Ben Johannes and the Infinite Sadness

A little over a month ago, my girlfriend broke up with me.  It was about as amicable as could be; there was no argument, no yelling, really no hard feelings whatsoever.  The impetuses of the split didn't reflect too poorly on either of us.  And while I didn't want to take this course of action and I certainly was and still am upset that the breakup happened,  I want her to be happy.

While the two of us were having "the talk", she said, "Let's try to be happy." At the time, I didn't think much of it, and even she seemed kinda confused by her statement. It, superficially, appeared to be the kind of thing one says when they don't know what to say but they want to say something positive in a bad situation.  And at first, that's what I took it as. But as the days have passed, I realized that this turned out to be highly insightful and pertinent, especially for me.  I don't know if this was her intention when she said it (a high possibility, she's a very smart girl, smarter than I) or not, but this small imperative perfectly encapsulates the struggle of holding on to our happiness.

In my month-long examination of "what went wrong" I have learned what I always kind of knew about myself: injustice is infuriating to me.  Injustice isn't totally the right word, and to say that me getting broken up with was an injustice would be a gross and almost offensive overstatement.  Somalian genocide is an injustice.  I'm just a guy who got dumped.  No in this instance, I get upset because even though all the elements were adding up to one result, another happened.

Now the obvious foil to this is, "Well, Ben, sometimes shit happens.  And you can't always get what you want."  I know that.  I get that.  I even accept that most of the time.  But really, things just don't happen for no reason; there is almost always some motivation.  You may think that Angela is talking trash about you behind your back for no reason, but really there some reason.  Maybe she wants the same guy you want.  Maybe you wronged her in the past and she's holding a grudge.  Maybe she's just a bitch. (Angela, you bitch)  It doesn't have to be a good reason, but there is a reason.  But every once in a while, something happens for no reason.  I was a good boyfriend.  I was kind, honest, funny, and engaging.  I treated her with great respect.  This is not debatable and not me just not seeing my flaws; I am the first person to see my flaws (stubbornness is my number one).  She and I liked each other, were attracted to each other, both physically and emotionally, and were mentally compatible.  All signs point to continued success (success being "the relationship goes on").  But it didn't.

Now, I'm a big boy.  I will get over it and will bounce back in some way.  I always have.  I have a lot of legitimate prospects going for me: I'm intelligent. I work hard. I am pretty good-looking.  I am charming and engaging (at least in person...trust me, Skeptical Reader).  I will land on my feet.  But why do this and other problems with no reason take me so long to get over?  If anything, I should be pleased with the fact that, really, it wasn't my fault.  When I'm wronged by Angela, I don't dwell on it because I understand that she is always gonna talk behind my back because she's a bitch.  That's just how it goes.  But when one of these unprovoked wrongs happens, when it's out of my control or out of the grasp of reason, that kills me.

What afflicts me is ultimately not the outcome itself.  It's not the consequences of that outcome.  Rather it's how the outcome came to be.  And I can't let that go.  Why? In my estimation, it is a combination of my highly-developed senses of justice and logic and my arrogance.  Despite my behavior that would lead one to believe otherwise, most everything I do or say is done with a logical purpose.  Again, nothing happens for nothing.  A wise man named Kele Okereke once said, "You get sadder the smarter you get," and that applies here.  This is not to say I'm necessarily smarter than most, but rather that I think about and am more aware of the motivations of others.  And because I expect a logical and just conclusion to things, when something different happens, I'm frustrated.  My arrogance is associated more with being stubborn than pure hubris.  I trust only myself and refuse the help of others at times because of this.  Of course there is some hubris involved (the self-indulgence of this piece, for instance), but my arrogance comes from years of being conditioned to face a problem head on and defeat it.  Some of my acquaintances will say, "But, Benjo, when you're pissed or glum, you just sit around and play videogames."  But while that is happening, I'm not saying "woe is me".  Rather, I am constantly formulating ways to overcome my issue and avoid it in the future.

But maybe I should just wallow in self-pity and be done with it.  While others move on, I am stuck constantly reopening the wounds of past conflicts of which I, usually, could never have any affect on the outcome.  Trying to move forward with open wounds is impossible and there is no way I could be without that "healing".  This is not to say I am depressed; depression is something very real on a chemical level and that is not my situation.  But I do put myself at a level below what my potential happiness should be.

So how do I fix this?  I can't just not think about it.  My brain is too active and I am too intelligent for that.  For me to force my non-thought would be simply ignoring things and to do that would be to fundamentally change my being, something I either cannot or am not prepared to do.  So the burden lies with me addressing my arrogance.  To better myself and to make myself happier and a more complete person, not just in a relationship setting but also in my job, family interactions, and life in general, I must get past, or at least tame this streak.  I don't know how I'm going to do that.  But I think recognition is a solid first step.

I don't know what is going to become of the relationship between my ex and myself.  I want there to be some involvement of some kind.  But even if there isn't, as big a shame as that would be, I do need to thank her for asking me to be happy.  Without it, I wouldn't be thinking of this.  I wouldn't be have recognized this.  And I wouldn't be trying.