How should I feel? How would a normal person feel?
I guess partially being happy for the love you've had, and that I do feel. But then I thought of how much I'm not right for you, and even though I know that it's also about how you're not right for me, my sickness decides to focus on how I am flawed and lesser than, and how much I miss you.
I thought of how much I changed through the relationship and ended up caught up in myself, unable to see you. I thought about how much I hurt you and I wish I could make it right.
Maybe the wish to get back with you is only to prove myself in your eyes, that I am better than anyone else or than specific others.
I listened to this podcast yesterday about how we don't even realize the things we're good at because they are easy, simple and a given, so it's hard to even imagine that others would struggle with them unless we get the praise or recognition necessary to see it and truly believe it.
Of course, singing came to mind, and writing. If I do my best concerts in the shower in front of only myself, I don't get praise, but shouldn't it be enough? I love it, I enjoy it, I have fun with the challenges, sometimes they frustrate me too. I do it so much until I'm too tired and fuck my voice up. Writing is a bit different, but still partly like that, and it used to be even more when I was younger and I'd create fantasy stories of things I didn't even know.
And today, as I made the mid-morning coffee and warmed up the cake, I thought about how hard it is to do things just for myself. I can take myself out on solo dates or have movie nights with pop-corn and cozy stuff, but if it comes to a bigger project, like writing a story, baking a cake, cooking an elaborate meal, making a song, cleaning or tidying up thoroughly, it's such a difficult process, but if it's for someone I love, the simple image of seeing them happy and enjoying things, makes me happy. In a way, this is also about that recognition, about proving myself in their eyes.
I guess what I'm aiming at is to do it for oneself.
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I have a new dream. It is that you live with us too, doing history and language-related workshops at the school or in the house, working the land, making handmade things, writing, laughing, reading and enjoying the sun. I think you also underestimate the effects of the weather on your mental health.
In my new vision, you come to visit for a week, you're now free from the blockages life has brought upon you and I am too, meeting again feels right, completely right, so you mention coming back, staying for longer, slowly growing the idea of moving here too. I'd been waiting for this moment since before leaving and finally, my heart can be full again.
- But I know you love the city, I know you want things to happen around you, I know you have your friends here too, so I know this dream is very far-fetched. I also know my issues, I know how much I've hurt you and how much I've tried to get better, with only partial success.
I am truly sorry for all the pain I caused you, all the new fears and triggers I created in you. At some point, my pain took over and I couldn't even tell you why I love you anymore, cause for each good thing, my brain would push two bad ones in. I want to make a list of all your great characteristics and all the reasons why I love you, both including me and outside of me, but it's too late for such a list, I fear that it will hurt too much and I will regret it all even more. I fear that will bring more obstacles to the unlikeability of this dream.
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As I laughed so hard with my friends this past year, as we moved closer, supported, accepted and celebrated each other, I thought of you. Of how much I wish you had been more of that too, at times, that wave of strength, celebration and joy, an enabler of the good things in me. But I cannot understand what it was of either me, my past, our present, past or you, that kept me from showing myself fully to you, without fear or pressure.
I was so worried about seeming too eager, too much, dumb, too interested, too fat, too disgustingly human... I was weighed down by the thought of you rejecting parts of me which eventually would turn into a full rejection of me, that I subconsciously hid parts, slowly caging myself into a box that I myself had created of what, how and who you would like. I wish I had seen this before, I wish I had been able to stop myself when we still had a chance.
The trigger for our break up was my joy, I focused so much on only that, I couldn't see all the other things you gave me. I obsessed with wanting to wholeheartedly laugh with you, I thought that plus our ease and calm, we could have "Sosiego", the word I chose for this year. Both joyful and at peace.
I love you so much, even now, after all we've been through, after all the pain and even through each time I get triggered and remember the things that deeply hurt, the things that make me, until this day, feel insecure, uncomfortable, stuck and frustrated. Even through this all, I love you.
I think I'm selfish, I thought of the things you like and how I never really got too involved in them. I think in a way, I caged you too, talking about emotions and the past, instead of the things you loved like football and history. I'm sorry I got impatient when you'd tell me the same story for the 10th time, I'm sorry I forget things so often, but mostly I'm sorry for how much anguish, anxiety and wounds I caused you.
I'm sorry for my selfishness, I'm sorry for having tried to change you, even if it was subconsciously. The only thing I can see that was good about this all is that we did grow together, quite a bit. We went from our 20s to our 30s, we opened our wounds and disinfected some bits, we became ripe fruit. I wish now I could eat you whole, but in this same growth we found seemingly inescapable differences, we made new wounds. Have we learnt our lessons?
I fear that after all this, in the end, I'm just like your ex.