protect. Show all posts
Showing posts with label protect. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Friday, May 21, 2010
Life's Most Important Lesson
Greetings.
Well, you know how you do silly things with your friends that you probably wouldn't do with people you don't know as well? Well, Pete Sanders is the supreme king of such things. He is weird; his favorite silly, yet creepy, thing to do is to place his hand under the table and squeeze Lucky, Joss, and Joseph's knees. Just those three because those are the three that always sit near him. On one side of the table is usually Pete, Emma, Joss, and Bennie or Freddy. On the other side is Lucky, Joseph, me, and Bennie when Freddy joins us. We share a booth that really should only accommodate six people but no one listens to the squished big girl. Well anyways, Pete was squeezing their knees again and it was particularly annoying Joseph, who sits next to me on my left. He told Pete that he was going to leave and that I would not be happy and kill him (Pete), and I so would. Joseph even let me grab onto his shoulders as my way of saying "Make him leave and die, Pete" and "Please don't go, Joseph". But of course, Pete being the butthead he is, he won't stop. So Joseph turns to me and says, "Please make him stop." I kid you not; I'm like his bodyguard. Well, in this case, more like his poke shield. So I told Pete to stop, but he didn't, so Joseph turned to me and whispered, "Give him incentive to stop." I smiled; the guy I love was giving me permission to beat the hell out of a guy I don't care whether or not I beat up. I was happy. So I looked Pete directly in the eyes and said, "Touch him one more time and I swear, I'll make you eat your math book." (And our books are over 1100 pages!) His eyes got wide, because he knew I meant it. And he stopped. I'm proud of myself. Pete doesn't usually listen to people.
But pretty much my whole school knows not to tick me off; once sophomore year, (it was after school) The Three Stooges, Dillon Xavier, Tim Schraeder, and Ian Randall, came up to me, Bennie, Joss, and Joseph, and started being obscenely rude to Bennie and Joss. They were making jokes about both Bennie and Joss's physicality, Joss's nationality (like I said before, she's from South Korea), and they even were abusing Joseph and me. I saw the look of terror in Joseph's eyes (he was almost sexually molested freshman year by these two guys whom he had known since sixth grade and who have always had him on the chopping block; luckily I intervened in time and I got them both suspended) and Bennie looked like she was about to cry and Joss looked angry but, given that she's as big around as my pinky, she couldn't stand up to them. So I got up from where I was sitting and said to the Stooges, "Hey, guys, I wanna show you something." So I took all of them to the gym; my P.E. teacher had left the kickboxing bags out. I told them to imagine that the bags (heavily padded and anchored to the ground by over fifty pounds of sand in a hollow stand) were them. They sneered and said okay. I took off my shoes, walked up to a row of three of the bags, and proceeded to demonstrate. I roundhouse kicked the first one; it fell over. The second one I punched twice, once where Tim's nose would be and the other where his ... would be; that one fell over as well. The third one I pretended was Dillon, who had been the most aggressive toward my friends, I performed a spinning kick where his face would be; the bag fell over and rolled away, hitting the wall. I turned back to my assailants and my friends; Ian, Dillon, and Tim stood there open-mouthed. Joss, Bennie, and Joseph were smiling at me. I walked up to the Stooges, got right up in their faces, and said, really quiet and scary-like, "Now, are you going to bother my friends again?"
I have never seen three athletic and self-proclaimedly macho guys shuffle out of a gym so fast. It just goes to show one thing, Life's Most Important Lesson: No matter who you are, be you Steve Urkel or Chuck Norris, you NEVER mess with Harmony Margaret Walker's friends.
Hugz
HM
Well, you know how you do silly things with your friends that you probably wouldn't do with people you don't know as well? Well, Pete Sanders is the supreme king of such things. He is weird; his favorite silly, yet creepy, thing to do is to place his hand under the table and squeeze Lucky, Joss, and Joseph's knees. Just those three because those are the three that always sit near him. On one side of the table is usually Pete, Emma, Joss, and Bennie or Freddy. On the other side is Lucky, Joseph, me, and Bennie when Freddy joins us. We share a booth that really should only accommodate six people but no one listens to the squished big girl. Well anyways, Pete was squeezing their knees again and it was particularly annoying Joseph, who sits next to me on my left. He told Pete that he was going to leave and that I would not be happy and kill him (Pete), and I so would. Joseph even let me grab onto his shoulders as my way of saying "Make him leave and die, Pete" and "Please don't go, Joseph". But of course, Pete being the butthead he is, he won't stop. So Joseph turns to me and says, "Please make him stop." I kid you not; I'm like his bodyguard. Well, in this case, more like his poke shield. So I told Pete to stop, but he didn't, so Joseph turned to me and whispered, "Give him incentive to stop." I smiled; the guy I love was giving me permission to beat the hell out of a guy I don't care whether or not I beat up. I was happy. So I looked Pete directly in the eyes and said, "Touch him one more time and I swear, I'll make you eat your math book." (And our books are over 1100 pages!) His eyes got wide, because he knew I meant it. And he stopped. I'm proud of myself. Pete doesn't usually listen to people.
But pretty much my whole school knows not to tick me off; once sophomore year, (it was after school) The Three Stooges, Dillon Xavier, Tim Schraeder, and Ian Randall, came up to me, Bennie, Joss, and Joseph, and started being obscenely rude to Bennie and Joss. They were making jokes about both Bennie and Joss's physicality, Joss's nationality (like I said before, she's from South Korea), and they even were abusing Joseph and me. I saw the look of terror in Joseph's eyes (he was almost sexually molested freshman year by these two guys whom he had known since sixth grade and who have always had him on the chopping block; luckily I intervened in time and I got them both suspended) and Bennie looked like she was about to cry and Joss looked angry but, given that she's as big around as my pinky, she couldn't stand up to them. So I got up from where I was sitting and said to the Stooges, "Hey, guys, I wanna show you something." So I took all of them to the gym; my P.E. teacher had left the kickboxing bags out. I told them to imagine that the bags (heavily padded and anchored to the ground by over fifty pounds of sand in a hollow stand) were them. They sneered and said okay. I took off my shoes, walked up to a row of three of the bags, and proceeded to demonstrate. I roundhouse kicked the first one; it fell over. The second one I punched twice, once where Tim's nose would be and the other where his ... would be; that one fell over as well. The third one I pretended was Dillon, who had been the most aggressive toward my friends, I performed a spinning kick where his face would be; the bag fell over and rolled away, hitting the wall. I turned back to my assailants and my friends; Ian, Dillon, and Tim stood there open-mouthed. Joss, Bennie, and Joseph were smiling at me. I walked up to the Stooges, got right up in their faces, and said, really quiet and scary-like, "Now, are you going to bother my friends again?"
I have never seen three athletic and self-proclaimedly macho guys shuffle out of a gym so fast. It just goes to show one thing, Life's Most Important Lesson: No matter who you are, be you Steve Urkel or Chuck Norris, you NEVER mess with Harmony Margaret Walker's friends.
Hugz
HM
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