Philosophies on Intimacy
Every time Jim and I are alone, it turns into "grill Jenna for advice" time.
I'm not even sure why he does this. I am not filled with wisdom, I'm hardly a fount of knowledge, and from what I can gather he thinks that most of what I tell him is absolute bullshit. For the most part, it is. I can tell him what's worked for me, I can guide him with questions, I can overload him with my personal philosophy until I'm blue in the face. It means nothing. It won't impact him, or change the course of his thoughts, or even help him to feel any better about his situation. What works for me will not necessarily work for anyone else in this world. I tell him this every time, and assure him that what I think doesn't matter at all. Nothing really matters, in that vein. Yet he keeps coming back around to it, and we end up talking for hours about how fucked he thinks he is.
The interesting thing is, his situation now is so very similar to what my own was, just a few years ago. Talking with him is, in a way, cathartic. It helps me to sort through the thoughts and feelings that are still lingering from my last relationship. He's a mess now, I was a mess then... But it doesn't feel painful anymore, and that's the hope I keep trying to ply him with.
Again, it's not as if any of this matters. I don't think he even takes it to heart. However, if the only purpose these conversations serve is self-closure, I'm pretty okay with that. It just...
It frustrates me to see my friends unhappy, even if they don't want to be happy at all.
I'm not even sure why he does this. I am not filled with wisdom, I'm hardly a fount of knowledge, and from what I can gather he thinks that most of what I tell him is absolute bullshit. For the most part, it is. I can tell him what's worked for me, I can guide him with questions, I can overload him with my personal philosophy until I'm blue in the face. It means nothing. It won't impact him, or change the course of his thoughts, or even help him to feel any better about his situation. What works for me will not necessarily work for anyone else in this world. I tell him this every time, and assure him that what I think doesn't matter at all. Nothing really matters, in that vein. Yet he keeps coming back around to it, and we end up talking for hours about how fucked he thinks he is.
The interesting thing is, his situation now is so very similar to what my own was, just a few years ago. Talking with him is, in a way, cathartic. It helps me to sort through the thoughts and feelings that are still lingering from my last relationship. He's a mess now, I was a mess then... But it doesn't feel painful anymore, and that's the hope I keep trying to ply him with.
Again, it's not as if any of this matters. I don't think he even takes it to heart. However, if the only purpose these conversations serve is self-closure, I'm pretty okay with that. It just...
It frustrates me to see my friends unhappy, even if they don't want to be happy at all.