or oh, like a corkscrew
Michele and I have an interesting dynamic. She sometimes seems very concerned for me and is very reassuring, showing affection through smiles or voicemails or little pieces of art she has made me. She knows that I am the best person to turn to, to talk to, when things upset her. Even when I am upset, I always answer, I always help. I do this because I care about her, care about her being okay and feeling good about herself and having a friend who isn't selling her coke, buying coke from her, or doing it with her.
I'm always there to suggest dinner, to offer company and conversation and all kinds of attention and, if i'm feeling sweet, a deep tissue massage. I treat my guests well.
She's been a bit different lately as her habit has stepped up. It's not so much that she's different one on one, but it is almost as though in a group she's a different person. Each time I've been to her new place I've felt very uncomfortable. Last night I got tired of hearing that I'm wonderful and seeing that I'm not terribly compelling compared to a laundry list of idiotic distractions.
Emotional balance is crucial to any relationship, whether it's platonic, romantic, academic, what have you. Knowing that someone cares less about you than you do about them makes it difficult to sustain any relationship on any level. Wouldn't you be tired of it?
I sure was. So I stubbed out my smoke on the arm of her couch and left. Done with that one, I am, and I feel right miserable about it. I'll remember her, I think, long after she's forgotten me.
That's just fine with me. I did some good by her and some bad by her, and it seems to be that life usually stacks up that way.
I'm always there to suggest dinner, to offer company and conversation and all kinds of attention and, if i'm feeling sweet, a deep tissue massage. I treat my guests well.
She's been a bit different lately as her habit has stepped up. It's not so much that she's different one on one, but it is almost as though in a group she's a different person. Each time I've been to her new place I've felt very uncomfortable. Last night I got tired of hearing that I'm wonderful and seeing that I'm not terribly compelling compared to a laundry list of idiotic distractions.
Emotional balance is crucial to any relationship, whether it's platonic, romantic, academic, what have you. Knowing that someone cares less about you than you do about them makes it difficult to sustain any relationship on any level. Wouldn't you be tired of it?
I sure was. So I stubbed out my smoke on the arm of her couch and left. Done with that one, I am, and I feel right miserable about it. I'll remember her, I think, long after she's forgotten me.
That's just fine with me. I did some good by her and some bad by her, and it seems to be that life usually stacks up that way.