relationships with no resolution
I think closure is a scam. I think it exists to support the narrative that things within the realm of the living are symmetrical.Maybe I'm a hypocrite, but lately existential love is so much easier to believe in than interpersonal. Looking at old writings and drawings about how deeply you wanted someone just for time to grant you the perspective you hated yourself more than they liked you. I was standing on a storm cloud. I don't want that anymore. It's easier to accept that people who treat you like they hate you, probably hate you. No matter what else they say. Love and hate may be the same, but we all have the responsibility of choosing between the two.
I like to think I'm coming out of the bleakest time of my life and I payed very close attention to how different people treated me during it. I took note of people who visited me when my grandmother passed. I took note of people who tried to help me find a job. The friends that kept me company because they knew it was a bad time for me to be alone. I also noted who shut me out, didn't check in on me, and pushed their dramas on to me. The one thing that was worse than people that were apathetic, were the people that made a hard time worse than it already is.
Do you think objectification might be the foundation of mistreatment? Even when you have someone on a pedestal, it's some kind of objectification. It never goes well. When I think of the idea that the people I have unresolved issues with, or mistreated me, are reading these in a carnivorous silence I feel dehumanized. I know I put myself out there in a really vulnerable way but it doesn't change how I feel. In some cases, it would feel like a continuation of the abuse. It's intimidating and has an air of control. I'm cool with a weirdo lurker getting off from my suffering but when it's someone I really cared about.
It feels personal.
"The next time you see me will be during the end of the world. It'll catch you completely off guard. Collapsing buildings, a burning sun, you will hear me cry. You will find me underneath the rubble. My limbs will bent into satanic shapes . The rubble will fall in such a miraculous way that you can clearly see it's me.Your voice will be the last thing I hear, even if I can't recognize it."
^ this is an old love letter i threw away
