I realized that I never wrote about this, after re-reading the entry I wrote last Friday. In fact, I had been thinking about this subject for the past week, the past month, the past half year. Yet, I had never come to a conclusion, had never been firm on how I felt, until considering attendance at Aaron’s new years party (with a little hand from talking Trolley through some stuff, along with coming to terms with my own issues).

My intolerance has always been an issue in the past. An issue for improvement, that is, and I’ll be the first to admit it, albeit with a helpful reminder from John. I’ve always known how intolerant I am, although I never paid much attention to the fact because I consciously never let it get as far as being unable to socialize with people (never let it get in the way of everyday life, to the point of neurosis). There are some instances where I’ve actually been proud of how intolerant I am, because it makes me feel stronger, more respectful about the company I actually do choose to spend my time with. I want all my friends to know how much I generally hate people, and that they’re AWESOME enough to meet even my high standards. Hell, I even almost decided not to associate with John at one point, but realized that I was making a huge mistake, clouded by my own problems at the time.

I digress. I’ve become less afraid of my intolerance. A long time ago I realized that other people have every right to be themselves, and I’m probably the last person that they should be changing for. Hence the quest for my own self-improvement. However, I’ve only recently realized that I have just as much right to be me. That means every right to be intolerant. As intolerant as I want to fucking be.

The issue can be extendend to relationships in general, dating or otherwise. If two people can’t come to a reasonable agreeance on something, then sometimes all that can be done is recognizing it and accepting it. If these differences can’t be lived with, then the only thing left to do is part ways on amicable terms. One person has just as much right to be themselves as the other.

And if it just so happens that I find myself in unpleasant company, I’ll be the first to bow out. I’d rather spend quality time with the people I like, than share them with people I don’t, and the last thing I want to do is force the people I care about to make a decision between me and someone else. So I make the decision for myself. No one is at fault. Some people just don’t mix. As long as it never gets to the point of harming the relationships I want to have, there’s no problem. If this means that I may occasionally have to be in the company of people who make me uncomfortable, for important events or whatnot, then so be it. My friends are worth the unpleasantness, and I know that they understand me enough to accept my intolerance.

The issue becomes a non-issue.