I’m going with a Hemingway-esque theme lately.
“Write drunk, edit sober.”
Minus the editing part.
I don’t like to edit my blog posts. Aside from minor grammar mistakes, I like to let it go. It keeps me writing raw and honest. You don’t see a lot of that here. I mean, the mistakes are in abundance, yes. But the completely open writing.. that’s another story. I don’t lie here. I just, I have this fear of people’s perception of me. I’ve always struggled to stand up for myself. I pull off cynical and skeptical very well, but deep down I’m a sensitive soul.
I don’t understand why people say they’ll call and don’t. I don’t understand lies in relationships. The prior is just rude and disrespectful, the latter just winds up hurting more people in the long run.
No one wants hurt someone else intentionally. Except for a fucked few. So we hide these things. We pretend that the little things don’t bother us. We take a deep breath, count to ten and ignore what’s really going on. And do you know what good that does us?
A big, fat, fucking NO GOOD.
I’ve spent years biting my tongue because I have this deep rooted fear that it will scare people away. Relationships that could have been salvaged with honesty early on were damaged by my fear to stand up for what was right. Or they went on longer than they should have and more people wound up hurt in the long run.
An encounter with a dear friend was the first, really different experience that I had. Things were a mess. We needed to talk about it but we both kept putting it off. When we finally hashed things out and worked out a solution, he looked at me and said “I love you the same way today that I did yesterday or the day before. This is just a thing.” And I can’t tell you how long I’ve (unknowingly) needed to hear that.
Why is it so hard to get out the words that we need to say?
The first five minutes are intense and feel unbearable, but once we get past that? We open ourselves up to endless possibilities.