Thursday, January 26, 2012

In The Mean Time

I am able to handle quite a bit. I've lived through a nightmare of false accusations and punishments for someone else's imagination. I can suffer with the best of 'em and still come out the other side relatively whole. I am way stronger than I ever thought I could be and I have managed to survive an exhaustively gut-wrenching series of counseling sessions that would fell most people.

And yet.

I am naive. I am innocent. I like to think I am a good judge of character. I am (apparently) not. I trust people when they tell me things. I believe them when they say they are going to do whatever it is they say they are going to do. I look for the positive and want to help my friends if they need an ear, a shoulder, a hug. Respite from the chaos of their own lives. I assume they would do the same for me.

And yet.

I am hurt. I have feelings. I am capable of feeling sad, hurt, angry. Confused. I never expect the same level of interest in my life that I show to others' problems, issues, concerns. But I have problems that I wish someone would want to help unburden me from. It's not easy for me to bring someone in to my life. It's not easy for me to feel vulnerable.

And yet.

I have never felt so vulnerable, so confused, so hurt and so foolish as I do tonight.

3 comments:

  1. I have a friend with whom I occasionally share emails with one line, "I hate people." And, yet, I hope for the best when I meet new ones or run into old friends. I don't know why humans have such a hard time cutting each other a break. It takes so little from us to be nice but we just can't seem to muster. I'm sorry you are having a rough time.

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  2. Thanks Frog. I think my expectations are too high. Either that or people are just plain mean.

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  3. I am always here for you! All you have to do is write or call me. I just don't want to bug you anymore. Love, Mike P.

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