Friday, October 19, 2007

Shouldn't we get an f-ing manual? Some sort of guideline/rule book/in case of emergency outline...something?

There must be some way to deal with this other than avoidance, resistance and shots. Of Jameson, God yes please. There's gotta be some zen-esque plane that we can all relax on - a sort of male/female common ground that nobody will fuck with.

It's quite a shocking revelation to notice that I've been throwing stones at a mirror; not quite living in a glass house but really tossing some monster unfairness around at others when I should be looking long and hard at my very own green-eyed reflection. Entienda? No? Me either. Intente explicar? Ok. I get impatient with people who are closed. Unresponsive. Passive, nonchalant and unforthcoming. If you will not offer yourself up to me, I cannot be bothered with you. So be gone.

Or so it seems...because I know I am not that way. I just haven't a clue how to tell any of you that I am not that way.

Anybody who has dated me, feel free to chime in with all of the instances in which I have been all of the above towards you. Don't all rush in here at once, now. Because while I am just as guilty as anyone who I try to poke a finger at, these things are a defense mechanism (it does sound lame, doesn't it?) honed to perfection by years of disbelief over all of the scandalous ways that people treat each other. It's not because I don't care. It's not because I am aloof or duplicitous, it's not because I can't be moved or don't have any feelings. It's because I have watched and learned, vicariously and personally.

It's a thick skin indeed that I have crafted around this painfully sensitive soul.

I'm ready to feel the tiny pin-pricks that mean my being is becoming un-numb. I am ready to get hurt again, be angry again, and deal with it. Because until I allow myself to feel these things, I won't be ready to love.

And that's what I'm here for, really.