[FOR YOU]
Posted: 07 Nov 2016, 14:03
FOR YOU
07/11/16
_____________________
07/11/16
_____________________
You know who you are. I read your journal how often? Whenever it moves. Whenever I see that journal shaped square in dust, I know you’ve taken it. You’ve moved it. Whether to read it or write in it, I never know – until I pick it up and flick to the last page.
You gave me permission. You’ll have to revoke it if you want me to stop.
But I don’t want to stop, so here’s how I will repay you. Here is my offering. My leather-bound heart, for you to open and read whenever you feel the need. I will write as if you can’t see. I will write as if this is a private tome, under lock and key for no one’s eyes but my own.
Okay, maybe that’s a lie. But I can try.
I keep burning bridges. I don’t know how I’m doing it, this time. I have no intention to. I approach people with genuine goodwill, and they laugh at it, throw it back in my face. I am stubborn, and I act without thinking. I make mistakes, but haven’t I done good, too? I compare myself too much to people I hate, and I need to stop. It’s not healthy, and it would only give them satisfaction.
See, I’m lying already. I know I’ve been a twit, I know I lean toward pessimism more than optimism, but it’s hard to have faith in anything these days. But I have faith in you. I have faith in Marisol, in Aine and Tara. I have faith in Kenlie. I have to practice what I preach, and I have to see the GOOD, rather than focusing on the bad. I am going to try. This much I can promise, and you have full permission to slap me – or stab me or shoot me – if I should slip.
But allow me just this once to focus on the bad, to lay out, here, the regrets and frustrations and sadness that I have.
You love Raven, you care about her, but I think you need to let her go. She craves death like an addict craves crack. Maybe she needs to sire. Maybe what’s wrong with her is what was wrong with me. Maybe there’s nothing wrong with her and I’ve got it all wrong. Whatever the case, I only want you happy and she seems to make you happy. If she disappears, if she drops you, betrays you, treats you like ****, fails to acknowledge any and all of the good you have done for her, you can come to me. And I will rage with you. Okay?
And just like you have a Raven, I have a Rhett. It’s stupid to think that I was so happy. He’s… well he was one of my oldest friends, and I hoped that it would remain. I hoped that if he had issues, he would talk to me. I should have opened the line of communication. That’s what you’ll tell me, right? I should be the bigger man, I should be the leader, and I should have done that. But I’m sick of it. I’m sick of always being the one to open that line, to reach out, to say ‘hey, what’s going on?’ I wanted to know what his answer was, but he evaded. ‘Technically’, he said, but what the **** does that mean? Technically, yeah. Sure.
I’ll admit that I’m jealous. When we’re fighting, when you need to cool off, you’ve got someone to go to. You go to Athena, and you go to Kenlie. You’ve got friends, confidants. I envy your ability to trust. I envy the strong friendships that you have formed that I don’t seem to be able to maintain. I thought, in Rhett, that I had regained a friend from the past, a strong pillar, but we’re too different. I sound like a priss, like a sensitive dickhead. And you’ll tell me I should try harder, then. It’s crossed my mind, but why? I was dead and he handed back his tome, no interest in using the lair. He’d basically walked from the ‘family’. But I still reached out. I still showed an interest. I try to keep informed, to keep in touch. It’s not up to me to do it again. Not this time.
Yes, I’m stubborn. You know this already. But I can’t apologise for failing to care about people who give so little **** about me. I’m not a selfless person. I’m not magnanimous. I hold grudges. Loyalty, to me, is not a liquid term. You’re loyal or you’re not. There’s no in between.
You’ve never been in between. Sometimes I wonder why you chose me. Why you keep me. Why you married me. But you’ve been my only constant. You are my constant.
You gave me permission. You’ll have to revoke it if you want me to stop.
But I don’t want to stop, so here’s how I will repay you. Here is my offering. My leather-bound heart, for you to open and read whenever you feel the need. I will write as if you can’t see. I will write as if this is a private tome, under lock and key for no one’s eyes but my own.
Okay, maybe that’s a lie. But I can try.
I keep burning bridges. I don’t know how I’m doing it, this time. I have no intention to. I approach people with genuine goodwill, and they laugh at it, throw it back in my face. I am stubborn, and I act without thinking. I make mistakes, but haven’t I done good, too? I compare myself too much to people I hate, and I need to stop. It’s not healthy, and it would only give them satisfaction.
See, I’m lying already. I know I’ve been a twit, I know I lean toward pessimism more than optimism, but it’s hard to have faith in anything these days. But I have faith in you. I have faith in Marisol, in Aine and Tara. I have faith in Kenlie. I have to practice what I preach, and I have to see the GOOD, rather than focusing on the bad. I am going to try. This much I can promise, and you have full permission to slap me – or stab me or shoot me – if I should slip.
But allow me just this once to focus on the bad, to lay out, here, the regrets and frustrations and sadness that I have.
You love Raven, you care about her, but I think you need to let her go. She craves death like an addict craves crack. Maybe she needs to sire. Maybe what’s wrong with her is what was wrong with me. Maybe there’s nothing wrong with her and I’ve got it all wrong. Whatever the case, I only want you happy and she seems to make you happy. If she disappears, if she drops you, betrays you, treats you like ****, fails to acknowledge any and all of the good you have done for her, you can come to me. And I will rage with you. Okay?
And just like you have a Raven, I have a Rhett. It’s stupid to think that I was so happy. He’s… well he was one of my oldest friends, and I hoped that it would remain. I hoped that if he had issues, he would talk to me. I should have opened the line of communication. That’s what you’ll tell me, right? I should be the bigger man, I should be the leader, and I should have done that. But I’m sick of it. I’m sick of always being the one to open that line, to reach out, to say ‘hey, what’s going on?’ I wanted to know what his answer was, but he evaded. ‘Technically’, he said, but what the **** does that mean? Technically, yeah. Sure.
I’ll admit that I’m jealous. When we’re fighting, when you need to cool off, you’ve got someone to go to. You go to Athena, and you go to Kenlie. You’ve got friends, confidants. I envy your ability to trust. I envy the strong friendships that you have formed that I don’t seem to be able to maintain. I thought, in Rhett, that I had regained a friend from the past, a strong pillar, but we’re too different. I sound like a priss, like a sensitive dickhead. And you’ll tell me I should try harder, then. It’s crossed my mind, but why? I was dead and he handed back his tome, no interest in using the lair. He’d basically walked from the ‘family’. But I still reached out. I still showed an interest. I try to keep informed, to keep in touch. It’s not up to me to do it again. Not this time.
Yes, I’m stubborn. You know this already. But I can’t apologise for failing to care about people who give so little **** about me. I’m not a selfless person. I’m not magnanimous. I hold grudges. Loyalty, to me, is not a liquid term. You’re loyal or you’re not. There’s no in between.
You’ve never been in between. Sometimes I wonder why you chose me. Why you keep me. Why you married me. But you’ve been my only constant. You are my constant.
Jesse