Butterfly dress

Things that we haven’t done are the most splendid. The conversations that never took place, the gestures, withdrawn at the last moment, the songs we never sang, the books never written, the letters never sent. The words we never uttered. The dresses we never wore, hanging in the closet, waiting for the once-in-a-lifetime occasion.

All those are the greatest things on earth. They start with “If only I had…” followed by a past participle. Here begins a journey to perfection. But there are two main sorts: a moaning and a dreamy variant. It makes a huge difference which one you adhere to.

In a moaning variant you believe that it was possible and even highly recommendable to do, say, sing, write or wear the things that, by some awful twist of fate, lack of courage or insight, you finally did not attempt. In the long run it makes you feel useless, flawed, guilty, incompetent or unfortunate. One day you just give up, and stop believing in the possibility of getting there: meeting that person, having that conversation, singing that song, getting into that size…

 The dreamy variant assumes that all those things be better left in the realm of potentiality. It doesn’t mean giving up however – it only perpetually postpones the moment supreme. As a consequence, you’re always hanging there with your paw above the jar of honey, but never dropping it into the liquid (and better so, as this honey, continually postponed, must be way past its “best before” date). If you’re a proponent of the dreamy variant, you live in a state of constant anticipation of the greatest moments of all.

I should have worn my butterfly-print dress that evening… there was a gentle breeze on the coast…they would have taken off from the fabric, fly away and never come back… I’d watch them disappear in the dunes. I’d be left with a plain white dress instead, unfinished, holding a promise of perfection.

My best blog entry will be blank.