Analysis of My Relationship with Carl
I've just been going back over the posts I made when I was with Carl. They're not nearly as disgustingly cute as I thought they would be.
Reading them made me realize something.
I gave a whole lot of reasons for wanting to break up with him. Some of them were legitimate. Some of them were total crap. I even believed some of it.
But reading those posts...I know what the real reason was.
Because the world told me it was wrong.
Every post that mentions him somewhere in it I talk about how guilty I felt about being with him. I say things like "but it feels so right" and go on and on about my friends and my parents and all this imaginary disapproval that I was feeling. I was torn up inside about hiding him from Mom. I was scared to be seen with him in public even though we did cuddle in the movie theater. Having dinner with his parents creeped the hell out of me because it felt so normal and I was waiting for them to freak out and condemn me. I was scared to have him in the house for fear that Grandmother would walk in on us or that Gerald would come home from work early. I was scared to take him to parties because I was scared that my friends would be freaked out by seeing us together. I was scared to be at his house because I was waiting for his dad to beat the crap out of me instead of being perfectly reasonable about the situation (at least when I was around).
It's a wonder I didn't develop ulcers. And amazing that those were some of the most wonderful days of my life.
There is so much angst and fear and guilt in those posts. Even more that's not there, but is in the memories.
Gods, no wonder I broke up with him and couldn't even figure out why I was doing it.
At that point in my life I was nowhere near emotionally mature enough to deal with all that. 70% of the angst was just my own fears with no basis in reality, but it still ate away at me.
I broke up with the most awesome guy I ever dated because the world told me our relationship was wrong.
In the immortal words of my sleeping self freshman year of college, "FUCK YOU WORLD."
It's time for all that is left of that emotional baggage to go. It's counter productive to a happy, healthy Jesse.
I've rebelled against what the world thinks for three years. I've fought the world, ignored it, cursed it, blogged about how unfair it is... well I'm not doing that anymore. I'm just going to tell it to bugger off. It's your world. You live in it. I'm going to go over here and do my own thing. With men.
Reading them made me realize something.
I gave a whole lot of reasons for wanting to break up with him. Some of them were legitimate. Some of them were total crap. I even believed some of it.
But reading those posts...I know what the real reason was.
Because the world told me it was wrong.
Every post that mentions him somewhere in it I talk about how guilty I felt about being with him. I say things like "but it feels so right" and go on and on about my friends and my parents and all this imaginary disapproval that I was feeling. I was torn up inside about hiding him from Mom. I was scared to be seen with him in public even though we did cuddle in the movie theater. Having dinner with his parents creeped the hell out of me because it felt so normal and I was waiting for them to freak out and condemn me. I was scared to have him in the house for fear that Grandmother would walk in on us or that Gerald would come home from work early. I was scared to take him to parties because I was scared that my friends would be freaked out by seeing us together. I was scared to be at his house because I was waiting for his dad to beat the crap out of me instead of being perfectly reasonable about the situation (at least when I was around).
It's a wonder I didn't develop ulcers. And amazing that those were some of the most wonderful days of my life.
There is so much angst and fear and guilt in those posts. Even more that's not there, but is in the memories.
Gods, no wonder I broke up with him and couldn't even figure out why I was doing it.
At that point in my life I was nowhere near emotionally mature enough to deal with all that. 70% of the angst was just my own fears with no basis in reality, but it still ate away at me.
I broke up with the most awesome guy I ever dated because the world told me our relationship was wrong.
In the immortal words of my sleeping self freshman year of college, "FUCK YOU WORLD."
It's time for all that is left of that emotional baggage to go. It's counter productive to a happy, healthy Jesse.
I've rebelled against what the world thinks for three years. I've fought the world, ignored it, cursed it, blogged about how unfair it is... well I'm not doing that anymore. I'm just going to tell it to bugger off. It's your world. You live in it. I'm going to go over here and do my own thing. With men.