The conversations we can’t have.
I wrote this one awhile back and haven’t had a chance to post it yet…
I’ve been thinking a bit lately about the things we don’t say. For all of our words…
It’s Simone, dealing with… a certain slightly narcisstic…rockstar-esque… dude (if you’re paying attention, you know who I am talking about. Whoops).
It’s Amy not being completely clear with Douche Canoe. That she’s not going to sit around while he fucks this other girl, and tells her about Amy at the last minute. Not saying I will be done with this. Really.
It’s the… conversations we don’t have.
The difficult questions we don’t ask.
I’ve done it. When my Ultimate Crazy drop-kicked my heart into oblivion. I did not force the discussion like I should have.
I waited. There were a few e-mails, a few text messages but… mostly? I avoided.
I already knew the answers. But I couldn’t hear them. And I couldn’t walk away. So. I pretended not to know.
It’s what we do.
“No question is so difficult to answer as that to which the answer is obvious.”
– George Bernard Shaw
Sometimes we do talk. We do have conversations. We do ask questions. But… the conversations are always in circles. The questions were always half-ass and indirect. There was always a door left wide open in them. We’re always hoping for the right answer, the one to the questions we’re not actually asking… We always allow for the indirect answers instead. An escape out the door left open.
These conversations never give us the REAL answers we’re looking for. The one we need to hear. We never ask directly, so we’re answered in kind.
Why don’t we ask the direct questions?
Why don’t we ask for action? (…sometimes “ultimatum” shouldn’t be a dirty word.)
Or, better yet, why don’t we just close the door?
I’ll tell you why.
We can’t, ever, give up hope. We don’t eveer want to be the ones to ask the question, the one we know the answer to… but can’t bear to hear.
Why not? If we know it any way?
Why do we keep hope alive? What is there, really, to hope for – when it gets down to it?
Why is it so very very heart-wrenchingly difficult to speak the truth? Instead of half-ass questions, why do we not instead say…
“There is no hope here. You forced me to give it up.”
“In the way that you have treated me. In how this has happened, in all the things done… and not done.”
“There is no hope.”
That is the truth that we can’t bear to admit, sometimes. The answer, no matter what words would be used to say it, that we cannot hear.
Even when we know it already.
Instead. We make up an irrational, unwarranted, unrealistic hope.
We do hope – when it should be gone. When it is gone.
For what? What do we hope for?
For this person to be sorry? For this person to realize what they’ve done? What they are doing? For this person to change?
For the answer… to be different?
If we just wait… it will change?
When we know that won’t happen. We know it so deep in our core that we cannot, absolutely positively, actually ask about it? We don’t talk about it at all, because, in truth, there is no question?
We already know.
So. You must realize what this hope we cling to really is.
The conversation we don’t have.
The questions we don’t ask.
The answers we can’t hear.
When does that hope ever get us anywhere? Aside from waiting and prolonging this? Starving off the inevitable? No matter how long it takes and how many indirect answers we hear to questions we half-ask?
And why do we forgive these people the absolute injustice that they have done to our hearts and our souls? Why do we create this… hope that allows us to hang on to them?
When they have injured us so deeply? When we know how wrong this is so well already, we can never speak it aloud? Because they’ll just reiterate it for us again, tells us again how we’re asking too much – and we cannot CANNOT stand that?
The reality of this pain is THAT deep? AND that obvious – that clear??
We instead play pretend?
Do we ever stop to think…
If we actually had those conversations, asked those questions, made those ultimatums, and closed those doors, what might that bring?
Maybe the end of hope. But it was irrational to begin with.
Maybe the end to the thought that “…well, you never know…” because we ended it. But then, we knew all along. Actually.
But maybe… also… some closure? Some control in a situation where we have given up all control, even allowed the other person to make US forget, ignore, play pretend, in light of how they have and are behaving? Where we give up and give in at every single turn?
And maybe… the only way to truly know if you were that awesome and it did feel that way for both of you and this other person does care about you that much and is sorry… is to take a fucking stand, to close the door, to refuse to ignore and play pretend…
… to walk away…
…and to find, that was when they followed?
When you said “enough!”
… and they actually decided… you were right?
How else do you know??