Resignation
I live my life comparatively. It used to be that I lived competitively. Once you recognize you're not competing on the same level it becomes comparative.
Neither way is healthy, but at least I had some pride before, I guess?
I'm out of my latest depression but I find myself in a world of listless confusion.
It's constant, but not agonizing. My existence is a dull migraine. I'm wearing my hair too tight.
The problem is that I don't know what I want. I've said this before- but really the problem is that I don't know what I want within the realm of what I can get. Is it enough to be two people, who were always afraid of being alone, relieving that loneliness a little? Comparatively, I didn't get to play house. I didn't get the same kind of manufactured romance that borders on ridiculous because of how close it is to the type of manufactured romance you'd see on TV. I didn't get any grand illusions- just a thin screen of reassurances hiding an idea I was pretty sure was fact.
The days we don't talk have gotten easier. The first few were hard. It's easier still now that I know he's doing the things we did together without me. Now that I know it's okay to do the same on a larger scale than I already was. Most of the things were mine, anyway. Sooner or later they'll return to being just a thing I did in the presence of another rather than a thing that I associate with the relationship. Surely, almost all things can become that. If I want them to.
I suppose on the opposite end of no illusions I at least got to be myself. Things might have been better if I negotiated or compromised more often...but maybe they wouldn't have. It's becoming obstructive to devote so much thought to the past. Comparatively. It's becoming destructive to devote so much thought to a present and future comparatively. I am not the girl I want to be. I don't know who she is. Someone kinder, more engaged, with more friends? Someone who settles? Someone more willing to meet in the middle? Is everything always a tally? Should I be keeping scorecards to track all the times we have been there for each other? All the bare minimum indulgences we grant each other to remain friends? Am I just becoming jaded? Aware that things are irreparably broken. There are chasms too large to get around. There is nothing I can want because there is nothing I can get. We'll never speak a language close enough to surmount our barriers. My world isn't even that magical, although it seems charmed because I always manage to land on my feet. I always find some help. Someone who believes in me, genuinely. Not at all in the way I throw the phrase around.
Of course, it is meaningful to be a person someone makes time for.
Are love and caring the same thing?
I think they are, but love includes a desperate longing that caring can get away without. Love makes wants feel like needs, and caring is easier to walk away from unscathed.
I think the truth is I have always been cared for.
I want something more, but I don't know who to ask.
Neither way is healthy, but at least I had some pride before, I guess?
I'm out of my latest depression but I find myself in a world of listless confusion.
It's constant, but not agonizing. My existence is a dull migraine. I'm wearing my hair too tight.
The problem is that I don't know what I want. I've said this before- but really the problem is that I don't know what I want within the realm of what I can get. Is it enough to be two people, who were always afraid of being alone, relieving that loneliness a little? Comparatively, I didn't get to play house. I didn't get the same kind of manufactured romance that borders on ridiculous because of how close it is to the type of manufactured romance you'd see on TV. I didn't get any grand illusions- just a thin screen of reassurances hiding an idea I was pretty sure was fact.
The days we don't talk have gotten easier. The first few were hard. It's easier still now that I know he's doing the things we did together without me. Now that I know it's okay to do the same on a larger scale than I already was. Most of the things were mine, anyway. Sooner or later they'll return to being just a thing I did in the presence of another rather than a thing that I associate with the relationship. Surely, almost all things can become that. If I want them to.
I suppose on the opposite end of no illusions I at least got to be myself. Things might have been better if I negotiated or compromised more often...but maybe they wouldn't have. It's becoming obstructive to devote so much thought to the past. Comparatively. It's becoming destructive to devote so much thought to a present and future comparatively. I am not the girl I want to be. I don't know who she is. Someone kinder, more engaged, with more friends? Someone who settles? Someone more willing to meet in the middle? Is everything always a tally? Should I be keeping scorecards to track all the times we have been there for each other? All the bare minimum indulgences we grant each other to remain friends? Am I just becoming jaded? Aware that things are irreparably broken. There are chasms too large to get around. There is nothing I can want because there is nothing I can get. We'll never speak a language close enough to surmount our barriers. My world isn't even that magical, although it seems charmed because I always manage to land on my feet. I always find some help. Someone who believes in me, genuinely. Not at all in the way I throw the phrase around.
Of course, it is meaningful to be a person someone makes time for.
Are love and caring the same thing?
I think they are, but love includes a desperate longing that caring can get away without. Love makes wants feel like needs, and caring is easier to walk away from unscathed.
I think the truth is I have always been cared for.
I want something more, but I don't know who to ask.
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