“Cut her loose,” he said.

Big boy season

“Ok, I know this is grade school, but I’m having an issue texting this beauty,” I said.

He shook his head, “Texting is so small.”

I was hoping he wouldn’t have sounded so dismissive.

“I deal with bigger issues,” he said. “Not how to text.”

“Ok,” I said patiently. I needed his advice. He was the wisest guy I knew. A true lover of women. Total understanding of them. Not one bit of resentment. No fear. Only awe and appreciation and honesty.

“It’s just, I know that I can help her, but she’s defensive,” I started to explain.

“Help her how?” he asked with curiosity.

“She’s…” I searched for the word, “…scared. She grew up rough. I think I can get her out of her shell.”

“You can’t change anyone,” he said easily. “Not really.”

He paused, “But if you’re going to try, then you’re going to have to be her therapist. And you can’t sleep with your patients, you know that.”

“I know I need to keep a physical distance,” I said. “I can’t continue chasing her for one nighters.”

He stared at me patiently, in his quiet, focused way. I continued:

“I see so much potential in her. She’s talented, creative, artistic, concerned about animals and the environment…But she parties…hard. ….smokes up throughout the day. And she’s so defensive of her vices. But she’s honest about them, so…”

When I trailed off, he had a small smile. Not condescending, but understanding of my struggle.

“Cut her loose,” he said gently.

I knew he was right

When something, or someone, becomes too much work, I’ve got to move on.

When I start debating how to text someone.
Or worrying how to get simple tasks done in a difficult work environment.
Or deciding how to act to accommodate another person, instead of simply being yourself and doing your own thing.

Then these things have become too restrictive. And a burden.

And it’s time to cut it loose.

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