A non-poetic post for my rather un-poetic day.
It’s funny how other people know me better than I know myself sometimes. I’ve been looking for a way to explain this emotional phenomenon of mine, and so far Tom has put it the best:
Now, I don’t know if it’s that I stop caring so much as the fun and intrigue of something new gets overwhelmed with my irritability, etc. (This doesn’t generally happen with activities or literature topics or anything like that. I mean, sure, I get bored sometimes with things like that, but I can just drop them and move on. No pressure, no obligations, no guilt. Selfish? Yes. But honest.) This contradictory emotional change-over happens with people—with relationships, friendships and otherwise.
Not everyone, mind you.
Just a good majority.
The harder they push for it, the harder I push away.
My apologies; in retrospect I suppose I am a little vicious when I’m feeling trapped.
It’s hard for me to find a relationship where when I back into a corner (for whatever reason) they don’t push so hard as to drive me up the wall.
I’ve luckily developed a few friendships that are equal pressure—kind of a relationship of individuals, without interdependence. Just each enjoying the other without relying on them. Without expecting too much or too little. Does that make sense? With these people we’re just as good of friends if we hang out every day as compared to if we hang out once every few months or every few years.
I guess what I’m trying to milk out of this is a big giant “Thank You” to the people who have been there for me and haven’t given up—and also a big giant apology for the folks who continue having to put up with the inhuman side of me. I know you don’t mean to upset me, and please understand that I don’t mean to be so hostile.