Missed By An Inch

Rulers…

By Snarky LisaPublished 6 months ago • 3 min read

https://unsplash.com/photos/gray-and-yellow-measures-WahfNoqbYnM

Ever notice the things that come so close, yet seemingly end up so far away? The dreams, desires, and potential futures which pass by — only to then promptly disappear — not to mention more mundane things as well?

If any of the above apply: welcome to the world of lost precision. These are the circumstances that come together almost perfectly, only to conveniently fall apart at the last minute. They’re occurrences and objects nearly present for taking — and then snatched away by Lord-knows-what when those that want them try to get them.

It’s not a pleasant experience to be robbed — even ostensibly. The feeling of that want of what you can’t have just about to end when suddenly, the ending ends up being thrown thousands of miles away. Trust me; I’ve been through it before.

The Cutoff

Multiple times, I’ve gotten close to people with seemingly decent backgrounds. I’ve seen them through their highs and lows, their bests and worsts. Eventually, though, those worsts became so damning that I couldn’t stick around with them any longer. As such, I left.

I’ve gotten pretty used to dealing with these sorts of people at this point. Cut them off. Warn others if needed. Grieve for a bit, but then move on with my life and occupy myself more. It’s only normal for anyone who’s lived long enough to hang around large circles of people at least semi-frequently and pick up some friends from there. There was one, though, that was harder.

In the depths of my cynicism during one period in my life, I met a guy who I knew through a bunch of social gatherings we both hung out at. He was funny and seemed kind. It didn’t take long before we were friends. We talked frequently, traded laughs, and vented to each other. He was on the way to being one of my closest friends.

Unfortunately, though, he was also guilty of some of the most deplorable of crimes. I hoped that there was maybe, perhaps, some explanation that could soften the blow to an extent. There wasn’t. I was left with no good choice but to leave him.

And just like that, a boon of support and links was gone.

The Other Side

Months later, I would end up writing something to publish in an online space I was in. It was longer than this article, but not the length of even a full on novella — let alone novel. I drafted it, edited it for grammar, and then hit send once I was done.

The piece didn’t get much engagement, to say the least. Comments were few, as were emoted reactions. Nonetheless, I did get one notable reactor. They were responsible for the vast majority of the piece’s engagement.

I thought about contacting that person to express my appreciation. They were basically the only one nice enough to give my post a strong response.

Also, as it turned out, they were a bigshot in certain other Internet spheres which might have proven useful to me. However, these very same factors were also double edged swords due to their intensity. They risked turning on me just as easily as they could support me if I had the wrong opinion on a subject in their eyes.

Ultimately, I didn’t contact the reactor. Eventually, they quietly disengaged from their reactions to my piece.

Do I regret not contacting the reactor when the window of opportunity to do so really opened up? Maybe. They did kind of help me out, after all. On the other hand, though, I wouldn’t want to compromise my own values for five seconds of an ego boost.

Who knows?

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Any other thoughts on this? Let me know in the comments!