well, well, well
been a while, yes.
in a lot of ways, i am fine. my previous post was a smidgen problem compared to what the fates have for me now. though to some, it shouldn't even be considered a problem, but to me it is. it defines me. it made me. how can that not be a big deal? not unless said folks think a life like mine can easily be discarded. it's not new news. when you've felt something strongly as a kid and that feeling prevailed even after 2 decades of being a living, breathing, thinking life form in this planet, it is something.
despite seeing shrinks here and there over the course of a decade, though i have tried to keep up with the third (or fourth?) one now, i can't. i essentially know how the drill goes and i get better results talking to someone far more familiar yet have a more objective view of things than a stranger trying to coddle your feelings to tell you something you already know decades before.
it has taken me decades (word of the day, decade!) to let someone understand my life because it's not something i thought was worth sharing or living (and no, i can't suddenly just up and tell it).
last year when i knew the seams were unraveling, the selves inside fought the battle i couldn't. they rallied bigly. and even after prostrating myself with them freaking out that i was trying to undo what they have done, when redemption and second chances were not meant for me, i was sane again. there's no nice way to break up. there's no way to appease feelings crushed and there is no way to undo a damage like that. it's impossible not to leave clean. ultimately, ties must be broken. i was waiting for that last thread to be cut, since said person's cut most of it already. waiting sucked. so i did it.
i acknowledge the breakdown of communication. i made a lot of mistakes, really. and i broke it off. and you must be relieved. you said so, too. in my head, there's a scenario of playing the antagonist in this story. i most likely will, with your versions of it. and i don't mind. in the end, i was not the person to be with you. there was really no halfway, you see. your road or the highroad. and i actually did my best to stay your path. then they made a list. a list i could no longer dispute. i often wonder if you are who you say you are. if you are what you appear to be. because you have neon lights flashing at the top of your head that read RUNNING AWAY BECAUSE I AM RIGHT. because you know better (presumably). because you are smarter than them (according to papers). because you deserve better (and you do, you know). and it doesn't matter who along the way gets hurt. you don't look back anyway.
it was not someone else. it was you. and a cycle of not being one's self if we continue further. i remember an argument we had, i was on my way home fro the mall that time. it was a long, mentally and exhaustingly long call and nothing came about that, except your complaints of how i was not more like this and that and you wanted more. i remember how we had a conversation of your exes and that i said if we talk about them now, we won't discuss them ever in the future and you agreed. and broke it. or the many conversations of me not spending more time with you. to put things bluntly, that i was not acting the way you want me to. i have my misgivings and it sucks only a little that i cannot remember much of them. i do remember forgetting stuff. i do remember my lack of awareness on situations. why i was pushing to meet another day after the event we both attended to was to cool off and find some sense and have a decent conversation with someone to help me understand what i should be doing after reading a letter of being compared to exes and how i should understand you and where you were coming from. a time when i said we were to converse, you wrote a letter. anyone on the receiving end of something like that would look like an idiot trying to explain one's self and sound like a jerk making excuses for each point in your narrative. and i remember they were livid as we read it.
we both know something's wrong with me. while i never spoke about it in detail, the only time you mentioned it was as if to spite me; that you put up with my shit and so and so. it's tiring to have you live in my head.
and i take back what i said. there is no regret.
in a lot of ways, i am fine. my previous post was a smidgen problem compared to what the fates have for me now. though to some, it shouldn't even be considered a problem, but to me it is. it defines me. it made me. how can that not be a big deal? not unless said folks think a life like mine can easily be discarded. it's not new news. when you've felt something strongly as a kid and that feeling prevailed even after 2 decades of being a living, breathing, thinking life form in this planet, it is something.
despite seeing shrinks here and there over the course of a decade, though i have tried to keep up with the third (or fourth?) one now, i can't. i essentially know how the drill goes and i get better results talking to someone far more familiar yet have a more objective view of things than a stranger trying to coddle your feelings to tell you something you already know decades before.
it has taken me decades (word of the day, decade!) to let someone understand my life because it's not something i thought was worth sharing or living (and no, i can't suddenly just up and tell it).
last year when i knew the seams were unraveling, the selves inside fought the battle i couldn't. they rallied bigly. and even after prostrating myself with them freaking out that i was trying to undo what they have done, when redemption and second chances were not meant for me, i was sane again. there's no nice way to break up. there's no way to appease feelings crushed and there is no way to undo a damage like that. it's impossible not to leave clean. ultimately, ties must be broken. i was waiting for that last thread to be cut, since said person's cut most of it already. waiting sucked. so i did it.
i acknowledge the breakdown of communication. i made a lot of mistakes, really. and i broke it off. and you must be relieved. you said so, too. in my head, there's a scenario of playing the antagonist in this story. i most likely will, with your versions of it. and i don't mind. in the end, i was not the person to be with you. there was really no halfway, you see. your road or the highroad. and i actually did my best to stay your path. then they made a list. a list i could no longer dispute. i often wonder if you are who you say you are. if you are what you appear to be. because you have neon lights flashing at the top of your head that read RUNNING AWAY BECAUSE I AM RIGHT. because you know better (presumably). because you are smarter than them (according to papers). because you deserve better (and you do, you know). and it doesn't matter who along the way gets hurt. you don't look back anyway.
it was not someone else. it was you. and a cycle of not being one's self if we continue further. i remember an argument we had, i was on my way home fro the mall that time. it was a long, mentally and exhaustingly long call and nothing came about that, except your complaints of how i was not more like this and that and you wanted more. i remember how we had a conversation of your exes and that i said if we talk about them now, we won't discuss them ever in the future and you agreed. and broke it. or the many conversations of me not spending more time with you. to put things bluntly, that i was not acting the way you want me to. i have my misgivings and it sucks only a little that i cannot remember much of them. i do remember forgetting stuff. i do remember my lack of awareness on situations. why i was pushing to meet another day after the event we both attended to was to cool off and find some sense and have a decent conversation with someone to help me understand what i should be doing after reading a letter of being compared to exes and how i should understand you and where you were coming from. a time when i said we were to converse, you wrote a letter. anyone on the receiving end of something like that would look like an idiot trying to explain one's self and sound like a jerk making excuses for each point in your narrative. and i remember they were livid as we read it.
we both know something's wrong with me. while i never spoke about it in detail, the only time you mentioned it was as if to spite me; that you put up with my shit and so and so. it's tiring to have you live in my head.
and i take back what i said. there is no regret.