I told myself today that if I have learned anything in thirty years of dealing with relationships it is that one day there will eventually come a happening that will spin you off your rails and decisively change you forever. It’s something that will shake your walls hard enough that every future decision you make, will pivot off of this one event. In most situations I have rallied through, it’s hard for me to believe that someone really understands the concept of loving until they have honestly ruined it themselves. Like how can I know how something works unless I tear it all apart and dissect it, to learn whats inside. It’s until you realize, and have this conversation with yourself – looking back, and saying out loud “what the fuck was I thinking?” and “what the fuck I have done?“. It’s really until you feel the ramifications and finality of your decisions spiderweb on, to digest that sense of losing a vital part of what had become of your life, I’m not so sure I trust so easily in hearing anyone say “I love you“. I’m not saying someone can’t ‘love’ someone at all. I’m saying that in time, the meaning of that word will change for them. It’s the person on the other end of that ‘love’, the receiving vessel, that I choose to challenge and warn.
Loving someone just doesn’t mean caring, understanding, and being able to bathe in a sense of well-being. It means being able to be kind, caring and understanding even when you don’t feel good. It’s un selfishness. It’s compassion and being able to feel grief in someone elses voice, it’s positively supporting the bonds when you know someone could fall apart. It’s being a mess and feeling deathly vulnerable, it’s to feel safe even when you are feeling ugly and destroyed. It’s you being there in their face even when maybe you “don’t understand”.
It’s hard, it’s all very tiring in my head. It’s like every day you are adding soft clay to a binding wire structure. Pieces fall off, some crumble and just wont stick. Some get twisted in overlapping fingerprints. Some never get smooth. Somedays you just have to chop off an entire fucking side because things are not shaping into what you want them to be. And that one piece of copper wire just keeps finding its way through, no matter how much medium you press against it. Days of piling shit on and grabbing clay everyday and pulling pieces off over and over again until one day you wake up and realize what? That you no longer have any more god damned clay to add-on when you need to just get by. Because one side of the relationship did what? They stopped. Because one side chose to no longer be there. Or maybe they walked off. Or didn’t answer the phone that day, or maybe they just woke up and something changed in them. Good or bad or whatever. When that clay is not there, all of that (your) support dissolves. Because you know for fucks sake every day needs you to be a part of that clay and what it holds together. If you want anything real, anything worth waking up to, anything just worth a second of your fucking time in the world – then you need that substance to be there.
Love or not, I just don’t bend like I use to – I know loss well enough. If you’ve lost it then ‘know why’. If you’ve never lost it then I say ‘prepare yourself’. And if you want to hold on to it – I say ‘make your choices smart’, smart like maybe that love that feels fantastic right now, might not be there tomorrow.
“I don’t want to hurt you” often translates into : “I don’t want to hurt you and then for you to find out about it”.