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How do you tell someone you can't deal with their emotional output in person?

How do you tell someone, 'Hey, I'm sorry you had a rough day and hate coming home to this, but you're honestly making me feel like I do nothing when I feel like I do everything, because I sit around, do nothing I care about because I feel like I have specific obligations, and dread having to hear you cry about how stressed you are because of weight of your emotions are suffocating me right now'?

I always feel selfish in asking this. It's the same reason I'd rather console a friend via text.

It's a common topic, lately, to talk about the divide caused by media and technology. It's easy to demonize email and text messaging, but honestly, I'm so grateful for it.

I've always had high empathy, and being around people who are upset, I tend to pull those feelings onto myself - even when I personally have nothing to be upset about. Further proof I'm probably going to live in a shack in the middle of the woods with a bunch of cats and wild creatures.

My chest hurts.
snparks: (Default)
I always try to remember my dreams, because I never know when or if they will fall in line with any sort of relevance down the road.

There are dreams I've kept and used as writing inspiration, and dreams I've ended up cherishing for their cryptic, personalized meanings. Last nights' dreams were neither of those things.

Dream 1:

I was sitting in my kitchen with a friend (I don't know who, there was just the gestural behavior of being on friendly terms with them) and my friend Terry comes over. He's holding a pair of jeans and says, "Do you know anyone who wants a pair of jeans?"

I said, "Oh, I do! Those are just what I need!"

Terry hands me the jeans and I take a bite out of them. I look up, and he's eyeballing me with a questionable look.

"Are you ok?"

I tug on the seams of the jeans and they split - the layers of materials fall away from each other - and I giggle anxiously, quickly trying to cover up the fact I just tried to eat jeans. I also start tearing the fabric into small squares.

"Yeah! Just loosening it up for a project!"

And that was it. Yeah.

Dream 2:

This dream switched perspectives between two different hotel rooms, in two different hotels.

I was staying in a really nice hotel and working as a super hero under cover with a partner (super heroines names redacted for the sake of minimal embarrassment). I was spying on this bad guy villain who is a human possessed by the spirit of a violent murderer, and he was holed up in a crappy hotel (particular character name also redacted, but they are not in any way connected by any stretch of the imagination).

Long story short, the villain kept befriending the cockroaches in his hotel and sending them to our hotel room to creep us out. Also, my partner, who is supposed to be the leader of this particular group of heroes we were based around, was scared of bugs and was completely useless. I remember getting sassy and mumbling to myself about how I have to do everything because I just have to protect her stupid ass.

And that's really all there was.

Finals week fever dreams - I'm convinced.
snparks: (Default)
That awkward moment when a cup of tea changes your entire outlook on your approach to dating and romance.

I was sipping a cup of cocoa spice Yogi tea. If you've never had Yogi tea before, the tags on each bag have sweet little sayings on them. This particular cup wasn't the best - I let the water go cold, and the sugar hadn't a chance to dissolve and settled defiantly at the bottom of the mug - so I looked to the tag, thinking, 'at least give me some good advice.'

The tag said: Love is not fear or vengeance.

My immediate reaction was to lean back into my chair and think, 'well that's stupid.'

I thought it was stupid, and idealized, because love is never that easy. There is so much fear in love. I've not once been in love with someone that I didn't fear every single day that something would take a downward turn and all my affections, all my investment, would be for nothing.

But I thought longer.

And longer.

And finally realized something.

What I'm thinking of is trust. It's trust that causes fear.

Love, in it's purest, most incorruptible form, is without fear, but trust is an entirely different but related issue.

You must trust someone to love them. If you love before trusting, then there is fear. And this is why as much as I want that ideal soul-mate, I know I fear reaching out for them because I have a hard time trusting someone with the whole of me.

In the time it's taken to articulate this small epiphany, my second mug has gone cold.


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December 2014

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