07 November 2016

Untitled. Just like your mom.

I've moved past looking at posts about love and partnership and burning with jealousy, self pity, and resentment.

Now I wonder - what makes love tick?

Is it cooperation? Dependency? Friendship? Companionship? Empathy? Lust? Affection?

Am I without these things? If so, is it my shortfall, or his? Wouldn't it be easier to go back to how things were and go back to swallowing my upset like a thick, bitter syrup? Or the excusing self blame that was the spoonful of sugar?

I keep thinking there is some comparative scale by which little offenses can be relatable and thereby normal. Other guys do this or that and we say hey, that's marriage. But there's something underneath those arguments, some glue, that I'm missing.

She says, I was only ever happy when I kept things happy by being quiet.

She says am I crazy.

And we all chime together - this isn't normative by the global scale of relative relationships.

But maybe there's just no glue. Maybe he didn't put any glue down, and she is picking up pieces as they fall off, and he's asking why she keeps breaking everything.

I don't need to ask myself if I am capable of happiness or if I deserve it now. But I'm still interrogating myself, daily - am I capable of happiness here? How much is true? What is twisted? Who do I want to be? Can I be that woman here, in this situation?

And the question I hate asking.

Will it hurt too many people to cut my ties and escape out of this cocoon I've built up around myself? If I were happier, or if I were lost and regretful - it doesn't matter to me as much as "will it, will I, wreck everyone else for no good reason?"

Because wouldn't it be easier to squeeze my bulging self back into the shell and see through what I've never seen reason to leave before?

Can I grow, can I move, in this one spot, so I don't make anyone uncomfortable with my mass?

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