Late Monday.
I'm sick of you calling me out every single day. "Did you call the counselor back yet? I have to keep going until you decide because once I'm done, I'm done, and I can't go back."
Yeah, well, no. I haven't called her back yet. I don't really want to. I don't feel it's a priority item. Editing all of the photos from the jobs you abandoned is a priority because there are kids hounding me every day for their proofs. Paying the bills you left behind is a priority. Making it to calls and training. Squeezing in time to just frigging vedge by myself is a priority. Don't put that decision on me. I don't even want to see your face. So much blame. And on the phone you told me that you can't talk to me because I'm defensive, and because of the insecurity I carry. And I laughed. My problems are not your problems. Here is what you have, finally, run into:
If you are hard on yourself, life will be easy. If you are easy on yourself, life will be very hard.
Tired of making it easy for you, hard for me. Tired of so much, tired in my bones. After the late night with my brothers we headed to Rick's for a fast cold one, and we sat around debriefing. There were nine of us and it's 2:30 in the morning and I feel truly that these are my brothers, and I feel more accepted by them than I have by anyone in so long a time. After about thirty minutes Shawn was talking just to me, extolling the nuggets of wisdom he has picked up in his unique way that had me laughing so hard I was crying. And when we all left he followed me home to make sure I was ok since it was 3:00 in the morning by then and Chapman was out! To go from that to the phone call with all the duress in his voice, "when are you going to call I can't keep going unless you do when when when...."
You do not bend because to bend is to die slowly, horribly. To languish into something that eventually you won't recognize as yourself. So you snap. Break. And you grow stronger at the broken places. Or try to. There is no going back, not now.
Yeah, well, no. I haven't called her back yet. I don't really want to. I don't feel it's a priority item. Editing all of the photos from the jobs you abandoned is a priority because there are kids hounding me every day for their proofs. Paying the bills you left behind is a priority. Making it to calls and training. Squeezing in time to just frigging vedge by myself is a priority. Don't put that decision on me. I don't even want to see your face. So much blame. And on the phone you told me that you can't talk to me because I'm defensive, and because of the insecurity I carry. And I laughed. My problems are not your problems. Here is what you have, finally, run into:
If you are hard on yourself, life will be easy. If you are easy on yourself, life will be very hard.
Tired of making it easy for you, hard for me. Tired of so much, tired in my bones. After the late night with my brothers we headed to Rick's for a fast cold one, and we sat around debriefing. There were nine of us and it's 2:30 in the morning and I feel truly that these are my brothers, and I feel more accepted by them than I have by anyone in so long a time. After about thirty minutes Shawn was talking just to me, extolling the nuggets of wisdom he has picked up in his unique way that had me laughing so hard I was crying. And when we all left he followed me home to make sure I was ok since it was 3:00 in the morning by then and Chapman was out! To go from that to the phone call with all the duress in his voice, "when are you going to call I can't keep going unless you do when when when...."
You do not bend because to bend is to die slowly, horribly. To languish into something that eventually you won't recognize as yourself. So you snap. Break. And you grow stronger at the broken places. Or try to. There is no going back, not now.
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