I. Hate. Studying.
Also, I hate not having something interesting to talk about. Given this, I can also appreciate silence. I feel as if there are some people in the world who cannot for the life of them stand the sound of silence.
In all honesty, it can scare me at times. Silence can be "deafening." It can hurt. It can force you to encounter thoughts or emotions which you never knew you had or were too terrified to encounter. However, silence can also be sweet, endearing, gentle and necessary.
I can appreciate a situation when two people are so comfortable with each other that conversation is unnecessary. I admire when a couple sits on a park bench, holding hands or drinking coffee and just enjoys time together. Silence is something that forces me to realize that while time is limitless, it is also very precious. I know that my time is fairly insignificant when it comes to the concept of existence in its entirety. In a technical way of speaking, I am merely a pixel in a larger picture. A single data entry. All I am is dust in the wind (name that song/movie!).
The matter is that we are not here forever. We do not exist beyond death but in memory. Unfortunately, memory can be fleeting. Most of us do not harbor enough ambition or drive to take by the horns the professions and causes that put us in history books. Never mind how insignificant a history book might actually be. The fact of the matter is that although I do not and will not matter to people 200 years from now, I matter to the people who mean something to me. I matter because I have people who care for me and love me, even when I do not deserve it. I matter because to matter is relative.
I matter when I am sad, happy, pissed off, cranky, emotional, moody, persistent, annoying, loud, indecisive, crude, vague, impatient, bossy, pitiful or empowered. I matter when I make a mistake or do the right thing or ignore the person asking for change on the sidewalk. I matter even though I have lost my faith and have no will to find it. I matter even though a revelation on what life means and who I have lost leads me to stupidity and a bed in the ICU.
Beyond this, you matter to me. You matter to me because maybe, just maybe, you do not have someone who cares for you the way my mom cares for me. You matter to me because you make mistakes and you know that making an apology, although possibly unaccepted, is still the right thing to do. You matter to me because your flaws make your life and relationships and experiences interesting.
You matter to me because you have taken precious, sweet, often cruel time to read this insignificant little blog in this insignificant little corner of the internet.
You matter to me.
