A Little Tired, A Little Sad
~Bass~
How Can I Heal - David Julyan - Memento
I have many angry things to say. Many cold, unmoved, clinical assessments to make.
I have clamped down on my estimations and feelings for a long time.
Something an ex of mine-- Amber-- said to me once really stuck with me. I wish I could remember it verbatim, but it was essentially something like "You can be honest, but you don't have to be such an asshole about it."
Years later, a similar quote-- this time from Katie-- "So casually cruel in the name of being honest."
Until recently, I thought that perhaps they were right. And in a way, they are. Their statements aren't completely lacking in validity. And for that time, I wondered why I always felt a "wrongness" in that philosophy.
You see, the missing piece of that puzzle is that I hadn't learned how to reconcile the two. Being honest enough to convey myself, but without being unduly (the functional word, here-- UNDULY) harsh.
I'm getting away from what I wanted to say here. But the point is, I don't think I'm as wrong as I've felt I was, any more.
I tried, for years, to accommodate Katies' feelings. To pull my punches, and mostly speak of positive things. To leave the tone of my criticisms neutral, at worst.
But shame and embarrassment and fear are prolific motivators.
And that's part of the problem.
It's difficult to know how to temper the most efficient means of communication into something less abrasive when the person with whom you are interacting is super-sensitive to it.
When someone claims shame, guilt and depreciated self-worth are the status-quo, it's very, very hard to find a middle ground between communicating your grievances, and trying to keep them from feeling bullied.
I am not a tyrant. I'm just a child living in a man's body, who has, through some fantastic stroke of luck, managed to reach a stage of emotional maturity that I can see beyond the typical motivations of people.
But when someone accuses me of being overly harsh.... these days, I listen.
It wasn't so long ago that, were someone to say that to me, my response would be to laugh it off. Maybe accuse them of being soft-skinned. Or claiming that I didn't mind being perceived as an asshole. (Well, to be honest, I still don't.)
But the point is, days ago, I would not have stopped to give that claim due consideration. Y'know?
If someone feels a certain way about you, one is responsible for taking as much responsibility as possible for them feeling that way, even if you disagree. Because somewhere, you are at least partially responsible for them feeling that way.
I do try, these days, to listen to the criticisms leveraged at me.
Not always successfully.
And even saying that.... maybe I lend myself too much credit.
It's just...
.... remember when you were keeping that open diary for her? And writing to her consistently? Trying to let her know how important she was to you? Going over the situations in your mind over and over and over. Playing them out in your head in scenario after scenario, trying to see where you came up short? What your shortcomings were?
Or even, what the flaws in the circumstances might have been?
All you did was pave the way for your own unhappiness.
You bound your own hands.
Without an efficient method of conveying your unhappiness-- the things which you found untenable-- you simply locked yourself into a trapshot.
I used to think that maybe we didn't try hard enough the first time. Maybe.... I didn't work hard enough to understand her BpD.
And 3-and-a-half books later, I'm more readily equipped with the knowledge of it.
What it didn't disarm me of, is my expectation of performance in other people.
I -did- expect her to clean up after her fucking cats. I -did- expect her to clean her room. I -did- expect her to form an exercise routine.
This is getting deeper into a topic I would rather have be a self-contained entry of it's own.
The main problem with the situation, was that she is entitled. She has an overly romanticized view of "the way things should be".
That involves doing as little as possible.
Ultimately, the thing that really makes me the most sad about this whole thing is that I feel as though I put the lion's share of the effort into Us.
I tried to be supportive.
To be communicative.
To be resilient.
To be patient.
To be understanding.
I offered her a life-loyalty that could maybe only compare to that of her mother. The loyalty of a Peach Grove Oath.
I can say, with utter confidence, that I am the singular most emotionally intelligent and evolved person she will ever meet.
And truly, to quote her, I am "irreplaceable".
And yet, despite that rather lofty claim, she chose a future of rose-tinted uncertainty. Of illegality. Of no emotional support.
I have grown tired of chasing after her for so long. I'm drained of motivation to bring her back from that dark, terrifying place that sometimes encapsulates her.
If she cannot appreciate me for the things that I offered, why, then, do I bother?
There are a lot of variables in this equation. And I hope to sort through as many of them as possible.
And yet, despite all of my grievances.... I sure miss her.
I miss you, Katie.
7:12 p.m. - 2013-07-09
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