letters i'll never send
Please talk to me.
I can't know what you're thinking or feeling if you don't tell me. Although it is true that I could probably read it out of your mind if I really wanted to, that would be both highly unorthodox and terribly uncouth of me.
I know you are an intelligent person. I know that you understand that the corollary to taking responsibility for your own happiness is taking responsibility for your own unhappiness. The key here is the responsibility part. I think we can agree that everything that happens to you is at least in some way your responsibility. You invite it into your experience. If that's true, then at least part of the responsibility for what happened that night rests with each one of us. All Three of Us could've made different choices or done certain things differently, such that what happened would've been avoided.
But we didn't.
I take responsibility for my part. I recognize that there are things that I would go back and do differently. No. Please listen to me. Read it again. I apologize for my part in what happened; I own it.
On a surface-level this whole situation has descended into stupidity. I know we both can recognize this. I acknowledge in advance that what is about to follow is based on the assumptions I've made based on your lack of response to my attempt to start the conversation. However:
This is a line in the sand that I must draw: I will not pursue a partnership (and as my friend and sister-from-another-mother, you are my partner as much as any man could ever be) with someone who is unwilling to be my partner. I will not carry it all, all the time. In my opinion, it is not a partnership if one partner refuses to own their own shit. And that's why, in my view, this isn't me over-reacting.
This isn't about that night. This is about your reaction(s) both on and after that night. This is me making a clear and unequivocal statement: I need you to honour yourself for the infinite and incredible being that you are. I will not allow you to cop out on this, despite the fact that I hate more than anything to be out of contact with you, because you are so integral a part of my life; because you sell yourself so far short of the absolute goddess that you are when you perceive yourself as the victim of your own life. Nothing just happens to you. You are a magnificent and powerful being, capable of manifesting anything, anything you desire. And if you know that, if you really know that, then you know that everything happens because you placed an order with the universe and it sent you precisely what you asked for.
It is not about what happened. It is Not About What Happened that night.
And at least now I'm sure you know that.
I can't know what you're thinking or feeling if you don't tell me. Although it is true that I could probably read it out of your mind if I really wanted to, that would be both highly unorthodox and terribly uncouth of me.
I know you are an intelligent person. I know that you understand that the corollary to taking responsibility for your own happiness is taking responsibility for your own unhappiness. The key here is the responsibility part. I think we can agree that everything that happens to you is at least in some way your responsibility. You invite it into your experience. If that's true, then at least part of the responsibility for what happened that night rests with each one of us. All Three of Us could've made different choices or done certain things differently, such that what happened would've been avoided.
But we didn't.
I take responsibility for my part. I recognize that there are things that I would go back and do differently. No. Please listen to me. Read it again. I apologize for my part in what happened; I own it.
On a surface-level this whole situation has descended into stupidity. I know we both can recognize this. I acknowledge in advance that what is about to follow is based on the assumptions I've made based on your lack of response to my attempt to start the conversation. However:
This is a line in the sand that I must draw: I will not pursue a partnership (and as my friend and sister-from-another-mother, you are my partner as much as any man could ever be) with someone who is unwilling to be my partner. I will not carry it all, all the time. In my opinion, it is not a partnership if one partner refuses to own their own shit. And that's why, in my view, this isn't me over-reacting.
This isn't about that night. This is about your reaction(s) both on and after that night. This is me making a clear and unequivocal statement: I need you to honour yourself for the infinite and incredible being that you are. I will not allow you to cop out on this, despite the fact that I hate more than anything to be out of contact with you, because you are so integral a part of my life; because you sell yourself so far short of the absolute goddess that you are when you perceive yourself as the victim of your own life. Nothing just happens to you. You are a magnificent and powerful being, capable of manifesting anything, anything you desire. And if you know that, if you really know that, then you know that everything happens because you placed an order with the universe and it sent you precisely what you asked for.
It is not about what happened. It is Not About What Happened that night.
And at least now I'm sure you know that.
posted by dichotoMe at 3:27 p.m.
1 comments
