This week I got my dresser. It is the perfect dresser. It is the perfect size. The perfect stain. It is something that took about 18 years to figure out. It was delivered yesterday. Though I went to Stitch n' Bitch tonight, what I fantasized about was to go home and smile at my new dresser. You may ask, "What does this dresser represent?"
I'd like to tell you.
To me, it represents being able to get what I want. Not just in the Veruca Salt-way, but rather in the "this is something I'm willing to work hard for, be patient about and make sacrifices for" way.
When I was in the abyss, Michael used to ask me,
"What do you want?"
The question was a puzzle to me at the time. My most common answers were:
1. "Whatever you want."
2. "For everybody to be happy."
3. "I don't know."
4. "What do you mean?!"
This was even more puzzling for Michael. I feel like he always knows what he wants. I see him as someone for whom it's as easy to know what he wants as it is to take a deep breath. Natural, almost reflexive. Not for me.
When I didn't know what I wanted -- REALLY WANTED -- I tended to be a little impulsive (understatement). Maybe I wanted it. Maybe I didn't. Who knows? Who cared? It was there and perhaps I would never find what I really wanted -- so I'll take that. No matter what that was.
Perhaps I really wanted a hug. I didn't know that's what I wanted though. So I'll take a piece of bread.
Perhaps I really wanted a new job. But not having that much insight, I'll take something shiny and useless.
I have had to build those muscles. Muscles I didn't even know were there.
What do I want?
I've found other new muscles. These muscles have appeared out of nowhere apparently from digging up my clay-ridden backyard to make it suitable for planting herbs that I may one day put in my food. I did not know I had these muscles either but apparently getting out of bed and into the sun on a beautiful L.A. spring afternoon builds muscles. Who knew?
But look at what it gets you.