Revisit and revise

I think I didn’t quite convey what I wanted to in my last post- and if I did, I did it wrong.

I made it seem as if I was the only one in the world who knew what the shitstorm was. Everyone has those worries-paying bills, having enough money for setbacks, etc. No one is immune.

well, probably really rich people, but you know, fuck them.

It’s hard all over no matter what, but I guess when you’re coming at it from two very different places in life, it’s harder. It’s even worse between a pragmatic person and a true romantic, because each of them want to drag the other into the “better” place. Better is a matter of opinion.

To a person with hardcore anxiety (and control issues), focused only on survival, love seems like a very, very expensive thing. If it goes wrong, it could throw everything off kilter. And even if it doesn’t, it’s still something you have to work at. Keep your eye on. It‘s adding a very unpredictable substance to a very unstable mixture and hoping to Christ it doesn’t blow the whole damn thing to pieces.

That not withstanding:

I know that it is presumptuous and wrong of me to determine what is best for other people, to assume I know what they want and need. It is not for me to say.

But I feel like a bomb. Like I’m running around with this massive thing strapped to my chest, and someone wants to help me dismantle it. They are there, they are willing, they want to save me from myself. They’re standing so close, pointing the exit out to me, trying to snip the wires.

But I‘m the one wearing it, and I know this thing is wired so securely to me, they’ll never get it off in time, and all I want to do is push them towards the exit so I don’t explode all over them. I’ve tried to stay still and stay patient, but time is running out, and they don’t see it. They just see me pushing them away.

Make no mistake:

Despite my “emo” tendencies, I am not the type to just stand around and explode. So I’m pulling at my own wires, but if I do blow, I’m the only one that’s in the blast zone.

Maybe it’s not how people want love to look like, but to me, it’s the only thing that makes sense. Why should I let someone ruin their life because I’m too selfish? How is that for me to say? To resign them to that fate? How can I care for someone and say “Here, wait with me while this bomb ticks down. I have no idea when it will explode but we’ll just sit here and waste precious minutes.”

Even if I distangle myself, I don’t want to take that chance. Even if I look like the world’s biggest asshole, pushing you towards that exit, it’s because I give a goddamn. It might not be the goddamn you want, but it’s there.