16th
Making progress. Coming and going with this. Hours and hours of talking with my mom about everything under the sun. About things in life I’ve never heard her say and she’s never heard me say. And so much of it is me recognizing all of my irrationalities and refusing to be anything but wildly emotional. But … making progress.
I suppose part of the problem is I always knew you were capable of this. One of your charms is your ability to think with your heart and leave reason completely out. It’s also one of your downfalls. I always knew you were capable of never really having your life together. Of always being just a few steps shy of having it all but being completely happy to just barely be one step ahead of it crumbling. Didn’t you and Andrew even have a name for it? Annoyed I can’t think of it - but you did. That’s not always something to be proud of.
I just never, ever assumed that you’d be this much of a disaster with out wanting me to be a part of it. That’s the part I am having such a hard time understanding. And I guess I’ll never understand what changed in your mind.
Never having any money. Never knowing where it went. Always breaking your phone. Always being a few days late on your bills. Always buying gifts you couldn’t afford. Check kiting. Credit card debit. But I just put it all in the category of charm, personality. A belief that you’d rather the experience than the money. Wrong - inability to think about the next step. Inability to hold it together.
I told my mom that I thought when I made the decision to really be with you again, that I’d just be smart enough to protect myself from it. It’d just have to work to own what I wanted to own and know that you’d never be able to support your side. And I was ok with that for the sake of love. It was a very clear conversation with myself. I thought about your snowboarding and all of your trips. I thought about your desires to take your dad to Yankee games. I thought about all of that. And I was completely fine with it. Here I was making massive leaps towards you. Understanding and oking your faults. And you just ran away. I can’t stand that I so completely let myself think you’d be perfect and ignored all the many, many reasons you weren’t.
How many times in the past three weeks have I said to you “you never met me halfway.” I’m starting to realize that you really didn’t. You didn’t in deciding all of this. You didn’t in considering me during your trip. And you didn’t all of the many, many years before. If you really wanted this to work all those years you would have figured out how to take a few more steps my direction. How to pull yourself just a bit more together.
When you said “It didn’t work” I could barely breathe. But you’re right. And I’m not sure we saw the same reasons. But you’re right. But I still can’t stand it.
