I realized that once you get to a certain point, there is no turning back. You decide what has to be done, and you do it. No one is going to catch you if you don't. There is no safety net, no second option. It was go, or stay for an indeterminate amount of time at an airport I had already seen enough of. I had no idea where I was, how I would get to where I wanted to go, who would be there when I arrived, and even if it was worth it. But not trying was the worse option. There was nothing for me if I didn't move, but if I did, well, there was a reward so worth at the end of the tunnel. Getting to the man I love.
As I sit in Birmingham, waiting for my flight (8 hours later) I rewatched an old favorite. The Last Kiss. It's always hard for me to watch, but I remembered why I love it so much. Four of the character are best guy friends, each with their own issue, love, fears, immaturity, crisis. The main character pretty much encompasses them all and paints a pretty damn good picture of what it's like to act like a child, get burned for it, then let that burning turn you into an adult. He stares down the barrel of his life and sees the end, fearing the trap he knows he is entering. The final stage. The final act, as he sees it. He sees his life as a end rather than a beginning, so he finds his own cowardly escape, them realizes, what he thought was trapping him, was what he wanted all along. Go figure.
At one point, an older, wiser, flawed but realistic character says to him "It's not about love, you asshole. Anyone can love. That's about you. That's about the way you feel. No one cares about that. What matters is what you do." It's a profound statement. Needlessly unexplained. But what follows it is what really matters. After that he says "You want to know what to do? How to get it back, how to get her back? That's simple. You do whatever it takes. You do that, you don't give up, and you can't fail." Now that, that is much more profound.
Doing whatever it takes may look so different for so many people. For some, it looks like not seeing your life as a trap, but as choices you make. Realizing that nothing can trap you but you, but that choices, choosing to love, to stay, to fight, to struggle through, isn't an end, it's a beginning. For others, it's realizing that allowing every bump in the road, every flight cancelled, every argument, rejection, heartache, isn't an excuse to give up. No one wins then, and no one is successful. Then it's just about staying safe, fearing what isn't in the comfort zone. If there is nothing worth the desperate fight, there is nothing worth living for.
Growing up is a hard thing to do. It's gritty. It's unpredictable, it's uncomfortable and unfamiliar. It's risky and ugly. The movies portrays it as a man showing his fight through sitting on a doorstep for four days outside his love's house, refusing to move until conversation can begin. It's a desperate attempt, not a last ditch, but a signal of immobility. That takes a sort of vulnerability, a sort of acceptance of risk, then a rejection of any other than what is set in front of him. His choice to love. It's no longer a trap, no longer an end, but a beginning. A choice. Blowing past the barriers takes a sort of responsibility for actions, reactions, and results that takes a character only seen in adulthood, not childhood.
There is no one to blame when you make a choice. No one but yourself when, or if you give up, or you are rejected. That's a hard pill to swallow. But whether it's on a lonely road in Alabama, or on a doorstep in the rain, it's the same. No one to break your fall, no one to rescue you, no one to save you. Just you, yourself and the decisions you make.
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