Ever since we first “met”, it has felt like a part of you split itself off from you and possessed me, working on you through the agency of me as if it knew that hearing things from an outside source might be more convincing to you, that it might have a better chance of you listening to it than if it continued to talk to you through yourself and your own thoughts.
Much as I’d like to blame it on you, or something woo-woo, I know that this is just what happens when I allow myself to become attached to someone – I become like both parent and child to that person, the ego boundaries merging to the point where I don’t know where I end and they begin, so their problems become my problems, their agenda becomes my agenda until it comes to the time when I can detach myself from them.
It’s exhausting, frankly. Which is why I can count on one hand all the people I have allowed myself to get attached to in my adult life. Everyone else – though I may love them dearly, very much enjoy their company, be concerned for their welfare, find them interesting – I really can’t claim to give a fuck if I ever see or hear from them ever again.
Maybe you’ll be able to ascertain an underlying pathology to that. I don’t know what it is, I don’t know why it’s the case and I don’t really care. It’s just me, it’s the way I am and whether or not it is healthy or unhealthy is, like everything, a matter of perspective.
But the problem we have here is that I constantly feel like I am intruding on you, interfering in business that isn’t mine to interfere with, and yet I can’t stop myself from doing it because you’ve never told me not to, you’ve kind of encouraged it, and even if you don’t initially welcome some of the things I say, I know that normally, eventually, you see the truth in them and I know that there’s a chance that one day you’ll apply them to your life and free yourself from the prison you’ve trapped yourself in.
In the meantime I spend half my life stressing over whether I’ve offended you, why you don’t want to spend much time talking to me, what is so wrong with me that you don’t pay me attention unless I stand in front of you and demand it and even then… it’s not much of your time you give me. I’ll never be special to you like you are to me, and though I understand that I have never, at base level, been able to accept it and it is a constant frustration to me, a constant hurt.
It’s not that I think you SHOULD treat me as special, that I’m deserving of it and I’m upset at you for not doing so, it’s that I WANT you to and you don’t. I want you to want me in your life and instead you seem to take me for granted and barely seem to register me. If I don’t talk to you in a while you seem not to notice. Rather than missing me, I feel like you’re glad of the break.
Just like everyone else, more than anything I want to be wanted, need to be needed. I wish it wasn’t so, but it is. I wish I didn’t care so deeply for you and the other people I am attached to. I wish I cared only about myself. I wish I could free myself from my own prison and live my life for me. I’ve been working on it, and theoretically I know how, but I don’t know how to take that leap.