• The Sadness of Things in Common Reprise

    by  • July 31, 2013 • * Safe for Work *, To You • 0 Comments

    Yea, we have a lot in common. I won’t list them here since it’d blow the anonymity off my cathartic writing. That’s why I do this. I was left with nothing but introspection after you said I was “too angry.” Sure, you wanted to keep up communication, but, as I said before, my fragile ego–or now I respect myself too much to be thrown in the rejected boyfriend bin with all the others you keep around.

    I’m glad I was able to allow myself to be hurt again. Too bad I made the hurt happen. I like that I can have such an experience proving I can love even if it’s not returned. You may differ on that, but if I really look at it, with one or two exceptions, I had more willingness to face the challenges. More willingness to attend your activities, watch your movies, listen to your music, blah, blah, blah. For that, I’m glad that you wanted me out of your romantic life. I’m glad I had the realization that it would be ongoing pain if we kept up a platonic life.

    The funny thing is that the anger was partly–maybe even mostly–situational; only a dissatisfaction with my current monetary/job status. Perhaps you might’ve been perceptive enough to know this. But making a character assessment (and assassination) based on a situation is altogether shallow. I get to call you out on things now. I bit my tongue while your friends were rude to me. I find comfort when I look at all their other friends and realize I don’t want to be associated with that retinue. The truth of the matter is I’m angry because I am sad. Yes sad because of a lot of things, most of which are in the distant past.

    The upside is that after discovering and acknowledging this, I’m addressing it. So much internal work to do. The most difficult part of it is that I had to blow my relationship with you. At the same time, through our time together (though I may have forgotten from time to time), I never forgot my truth–that I’m a great guy with a lot to offer. So many assets that I know, though jilted, I’m better as result. Yes I know while my attitude is that I blew it with you, it’s indeed your loss. I did so many good and nice things for you I KNOW it with my soul rather than just in my head.

    You (and your friends) fortunately (though ill-mannered) reminded me what I had forgotten. I was reminded that when I’m fully conscious and awake I’m happy–relishing each day–and this was/is becoming more of my default rather than the spiritual laziness that drove you away. It new and weird to feel happy daily; maybe even uncomfortable, but I don’t stay in the shit just ’cause it’s warm.

    I’m fortunate that you showed me the door as I won’t be distracted by the social gatherings that I obviously didn’t fit into. I’m glad that now I can focus on my wonderfulness as a being, as a man with a cleared path to attract someone more in tune with understanding and patience– and won’t run at an uncomfortable situation or be outright rude (yes you’re guilty by association).

    I have a hunch you’ll perceive this as yet another criticism of my environment. I admit I tend to do it as a defense or coping mechanism, but when I’m just verbalizing emotion, or even articulating simply what is, it’s not anger. Just me trying to think my way out of pain. Like this little writing– it’s not a angry tirade, just the expression of the pain I created by losing you. Interpret how you wish. I wonder about the mind of the interpreter.

    You wanted me to walk away, now I’m driving; the image in the mirror of your back turned; walking away is getting smaller even faster. Every instance of writing one of these, every day that passes, allows me to retake the real estate I allowed you to claim in my heart and mind. I still had my soul through all of it. This is where I have always found solace–that truth of being good. Even the chest pain seems to be improving.

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