Posts tagged with "pain"

A Difference of Love

“Love does­n’t end, just because we don’t see each oth­er.”, she told him

“Doesn’t it?”, he asked.

“People go on lov­ing God, don’t they? All their lives. Without see­ing Him.”

“That’s not my kind of love.”

I real­ize that on days like this — when the wind is cut­ting through the seams of my jack­et, when my stom­ach is so cramped that it twitch­es, when I’m uncon­trol­lably nod­ding off to sleep on the bus, when my trans­fer expires before I can use it, when incom­pe­tence isn’t keep­ing my appoint­ments — that I can’t call you. It just would­n’t help.

You aban­doned me when I need­ed you the most. I’ll nev­er trust you with any­thing impor­tant again. Including me.

You may say you love me, but I don’t love you. Not any­more.

This is how I real­ize that love is defined dif­fer­ent­ly by dif­fer­ent peo­ple.

My love is (was) bound­less.

Yours is of con­ve­nience.

A Test Of Love

So I delet­ed your num­bers off my speed dial. I took down your pic­tures. It was an in-the-moment thing.

I’m calm now, see­ing things objec­tive­ly, yet still unde­cid­ed.

Part of me wants to believe we can still be friends. That we can still hang out with­out me depend­ing on you for any­thing. But I’m not like that, and I don’t stay friends with those on whom I can’t depend.

I put aside my issues for my friends, and I need­ed you to do the same for me.

I cried, not only because you weren’t there when I need­ed you, not only because you had a respon­si­bil­i­ty to my friends as well, but because I nev­er allow those who hurt me so much to be a part of my life. Our friend­ship may be lost, and this is what upsets me the most. Perhaps it hurts so much because you were so impor­tant to me. I don’t want to lose that, but I’ll nev­er for­get what you did and I’ll nev­er trust you again.

And if I can for­give you, you’ll know that I tru­ly love you.

The Cut-Off Defence

Through all this, I’ve come to real­ize that I cut peo­ple out of my life as a defence mech­a­nism.

When some­one hurts me, I dis­tance myself from them so they mean noth­ing to me.

And if some­one means noth­ing to me, they can’t hurt me.

Often it’s an easy choice — just one wrong word or action — but not all the time. Cutting off my mom was by no means a rash deci­sion; it took years of con­sid­er­a­tion and plen­ty of chances before she final­ly went too far.

What sur­pris­es me the most is that even though I now know that I have this defence mech­a­nism, I don’t see a prob­lem with it.

I’ve been hurt by enough peo­ple, and I don’t want to be hurt any more.

Crier

I’ve gained a cer­tain noto­ri­ety amongst some as being a crier, but today was the first time that I actu­al­ly had a break­down. The first time there was­n’t just a sin­gle thing that brought me to tears, but sev­er­al, which, by them­selves, would have been tol­er­a­ble. And even though I’ve long known and been an advo­cate of the prac­ti­cal aspects of lachry­mol­o­gy, today was the first time that I still felt like shit when I could­n’t cry any more.

This song in my head is telling me about how the stars keep shin­ing down, the world keeps turn­ing ’round, not to let these hard­ships bring me down because times like these will come around. I believe him, because I’ve been there. I’ve been to the point where I wished my inter­est in sui­cide was just a cry for atten­tion, and I’ve been to the point where it felt like noth­ing could bring me down.

All I know right now is that I’m going to get through this week, but it’s not going to be easy.

Patchwork Mindset: Part 1

I haven’t seen Pat in more than two months. We’re try­ing to sched­ule some­thing for March, and by that time it’ll be an entire quar­ter year since we’ve hung out. I’ve come a long way since I last saw him, in terms of mind­set, and he’s prob­a­bly the only one who total­ly under­stands how grave­ly impor­tant that is to me. It’s too bad that my oth­er close friends don’t com­plete­ly under­stand me, although it’s no fault of their own and I don’t hold it against them.

It takes pain to under­stand pain, and Pat is the one who’s had the most sim­i­lar expe­ri­ences. If there was one per­son in this world who has me fig­ured out, it’s him. It used to feel as though he would have to come to my lev­el to talk to me, to under­stand what I was going through, to give me guid­ance and sup­port.

Now it feels as if I’ve come to his lev­el, and I under­stand his atti­tude, moti­va­tions, and world­view much bet­ter as a result of this. He admit­ted that he always won­dered when I’d get there, and he’s curi­ous if he’ll notice a change the next time he sees me.

I see all the influ­ences that change me as adding more to my mind, anoth­er piece to the quilt.

Keeping every piece becomes as impor­tant as gain­ing more.