conversations

Is it just absolute naivete that allows me to believe that relationships can survive our personal faults? I want to believe that there is enough between you and I that we can deal with reality, but I just don’t know how to interact with you at the moment. Part of the problem with looking in the mirror is that at some point you stop seeing what’s really there, and only see the things that look different, or relevant. It becomes impossible to see the whole picture, because you know it too well. Or perhaps it’s because you don’t know it at all. How the hell am I supposed to interpret society at large, if I can’t even understand one solitary individual. I don’t know my place. I have no idea how I fit into the picture of the broader world, or even the insular one which I inhabit, and I sure as hell don’t know how I fit into your life. Perhaps I don’t. Perhaps that’s just the point. I went through a phase as a teenager when I believed that I had somehow been put into the wrong time. Then, it felt like I had been placed in temporal space several centuries too late. And so I went about carving a niche for myself in the time I was, and for a while it worked. But now I feel like the space is too small, and there isn’t anywhere for it to grow. And I hate that, because I like this space. It’s like when you take a bit of paper, and crush and twist it to fit into a particular gap. And for a while, it fits ok, but after a while, the more twisting and squashing you do, the weaker it becomes, until it starts to tear. And when that happens, you may as well toss it out.
Why are you so difficult to read? Are you as terrified as I am? I wish I could talk to you. I wish ours was a safe space again.