Monday, February 7, 2011

Terrible Habit

I have a terrible habit of playing this punishing game with those who care about me who I want to care about me.  It's a dare of sorts.  Oh yeah - you think you're going to care about me?  Well, fuck-you.  I'm not going to let you care.  I'm not going to let you know I care.  So there.  We'll see who wins this one.

And then I sit back and scrutinize every interaction or lack thereof for clues, trying to figure out what's going on, to see if there's enough caring happening.  And if not, I get panicky.  And if so, I get panicky.  And no matter what, I don't want the game to stop. I don't want you person to get bored or actually stop caring.  And I don't know what to do if you care too much.

Because I want there to be caring and connection, but I can't stand the intimacy, and I also can't stand the isolation.  Which means there's about a micron-thick space between me and you that feels comfortable, and it's certainly not room enough for us both, so I have to keep picking, keep deciding, me or you.  Who am I going to care about today? 

It's a bad game.  There is never a winner.

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