Some people just want to be miserable. No matter what you do for them or what you say, how you say it. Some people revel in misery, in their own misery, in the ability to blame it on others.
Sure, we all like a little drama sometimes. We enjoy an argument, enjoy someone validating us, reassuring us. But some people live for this. Some people always get the raw end of a deal. You can never make their day. You'll always have left something out, forgotten an invitation, cooked the wrong food, not dressed the part, looked too eager, asked the wrong question, answered with the wrong truth.
I know I'm moody. I know I throw tantrums. I know I crave attention. But I know when other people do it, too. It takes one to know one, after all. I know when I'm the normalizing factor and when the other person is completely out of line. I know too demanding when I see it, I know spoilt. I know unhappy and crabby, just as I know smug and I sure as hell know asshole.
The question is whether to put up with it. I want to, because I love. I love the good in some people, love their company, love the way they know me. I love the chance that something amazing could come of a simple friendship, that I could change the person.
But it makes me crazy. I can't rest, can't relax. Can't stop pacing. I question myself, feeling the need to apologise, the need to undo. I want to set things right and I go overboard. I want to hold on tighter, to make sure we're on the same page.
What I need to feel is the need to delete, to cut off. The need to remove (myself from this warped equation.) I have all the drama of a bad relationship and none of the make-up sex, none of the accountability, none of the memories. For once, I have the raw end.
Sure, we all like a little drama sometimes. We enjoy an argument, enjoy someone validating us, reassuring us. But some people live for this. Some people always get the raw end of a deal. You can never make their day. You'll always have left something out, forgotten an invitation, cooked the wrong food, not dressed the part, looked too eager, asked the wrong question, answered with the wrong truth.
I know I'm moody. I know I throw tantrums. I know I crave attention. But I know when other people do it, too. It takes one to know one, after all. I know when I'm the normalizing factor and when the other person is completely out of line. I know too demanding when I see it, I know spoilt. I know unhappy and crabby, just as I know smug and I sure as hell know asshole.
The question is whether to put up with it. I want to, because I love. I love the good in some people, love their company, love the way they know me. I love the chance that something amazing could come of a simple friendship, that I could change the person.
But it makes me crazy. I can't rest, can't relax. Can't stop pacing. I question myself, feeling the need to apologise, the need to undo. I want to set things right and I go overboard. I want to hold on tighter, to make sure we're on the same page.
What I need to feel is the need to delete, to cut off. The need to remove (myself from this warped equation.) I have all the drama of a bad relationship and none of the make-up sex, none of the accountability, none of the memories. For once, I have the raw end.
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