Note To Self

Tell me why. I want to hear it in your words, without me having to prompt you.
Asking you, manipulating you in ways that make me feel like I'm not worthy of love to begin with. That whatever love you have to give surely isn't meant for me. Someone like me. Needy. Used up. Conflicted, complicated, unsteady. Unlovable.
You said that once. That I was unlovable. Maybe it wasn't you, but it's been said, time and again. As if it's my job to make myself lovable. Deserving of love, which we all are, from birth.
Our birthright.
So I'm told.

You should be more openhearted. Less quick to judge. You're changeable. You go from zero to 90 in seconds flat.You're unreliable, inconsistent. One day your up, the next you're at the bottom of a well and you pull the ladder in behind you.
I don't think you're happy. Me telling you I love you won't change that.

Try, I said. Go ahead. Find space somewhere within that compartmentalized heart of yours. Your heart that parcels out rewards for good behavior, affection for submission, support for efforts well made,  and promises of a love that doesn't have to earned.

I shouldn't have to fight for this. This shouldn't be so hard. Maybe if I let go, loosen my grip then we can share the same air and learn to breathe together again, as one. Gentler, kinder, with forgiveness in mind.

Bu dum dum. Ba da da dum dum. Hear that? It's a murmur. It beats to it's own drum. If you listen closely, you can dance with me, unsure and irregular, steady and strong.

Comments

  1. UnknownMay 19, 2020 at 4:29 PM

    This really gets to the VO we hear in our heads a lot, the constant inner monologue of talking to ourselves and analyzing ourselves at the same time, and imagining what we would say to people if we could...
    SD

    ReplyDelete

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