once more with feeling…

no matter how many times we fall for it, fighting with you is always a surprise. we’ve been hundreds of time down this thorny path, we’ve left hair, blood, fingernails and peace down its barbed bushes, but it always catches us by surprise.
once it was about me crying every three seconds and storming off upset to observe my tears in the bathroom mirror. it gave you the idea that my tears were always like waterworks and i could turn them on and off whenever i wanted. now you cry too sometimes. i wonder if this means you understand my tears better. i wonder why you should understand me better in the first place.
you say i do not understand you. you always feel my disapproval deep inside and are half convinced that it is envy. is it? i am not sure i am built for envy. disrespect yes. it hurts to see that in your eyes, the disrespect for the person you say is closest to you, the hurt coming from the one who you bare yourself to. is it true? is it? how do i do that? am I that uncomfortable with your openness?
we both know when things precipitate and despite that, we still say the same things we have said a million times before. i don’t love you, you don’t respect me, i can’t express anything and you bare it all. i am your closest friend but your only in my top twenty or so. old old old. but still gold. or in this case that sticky sickly tar we used to make gum off as kids which would get on to our clothes and which would cause us both to be punished.
strangely, i do not feel any kind of hurt from you. it comes from not being understood, it comes from being frustrated to the point of madness, because only you can get to me like this. only you can profess love when you resist me this way. only you can call me on my strange and scareddy cat personality, only you know where my skeletons lie. and i am more scared by the fact that you have never seen them, but you know exactly where they are and why.
it is an ongoing circle suffocating us both, preventing us from achieving what we want most…to live happily ever after. after all we are all royalty in our way, even if we do not speak in the same language. we are warring frenemies who profess love. i worry that we have lost it, but since we are both in tears, it means that it is still in there somewhere hiding and sticking its poisonous tongue at us.
we separate because it is late and we always have living to do, but it is certainly not over. we won’t stop looking for that rosy happy ending, and maybe expect each-other to fall into line. it won’t happen of course but at least the family affairs will be affairs to remember.


4 thoughts on “once more with feeling…

  1. it gave you the idea that my tears were always like waterworks and i could turn them on and off whenever i wanted.

    Some women are quite skilled in the art of ‘waterworking’. One piece of advice for your female audience: if and when you have children, DO NOT EVER LET THEM SEE YOU CRY. Not even for a french tearjerking movie about some orphan named Jacque.

  2. o blete ca ke bo ti… amon mer cer blogu demokratik qe ke mer t keqen… mu o m kon bo bllok ke balena m tok’ t that’ o nuk e di se c’are… nuk kom access fare.

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