Tuesday, September 23, 2008

From 04*23*07

What is a friend? A single soul shared by two people.


Do not wish to be anything but what you are, and try to be that perfectly.

-St. Francis de Sales

Get a life in which you are not alone. Find people you love, and who love you. And remember that love is not leisure, it is work.

-Anna Quindlen

Starting is the hard part. Finding the words to describe so perfectly what I feel requires more patience than I have time for, more energy than I feel like using, but most importantly it requires more eloquence than you deserve. Everything you've told me is true--I just don't think I ever believed it until now.

And if I do think the world revolves around me, it sure as hell isn't your place to knock me down--not now, not ever. Every other time you've done it I've learned something about myself, some new facet of my personality that I don't like or some quirk I have that I never knew about til now.

But I do not deserve to be treated like shit just because you think I'm selfish. Every time I talk to you it becomes more and more apparent that you don't know me at all, you can't read me, and you sure as hell don't want to take the time to learn. You have no idea, my friend. None.

What makes it worse is that what you do know is this: I am having a really horrible time right now, and my mental state is fragile for hundreds of reasons. But if you want to continue to be you, continue to be an insensitive person, then you do that. The fact that you admit you are insensitive, that you don't know how to deal with people so well, and you don't try and work on that? That's all you buddy. You can't blame your parents this time. You can't blame your environment or your past--it's all YOU. If you know something to be wrong, and you don't try and fix it, that is a moral flaw that few people have the capacity to live with.

Go ahead, get mad. Tell me I'm blaming you and making it all about you. I know that's what you're thinking.

Maybe I do jump to too many conclusions. But I know that I have been trying to talk to you, to get your advice because I respect it, but you have been blowing me off. It's only natural for the pattern to occur. Nothing made today any different than any other time, except that now I know you don't care.

That's cool.

I'm overreacting. I know it. I'm saying it, out loud, SHOUTING IT, for everyone to hear. I over analyze and over think and I always conclude with the worst possible outcome. I put words in peoples mouths and thoughts in peoples heads that aren't there. I'm not sorry--it's saved me more times than I care to know to expect the worst, because then on the rare occasions it doesn't happen I get to be surprised.

I can only expend so much effort and not receive any in return before I totally cave.

Not there yet.

I just hate the fact that I crave your approval. I don't know why. If I knew why I would fix it. Maybe a little bit you remind me of my dad. A lot. But I can't change how he is and I sure can't change how you are. I can only change myself. And change is hard.

I need to learn to let go, to sit and let everything come at me and around me and not be totally absorbed and destroyed by it. I've destroyed and rebuilt myself so many times I don't recognize who I am anymore.

I'm an enabler. I allow the people around me to dictate my actions. I don't ever do what I want. I do what other people expect of me.

When people fit they fit. When people don't fit, you can't make them. That's a lesson I haven't yet learned. Because I don't know what my shape is. I don't know how to fit with someone else. I don't even fit myself. I may not be a whole piece. And that's what scares me. I don't know that I will ever be a whole piece. I'll always be a bunch of little pieces, moving around and molding as closely as possible to whatever piece decides to try and match up.

I'm not vain. It's a defense mechanism--get people to not think about how ugly and fat I am by making jokes about it. If you tell people something enough, they eventually start to believe it, right? I hate being the fat kid, the best friend, the "sister." I want someone to look at me and truly see me--see past the jokes, the laughter, the loudness, and see that I just want someone to look at me and say it's ok to be me, it's ok that I don't know who I am, someone who wants to help me find myself and find what I'm supposed to do and be. I've been utterly alone for so long that I don't know how to let people in--no one knows everything. Some people know some things, some people know other things, some things are unknown, but nobody can put it all together.

And not in a romantic sense. I want someone that I know will be there for me--my whole life, no matter what--like I am there for so many people. I want someone like me, full of possibility, squandering it, seeking nothing more than to live a life of ungreatness, doing what needs to be done and nothing more. Someone I can to Mississippi and squat with. Someone to go to Cali and swim with. Someone to go to Penna and just breathe with. I'm not describing you, don't be so vain.

I've tried so hard lately to be full of grace, to be calm and patient and kind. I want to be Charity, in and of itself, the definition to a T. To forgive without being asked, to forgive when it's unnecessary, to become a calm in the midst of this huge fucking storm.

I think it's funny how all these people ask you about it, and no one once has ever asked me. And you make such a big deal out of it. Who cares what other people think. I know what's going on and you know what's going on. What does anyone else matter.

Maybe you don't know what's going on. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I've made peace with myself for the most part. You know, you hear that your first just got remarried, and you want to cry a little bit. You find out someone who used to set the world by you found someone else. It hurts a little bit. That's just human nature, the ability to live and be hurt and move on. It's always there a little bit. It's still there a little bit. But that's not what's driving this.

I wish with all my heart that I felt differently. I miss when we were just friends and I didn't feel like you were second guessing everything I did. But what's happened has happened and I can't change what I used to feel and you can't change what you don't feel. And truly that's not what I want. I just want us to be us again.

Fighting with you makes me feel utterly defeated.

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