"I love you, but..."
I have been saying this, you have been saying this. And right now, I don't think there exists a combination of four words that I hate more.
I'm familiar with depression. I'm familiar with that sense of hopelessness and futility that engulfs you when nothing seems to go right. I'm familiar with the fear of being alone, of not being understood, of not doing enough, of not meeting expectations, of feeling undeserving of happiness. I'm familiar with the anger and rage. I should, I have been living with all these for years now.
So when you tell me of all these, you're introducing me to old friends. Except that they somehow seem unfamiliar, because I think we both know that the underlying reasons for some of the choices you've been making are far more superficial, flimsier, less worthy of the tragic hero you want to be.
We haven't talked about what we're doing after this. But we both are aware that we're on the brink of choosing one of two paths. And it doesn't matter which one we'll take - things couldn't go on as before, things HAVE changed and WILL have to change.
I spend my life trying to meet everybody's standards including, and this may be the hardest for me to meet, my own. I know I can't be perfect -nobody knows my flaws better than I do- but I try to be the best daughter, the best sister, the best friend, the best girlfriend I can be. I fail most of the time, but there's always this drive to make everybody happy. I do feel overwhelmed by the expectations, we have that in common. But the difference is when I break down and feel like giving up, I make sure not to let it affect anybody but me. Oh, I would complain, I would cry, I would blog about it sometimes - but I always take it back right after. I cannot stand seeing my own weakness.
Perhaps that is why I'm partly to blame for all of this. Because I want to be everything and because I can't stand the thought of failing anybody, I think everybody's gotten used to the idea that no matter what life hurls my way, I always land on my feet no matter what - "It's ok, she's the strong one."
I have given this everything I've got. I have done all that I could. Strange isn't it? While you have admitted to being taken in by a single smile and have your world rocked by a compliment, you don't seem to notice all I that I do. I'm still the unsupportive, stoic, inadequate girlfriend. Where is my star sticker? Where is my pat on the back? Where is my "Thanks, you're the best."? Has anybody taken the time to see beyond the "funny (if somewhat ridden with angst) entries" (I also found it funny that somebody I've met online and who doesn't even know my name was the only one who picked up on the underlying sadness, even if she too dismissed it as slight.)? While I'm busy being the reliable king's man putting back Humpty Dumpty together again each time he lets himself fall from that wall, has anybody ever noticed that I could barely hold myself together? When can I stop proving how much love I could give? I know the name confuses some people, but am I really supposed to be the one with balls?
Imperfections and flaws, I could love. Mistakes, I could try to forgive (Oh, it's hard and I'm not alway successful, but the want to forgive IS there and I do work on it.). And I DO understand about not wanting to live with regrets and what-ifs. I understand, most of all, that dislike of the notion that in time, you'll grow to resent somebody for something that you felt you had to do for her. So I hope you understand why I can't give you what you seem to be asking of me. I love you, but what you're asking me to accept is beyond me.
They say it's probably not the best idea to let out your thoughts when you're emotional. The risk of saying things you don't mean and might regret later is high. But it's also true that sometimes, one is most honest when he's consumed by whatever he's feeling at that time. I wouldn't be surprised if I wake up tomorrow wishing I never said all of these. But if I don't let go of some of this love (Because heaven help me I still do), this hurt, this sadness, this anger, and this sense of loss and regret so complete that it would take a miracle for me to reclaim all that I've lost this time, I might choke on them.
I know that this will make some of you gloat and full of i-told-you-so's. Those who are so used to seeing me polite and oh-so-contained might be surprised. Some might actually even find this funny. And I know that I'm inviting disappointment and dismay (I must admit this pains me as I have grown to love and respect these people.). This, I think, will add to that anger YOU have been feeling, make you believe that I deserve everything, and lead you to believe that your theory about why people keep blogs is right. But as much as I'd like to apologize, I wouldn't. Just this once, I think I'm entitled to use my most-hated excuse of them all, the most self-serving of all reasons, a combination of four words which, I am correcting myself here and taking back what I said earlier, I hate as much as the first one I've used here, the same one you've repeatedly used - I am only human.
Because despite this belief that I'm this phoenix-like creature (Albeit uglier and less magnificent - it would have made a small difference if I had been worthier and more exquisite in your eyes, wouldn't it?) that can remain unscathed by anything and emerge from it all exactly as how it was like in the beginning, I am, after all, merely human.
