are you obligated?

i’ve been thinking a lot about obligations as of late. while it started before my trip to california, i can say i became totally conscious of it while in one of the many gift shops at disneyland. specifically, while i was looking at the watches.

about a thousand years ago, i dated this guy who wore a goofy watch. i mean, a watch with goofy on it. and it ran backward. whenever i’m confronted with disney watches, i seem to look for the goofy watch. it’s a habit i can’t quite explain, except for the fact that it was a really cool watch, and sometimes i feel like i could erase the jerk i kinda was to the guy by looking for goofy. but, while i was looking for this particular watch, moi was off dealing with one of the employees, in regards to some prints the birdman had bought for her, and which she had returned to the store to have framed. they were beautiful prints of cinderella, as i recall, not all cartoon-ish like one would think. they were these amazing oil paintings, and they were pretty cumbersome as we toted them onto the parking shuttle/ train thingy. i’m not saying i felt obligated to carry these pictures, nor am i really obligated to look for that goofy watch.

both things were done because i care about the person with which i associate these things. does that make sense? i care about moi, so obviously i would visit her for her birthday. and of course i would go to disneyland more than once, and naturally i would help her carry these prints. and, it stands to reason, i care still about the guy with the goofy watch. who, thanks to the power of the google, has found me after a thousand years, and thinks i’m funny. or at least, interesting enough to call on occasion. hello, mr roboto!

anyway.

so, obligation. maybe, if you come from that kind of family, your life is nothing but a series of obligations. you do things because you have to, and that’s just how it is. while i was raised that way in regards to some things, i try not to make people feel like chores i have to accomplish. i loathe feeling that way, and i’ll be damned if i purposely make someone feel like an item on a to-do list.

i get really upset if i miss a birthday, even if it’s an honest mistake. i feel bad if a friend has a monumental thing happening in their life, and i’m not there to help, or be a part of it in some way for them. does that make sense? i don’t have friends so i can have an impressive list of names in my phone book.

so, the goofy watches. they were awesome, and i nearly bought one. but if i were to buy a goofy watch, i’d stop looking at the watches. i’d stop looking for that one watch. and i don’t really wear a watch, anyway. i have quite a few, and i wear them for a while, then they sit in the jewelry box, running down. i might go looking for the goofy watch in a few months, and i’d be sad that it ran out of power. i’d get the battery replaced, and i’d wear it again for a week or two. only to remember i’m not a watch person, and back into the jewelry box it would go.

lather, rinse, repeat.

buying the watch turns a memory into an obligation, and i don’t want that. for anybody, when it gets right down to it. and i especially don’t want it for me.

the point i wanted to make with all this isn’t really coming out the way i wanted. so, i’ll say this instead. one of my aunts once told me you really only get five friends in life. you have a lot of people that are your friends, yes. we all probably know more than five people. but, you will only know five people in your entire lifetime that are true friends. the kind of people that would donate blood for you. that would give you a kidney. that would hold your hand when your life is crumbling around your ears. only five. when i think about the people in my phone book, i wonder if i’m one of their five. i wonder if they would cry on my shoulder. i wonder if i could cry on theirs.

i wonder if i mean anything to any of them. or if i’m an obligation to be dealt with from time to time.

tell your five that you love them. that’s my point, i guess. and never let them forget.

thanks for stopping by.