Bubble-World

Weaver: Am I really such a fuckup, Voice?

Voice: Since I'm not part of your daily life, I really can't make an opinion about that.

Weaver: But seriously. You know my mind. Am I really such a fuckup?

Voice: *cautiously* Before I answer, why don't you explain to me why you're asking.

Weaver: I just finished catching up on the last month of Becca's blog. Beginning with the entry right after the last dance. She talks about me. And some things that happened there. We talked, at the dance. I remember telling her she was disappointed in me, and her denying it. She admitted on her blog that she was. Oh, I knew she was. Don't get me wrong. I'm not stupid. But it really got me thinking. Somebody I trust very much recently told me not to tell Becca every detail of my life. Not because Becca's a bad person, or would betray me, or anything like that, but just because she wouldn't understand, and might fuck me up badly by doing what she perceives to be the 'right thing'.

Voice: But there was something in that entry that made you disagree?

Weaver: No no. In fact, it made me agree more. But it's still got me back to that ever-present question of that ever-present line. When has it been crossed? When do you go from making logical arguments to making excuses? And it made me look at myself, and wonder.

Voice: Wonder if you're that bad?

Weaver: I suppose. I mean, look at my school-life. I don't bring school stuff to or from school. Or at least, I rarely bring school stuff to and from school. I don't go to Chemistry almost ever. I like to tag. I like to smoke pot. I like to do shrooms. I wear funky clothing and call teachers by their first names. I firmly believe in premarital sex and firmly disagree with the government.

Voice: But...?

Weaver: But look on the flipside. I have (except for Chem) an over 85-average. I used to work two jobs over 20 hours a week, and I'm looking for a new job to replace the one I quit. I'm mostly self-sufficient and I volunteer for a ton of stuff. I've completed, or will have completed by June, all the required courses to graduate save one (two, counting Chem). I'm probably going to do summer school to finish Chem or Social 30. I've written a novel. I'm not a crackwhore or permafried, despite aforementioned drugs. I'm friends with several of my teachers. I like school. I'm a living, breathing, double standard.

Voice: Only if you work under the assumption that you have to be good or bad. There's a balance there, just like there's a balance in everything.

Weaver: I know many people would not agree. Becs, for instance.

Voice: Remember your own Truths. Everybody lives in their own world, remember? In hers, you're falling uncontrollably into a world she doesn't understand. In yours, you're drifting. To others, you are other things. No matter what happens, you can't live in someone else's world.

Weaver: Yes, I know. I think the part that hit me the most is that she feels she's lost all of her faith in me. And that she blames it partly on herself (although I'm not surprised... people are awfully self-centered about blame). Actually, I was wrong. That's not the part that hit me the most. The part that hit me the most is the rest of the entries. Her life. She well and truly does live in a different world. I thought that Inga and I had grown into different worlds, and it's true. But Becca? We don't just live on different worlds. We live in different dimensions.

Voice: One dimension isn't better than another.

Weaver: That's what I realized with Inga. It's like comparing Lord of the Rings to Harry Potter. They're both fantasy, but completely different genres of fantasy. There's no way to compare them, because it's like judging an apple by comparing it to an orange.

Voice: You're just a lean, mean, analogy machine tonight, arentcha?

Weaver: Shut up. My point is, while I've been judged and labeled and such, I usually have that knowledge that the person isn't in my world to consider. And Becca and I's bubbles used to be close enough that judging was kosher. But now... Jeez. Rangers? This are not my language. And it just blows my mind. Like I said. I knew we had floated away from each other... but I didn't realize we'd been blown clear into different oceans. And I don't know where I'm going with this, so... Tah, I suppose.

Voice: Still wondering if you're a fuckup?

Weaver: Nah. I realized that it doesn't matter one way or another. I'm following my path in life. Anything above and beyond that is my problem. And while it sucks that a good friend has apparently lost complete faith in me... It's not entirely my fault. And I have to accept that either we'll float back to mesh a bit, or we'll continue to drift away from each other.

Voice: To quote JKR, "Whatever will come, will come. And [you'll] just have to meet it when it does."

A slow gathering, thickening, of the mists. A slow nod and smile from the Weaver as they enclose her completely.

Lah.