Friday, February 6, 2009


I'm alive.
And I'm healthy.

I've been talking a lot lately.
I've made some big plans.
I've learned some things.

You can't squeeze water from a stone.
You can't have expectations. You can't have people have expectations of you.
You can't make someone emotionally available, if they don't know how to be.
You can't feel emotionally safe with someone you don't belong with.
You can't change someone's past, and how they handle themselves now, based off of events that have happened in their past.
You cannot be the mother or fill the role of a parent for someone that wants nothing more to be back in the loving nurturing arms of someone too far away.
I can't change people. I can't make people a safe space for me. I should have ran at the first red flag. Back via instant messaging sessions, being told about a simple pleasure of inviting someone over, and how unhealthy the acts that followed were. About the desire to be treated poorly, to be abused, to be violated physically.
Resent for offering a safe space, and an alternative to that need to be mistreated.
Resent for the safe space never being returned.
We're all damaged.
Some people can't do anything for anyone else besides themselves.
Some people can't do anything for themselves, and everything for others.
I wanted to give someone a chance. That led to expectations. Expectations of emotionally open sharing. Of a healthy relationship. To eventual resentment of the lack of emotional safe space. Resentment at building bikes, driving moving vans, being threatened with my living space, painting apartments in virginia, at presenting myself as a positive person, only to get dragged into a negative outlook and constant shit talking. Resent at never being given emotional space when asked for it. Resent at myself responding poorly to the lack of agreement or safe space for myself.
Resent for expecting a safe emotional space from someone who can't communicate openly with anyone but her mother.
Resent for real depth being hidden behind formalities, goals, to do lists, noise.
Resent for everything that I had been giving, and trying to give, and not getting the one thing in return that I needed.
Resent for the control, power, and male issues that I constantly paid for.

Things were supposed to change. My frustration was slowly simmering down, but nothing was working fast enough to soothe the heartburn that had been growing for so long.

A relationship can't grow with two people who have such high expectations from each other.

A relationship can't grow when the people involved either want to go back in time and fight their mother, or go back in time, and be forever coddled by their mother.

A relationship can't grow when one person is actively trying to work through their issues, and the other person just talks, and avoids their issues.

A relationship can't grow with someone that only knows how to receive love as if they were a child.

A relationship can't grow with someone who's fed up with the dysfunctionalities of the other. On either side.

You can't dig your roots into a brick.

You can't expect too much.

You can't be expected of too much.

I'm worried about her. I'm worried about unhealthy practices. About unhealthy sexual practices. About hiding in books, in mothers' arms, in formalities, in self help books, in quotes, in ways to blame others', in ways to run from confronting the awful truth of why we are the way we are.

I'm so god damned worried about her. I don't want her to be the victim for the rest of her life. I don't want her to be a survivor for the rest of her life. I don't want those to be the only roles she knows how to play. I don't want her falling into lies, escapes, the emptiness of good intentions. I want her to realize that everything around her, she's a part of. In one way or another, she's contributed.

No relationship is one sided. No problems are just one persons' fault when there's two people involved.

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