There’s this dramatic and horribly emotional painful scene at the end of the second season of Buffy where she has to fight Angel, who she’s of course completely in love with and lost her virginity to only now he’s gone evil and is trying to suck the world into hell and she has to kill him and she’s all alone and it’s all heartbreak and tears. Angel is about to stab her and says to her “now that’s everything, huh. No weapons, no friends, no hope. Take that away and what’s left?” And Buffy looks at him and says, “me.” And of course she doesn’t die (this time) only she does have to kill him just as the good returns to him and there’s even more heartbreak than before. With the kissing and the stabbing and the crying.
Sometimes I feel like Buffy right as she’s grabbing the sword to keep it from plunging into her chest — alone, yet needing to somehow find strength within herself to keep fighting. and then I think, well, that’s a little overly dramatic, isn’t it? It’s not like my boyfriend is barreling at me with a sword as he tries to drag the world into a swirling vortex of hell. and then I think, I am comparing my life to a made up TV show. A TV show about vampires. No wonder my life is such a mess.
The alone thing is really getting to me though. Not just being alone, but making decisions alone, relying on myself. In my professional life, that’s easy. My personal life? Not quite so much. I think it’s because I can objectively evaluate the professional stuff. With things that involve me directly, I can’t step outside myself and take a broader view, so I feel blind. I like seeing the big picture and it’s difficult to see that in my own life. I want to hear what someone who is outside looking in has to say. But you can’t always have that. Sometimes, you have to fly blind and hope for the best. And really, even if you do have that, who’s to say you’re getting good advice, if that person has the same view that you’d have from the same vantage point. It only feels more sure when you get confirmation from someone else. That doesn’t actually make it more sure.
I guess there comes a point where you have to trust yourself, even if that feels like walking about on a wobbly bridge with loose wooden slats and fraying ropes. You hold your breath and pray you don’t fall. And you don’t fall.