“Maybe I don’t want to talk. Maybe I just want to write.”
“I understand what the blog is for you. It’s your space, an outlet.”
I think I am difficult.
I think this statement is fact.
I begin many of my statements with I think – because I think, then overthink. When I was younger, that was the one word I loathe the most: difficult. “You’re so difficult,” said yet another friend of yet another friendship breakup, another once dearly-beloved face eventually turned nameless, faceless. After the tenth time something has happened, the problem is indeed a problem – but you’re very likely part of the problem too. I mean, I am.
I think I am difficult to love because while I am “admirably open and candid” about my complexes, vulnerabilities, and struggles – I don’t actually let people in completely. Maybe it’s a trust issue thing; I don’t do that very well, because even when I love, I hold people at arm’s length. I want to call all the shots, have things done my way. You don’t know me, I insist. I let people trace the jagged edges of my battle scars, figurative and emotional, but I don’t let them be there for me because I don’t know how to receive their kindness and love. I don’t know how to behave, or react, in that open and forgiving space. I have no problems being myself but even I don’t like myself when I am at my most difficult – pushing people away – that what makes me think anyone would want to tolerate and put up with me when I am being frustratingly difficult?
Sometimes I think, I don’t know how to let people in – but that’s a lie. I know how to do that, it’s not as hard as it’s made out to be. In fact, it’s the easiest thing to do. What I don’t know, is how to make people stay.
I know this, because I’ve done the leaving plenty times myself.
I like the words, “Hold on.” They sustain me. They remind me to keep pushing on, whenever I feel like I am in a bleak situation. It’s also an indication for a pause, which I always appreciate. Timeout. But these words also mean something very different and in that second meaning – I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know how to hold on to a person when a going gets tough, because I have been designed and built to believe and embody self-sufficiency as an armor. I am a survivalist, despite having the heart of an idealist. I don’t know how to make someone hold on to me on my extremely difficult days, like today, where I’m tired of people and just don’t want to talk. I want to be a bitch, simply because I want to be. I don’t know how those two little words fit in, in situations where I keep pushing all the good people away in my life. Why the hell should anyone want to hold on, who would want to stay? If their love and kindness are merely background music in my life, convenient depending on the weather of my day… can I really blame anyone for choosing to leave, not stay?
I do not want to be an island unto myself – I do not want to do my whole life alone – but I think it is what I know best, how to be. Self-sufficiency is the concept and fundamental that I have been taught and built for. It is the way of life that I know best; I have shaped an entire life, self, based on its definition. I just do not fucking know how not to be difficult.