Of both falling in and falling out, what is love if not irony?
There are things I cannot control, and how I feel must be at the top of that terrible list. This is why I hate it when people do things to upset me, because inevitably I lose my fondness for them, and like sifting sand, like wisps of cloud, once the first falls, everything else must follow, if slowly, if like a tape unwinding, a train derailing. Today I told , yesterday I realized, that contrary to all my self-inflated notions and my let the more loving one be me exhortations, I can be deplorably judgemental and unforgiving when it comes to relationships and people that have lost my interest, and the best way of doing that is to demonstrate a stark disparity in attachment, I think, whether too little or too much. As gushingly thrilled as I am to revel in one-sided affection, it’s not indefinitely sustainable, and I need some reciprocity, a measure of honest interest and mutual regard, to maintain the thrall held over me.
In a way, I suppose I am quite petty to hold these things against people. But I will be the first to aver my utter replaceability, so allow me at least the counterpart right to an insignificant but utterly satisfying departure for a more interested horizon.
OK I’M JUST UPSET. AND SCARED. I don’t like losing my affection for people ): This is what upsets me about people upsetting me – I can’t help what I feel, but I don’t want to fall out of like with people, but I can’t not do that if they behave like that, so my complete helplessness in this process frustrates me to the point of tears. Of course, it’s far more nuanced than that – when it’s people I care casually about, inattention or inconsideration is usually disregarded, and distance smooths things over and future overtures are readily accepted. It’s the others, the people that I’m too serious about, that can and will break things once and for all, because the underlying hurt makes everything brittle, as it is wont to do.
I need some distance, for perspective. I want to be all soft and dewy-eyed again, I want fondness, that gleam. I’ve been reminding myself: love takes everything. This is hard.