Elusive was this feeling of stability as it slipped in ad out of
existance only gracing its presence for a split second and then leaving
as quickly as it came in the scheme of my short life. When the time was
right for you it was not at all for me. When the time was right for me I
wasn't aware of your existance. Now I see life as a fractal of incessant
repetitions: he only did to me what was done to him I only did to you
what was done to me. I only did to you the one thing I tried hardest not
to do. Why? it was inevitable. I only feared having what happened in the
past happen again. My first situation I looked at from one side, one
viewpoint, my next I saw from the other. It was as if I was gasping for
air and inhaling in a desperate attempt to remain concious and with the
air in came all the problems contained within my surroundings. I had
found the one who could reciprocate for my love an equally large amount
of pain. I could not take anymore. I began to shut out everyone who
wanted to get in. Everyone who wasn't already in no longer had the
option of ever getting in.
When I used to hear you tell me that you understood, I didnt
believe it. It took something horrible to happen, something not in the
past, nor the future, but now. You began to repeat everything that I had
at one point or another told you in a moment through yourself you
relived virtually every feeling I had dealt with, every feelin that
brought me to this point. Every fear that you had once contradicted the
logic of was now yours to feel.
I find much sadness in the fact that in order to understand
anothers loss one must undergo a loss themselves. In order to remember
what it feels like, you must relive it. And though time has a healing
effect on my wounds, it still leaves me with the scars.
How can I help you if I can't let you in? How can I let you in
if I have no idea where I need my boundaries to be?
I often doubt my pain and what it is symbolic of. Your problems
seem so much more significant, more intense. And it is. It makes mine so
petty. but my pain belongs to me, yours belongs to you. When trying to
relieve someons pain, it almost seems that it carbon copies itself. The
first copy belonging to the person inflicted with it, bright, and dark,
the second belonging to the person trying to help a bit paler and faded.
In the end both parties keep the pain they had in the begining the
amount they chose to take in.
And then thers is love, not all are obliged to love the one who
loves them back. If so then why does it feel so horrible when you dont?
I never intended on having you frustrated, watching as you tried
to sink into the depths of my heart and seeing your pain felt in your
futile efforts. I couldnt let you in. There was fear instilled within me
fear that compelled me to fight against every effort you made.