Discontent

I feel sick of use, when I’m not the one feeling the brunt of the abuse. When he omits, I am disgusted. Yet when he commits I feel guilty for persecuting his actions. My emotions all too often depend on others when I should really be standing firm. Am I in the wrong for being critical of him or am I seeing the light and unveiling the hurtful truth that he himself has tried to keep hidden?

At times I feel like I can read people like I would if I had picked up their diary. But through mere actions, I extract information, pulling against a fierce resistance. This man that I know is sad as he witnesses the power he once had deflated before him. He tries to regain this power in the most maladaptive way: by pushing others down and climbing on top. It’s almost as though he feeds off of others demise, but I know this isn’t true—he is a good person deep down. But perhaps we all have a negative aspect to our personalities that will ensure that two individuals cannot be compatible. Or perhaps life changes us in a way for the worse and we don’t realize the hurt that we cause as a result. I don’t want this to happen to me. Yet sometimes I feel I pick up his negative behaviours and use them against him. I don’t want that negativity to escape to anyone beyond him—this would be detrimental to my own well-being. I want to confine it to a box, lock it, and discard it in the nearest ocean.

Among the many problems that arise, this man’s a hypocrite—but aren’t we all? Is he more hypocritical than most or am I just finding problems because I’m in search for problems? Do I desire a confrontation? In part, yes. As stated, I’m worn. I try to trust him but lies surface. Lies with no purpose other than to hurt the person I care the most about. Somehow he doesn’t realize that those lies affect more than just one person. And so this is why I become so involved and have knocked on the doors I never should have knocked. I have knocked, entered, but don’t have the power to go further. Hopefully that time will come, but I fear that when it does, it’ll permanently isolate me from this miserable man. Strange I’d say that, ain’t it?