Hiding
When there's too much pain or fear it is the human instinct to distance themselves from it. Human nature can be a bitch. Right now I'm not afraid. Actually, it's been a long time since I can remember being afraid. But pain...pain I know. Yes, I whine a lot; poor, pitiful me. Why the hell not? Maybe that's what's inside my head.
When I hurt, I hide. Human condition, and different people hide in different ways. I hide behind anger, I hide behind bitterness and viscious deeds, rage. I lash out, and typically do nothing but make things worse for myself. Or at least make it impossible to improve my circumstances; or if not improve, at least change. How do I want them to change, though? And what can I do to change them?
Side track, back on rail...
My pain fueled my anger and I struck out at the one I loved. Twice I let that happen. And twice I paid the price, losing what I loved. No, not twice. Thrice, three times a loser. Now two are gone forever, over me as easily as discarded jeans. On to a new pair, maybe a better fit. And these are a pair they're committed to, a woman to keep.
And the one...the one is where I am. The one I loved most, gave the most to. The one who hurt me the most, but that's always the story, isn't it? Now we sail on the same ship, watching the ones we loved find happiness in the arms of another. And why is that, I wonder. Why do the relationships fail for one reason or another for both of us, every time? Could it be that the only relationship for either of us was the one we both destroyed? The only one that could ever work because your first is your only, the one you compare everything else to and they all fall short. Now there will always be something, that one significant flaw in all our dealings with others, and the flaw itself doesn't matter, just that it's there. In one it will be the sex, in another the conversation, in a third the finances. But the real flaw is that it's not each other that we're with.
Maybe, though, it's just me. Maybe *I* am the fatal flaw. Maybe my gift is tainted, my love unpure.
So, maybe it's just me.
Again.
Laters
When I hurt, I hide. Human condition, and different people hide in different ways. I hide behind anger, I hide behind bitterness and viscious deeds, rage. I lash out, and typically do nothing but make things worse for myself. Or at least make it impossible to improve my circumstances; or if not improve, at least change. How do I want them to change, though? And what can I do to change them?
Side track, back on rail...
My pain fueled my anger and I struck out at the one I loved. Twice I let that happen. And twice I paid the price, losing what I loved. No, not twice. Thrice, three times a loser. Now two are gone forever, over me as easily as discarded jeans. On to a new pair, maybe a better fit. And these are a pair they're committed to, a woman to keep.
And the one...the one is where I am. The one I loved most, gave the most to. The one who hurt me the most, but that's always the story, isn't it? Now we sail on the same ship, watching the ones we loved find happiness in the arms of another. And why is that, I wonder. Why do the relationships fail for one reason or another for both of us, every time? Could it be that the only relationship for either of us was the one we both destroyed? The only one that could ever work because your first is your only, the one you compare everything else to and they all fall short. Now there will always be something, that one significant flaw in all our dealings with others, and the flaw itself doesn't matter, just that it's there. In one it will be the sex, in another the conversation, in a third the finances. But the real flaw is that it's not each other that we're with.
Maybe, though, it's just me. Maybe *I* am the fatal flaw. Maybe my gift is tainted, my love unpure.
So, maybe it's just me.
Again.
Laters
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