I'm familiar with depression. I'm familiar with that sense of hopelessness and futility that engulfs you when nothing seems to go right. I'm familiar with the fear of being alone, of not being understood, of not doing enough, of not meeting expectations, of feeling undeserving of happiness. I'm familiar with the anger and rage. I should, I have been living with all these for years now.
So when you tell me of all these, you're introducing me to old friends. Except that they somehow seem unfamiliar, because I think we both know that the underlying reasons for some of the choices you've been making are far more superficial, flimsier, less worthy of the tragic hero you want to be.
We haven't talked about what we're doing after this. But we both are aware that we're on the brink of choosing one of two paths. And it doesn't matter which one we'll take - things couldn't go on as before, things HAVE changed and WILL have to change.
I spend my life trying to meet everybody's standards including, and this may be the hardest for me to meet, my own. I know I can't be perfect -nobody knows my flaws better than I do- but I try to be the best daughter, the best sister, the best friend, the best girlfriend I can be. I fail most of the time, but there's always this drive to make everybody happy. I do feel overwhelmed by the expectations, we have that in common. But the difference is when I break down and feel like giving up, I make sure not to let it affect anybody but me. Oh, I would complain, I would cry, I would blog about it sometimes - but I always take it back right after. I cannot stand seeing my own weakness.
Perhaps that is why I'm partly to blame for all of this. Because I want to be everything and because I can't stand the thought of failing anybody, I think everybody's gotten used to the idea that no matter what life hurls my way, I always land on my feet no matter what - "It's ok, she's the strong one."
I have given this everything I've got. I have done all that I could. Strange isn't it? While you have admitted to being taken in by a single smile and have your world rocked by a compliment, you don't seem to notice all I that I do. I'm still the unsupportive, stoic, inadequate girlfriend. Where is my star sticker? Where is my pat on the back? Where is my "Thanks, you're the best."? Has anybody taken the time to see beyond the "funny (if somewhat ridden with angst) entries" (I also found it funny that somebody I've met online and who doesn't even know my name was the only one who picked up on the underlying sadness, even if she too dismissed it as slight.)? While I'm busy being the reliable king's man putting back Humpty Dumpty together again each time he lets himself fall from that wall, has anybody ever noticed that I could barely hold myself together? When can I stop proving how much love I could give? I know the name confuses some people, but am I really supposed to be the one with balls?
Imperfections and flaws, I could love. Mistakes, I could try to forgive (Oh, it's hard and I'm not alway successful, but the want to forgive IS there and I do work on it.). And I DO understand about not wanting to live with regrets and what-ifs. I understand, most of all, that dislike of the notion that in time, you'll grow to resent somebody for something that you felt you had to do for her. So I hope you understand why I can't give you what you seem to be asking of me. I love you, but what you're asking me to accept is beyond me.
They say it's probably not the best idea to let out your thoughts when you're emotional. The risk of saying things you don't mean and might regret later is high. But it's also true that sometimes, one is most honest when he's consumed by whatever he's feeling at that time. I wouldn't be surprised if I wake up tomorrow wishing I never said all of these. But if I don't let go of some of this love (Because heaven help me I still do), this hurt, this sadness, this anger, and this sense of loss and regret so complete that it would take a miracle for me to reclaim all that I've lost this time, I might choke on them.
I know that this will make some of you gloat and full of i-told-you-so's. Those who are so used to seeing me polite and oh-so-contained might be surprised. Some might actually even find this funny. And I know that I'm inviting disappointment and dismay (I must admit this pains me as I have grown to love and respect these people.). This, I think, will add to that anger YOU have been feeling, make you believe that I deserve everything, and lead you to believe that your theory about why people keep blogs is right. But as much as I'd like to apologize, I wouldn't. Just this once, I think I'm entitled to use my most-hated excuse of them all, the most self-serving of all reasons, a combination of four words which, I am correcting myself here and taking back what I said earlier, I hate as much as the first one I've used here, the same one you've repeatedly used - I am only human.
Because despite this belief that I'm this phoenix-like creature (Albeit uglier and less magnificent - it would have made a small difference if I had been worthier and more exquisite in your eyes, wouldn't it?) that can remain unscathed by anything and emerge from it all exactly as how it was like in the beginning, I am, after all, merely human.
