Watching Change

Today I sat across from a man. A man who has inherited a responsibility he didn't ask for. He really isn't prepared for it. He sat on the other side of the table and tried to understand, tried to hold onto his place in the world. The spot he believes he has known, owned and understood. How hard it is to wrap your mind around change. To accept that what you thought you knew might not after all, be what you knew it to be.

Today I wanted to reach out to a man in need. I felt his pain because I caused it. But this is mine. I do know how to make a better place for those that are with me, counting on me and my compassion to give them a a moment of solace. It was hard to watch. I wanted to help him. For all I know how to do, the hardest thing for me to know and accept is that I can't help him. It isn't his fault he's never been prepared for the reality now before him. He doesn't know anything else. The last woman in my position treated him like a child. He was never made to grow up. But it isn't my fault that he's never been prepared for the world either. That was another series of unfortunate events that occurred long before I came along.

I watched him. I sat and watched him without a word. I could see the sense of victimization flit across his face. Then the internal accusation reach outward to me in his body language and the deep marring across his once likeable face. If only I would take back those words. Follow the path of all those women before me. Not question, or demand more. Keep doing it the way it's always been done. Then he wouldn't have to grow up. He wouldn't have to accept that responsibility he isn't ready for. Wouldn't have to reexamine hs choices. Look into the mirror and growl at the changes I imposed. Why can't I just keep it the way it's always been?

I sat and watched and waited wordlessly.

He finally reached for his stack of well arranged excuses he's carried with him as long as he can recall. Displaying them to me, showing me how it used to be, how it could be again and stood. Then I saw the final level of defeat. The small hope that maybe he could find someone who would make me accept that it had to keep being the way it has always been. I realized then that I wasn't watching change, I was watching failure.

So many things I could teach him. So many ways I could help him. Why didn't he listen to me when I told him? He came to play at life, I came for blood. Why is that so hard to believe? I don't have that pretty a face. Sooner or later the one behind him will inherit a mantle he isn't prepared for either. Then he too will sit across from me.

Like little domino's lining up one after the other, waiting for me to see reason. To accept their failure as mine. To bow to their chosen ignorance, and take the path always traveled. Firefly 5, culturally unprepared men, zero. Sooner or later, a man amongst them is going to reach out and stay my hand. I'm getting impatient expecting him.

For now, I keep waiting to watch change.