Broken

I think Paul’s heart is broken over this thesis thing, and every time I think about it or look at him I want to cry, although I try not to, because it doesn’t help, and its always weird to have someone be more dramatic in their grief than you are over your misfortune. But he’s not here right now, and I’m crying as I write this.

The outcome is hard to bear on so many different levels. The fact that deliberations lasted for six hours, and that at least one member of the faculty “fought really hard for him,” indicates how close he came, and also that there are faculty members who must have fought just a little bit harder against. That after they decided, they took the crew that he had assembled, put him on it, and assigned it, almost verbatim, to his friend, who is a bit of a golden child in the department. That the two people who won spots in his category are people whose films were improved specifically from his efforts and creative input. That he worked with such focus toward this goal that it has, at times, put our marriage at risk.

I do believe that things happen for a reason, and that good things, or at least the right things, come from things that might initially seem bad. I know that he’s a fighter, and he’ll pursue other avenues soon, that other things will seem as important. I know there are things to learn that if we can learn them will make our lives better. But right now everything just feels unfair, and karmic-ly wrong.