This is to a specific person, who is frustrating me to high hell right now.
Your confident strides are trampling all over my old wounds.
Trampling on my battle scars.
I am full of far more awesomeness than you have yet seen.
Partly because I’m still learning, and I’m expanding rapidly,
So if you’re not paying attention, then you’ll miss the shooting star.
But I am not as brilliant when I am around you, because you make me nervous.
When you’re around, my stomach flip flops, my voice quavers, the crystalline sparkle of my thoughts turns to mush and the words fall from my lips like rotting stones.
You see, your ego is just so DAMNED BIG.
And you project it out into the world around you,
You project your version of reality into the minds of all around you.
That’s part of what makes you so awesome.
But you don’t seem to know how to turn it off.
And, you see, I am an empath. I feel the feelings of those around me.
I’m still learning to tell the difference between my feelings and other people’s feelings.
I’m still learning how to turn that shit off when I don’t want to be empathizing with someone.
Sometimes in your presence it seems like I might drown in the ocean of your ego.
You are a difficult person for me to be around.
You’re thrilling and exciting and more than a bit titillating,
And being around you also feels like being run over by a runaway freight train.
Trying to clearly communicate myself to you feels like swimming upstream.
And after a while, the accumulation of misunderstanding, mangled thoughts and words, your snarky sarcasm, your condescending support…
After a while, it begins to feel like a collection of festering paper cuts.
Your ego is just so fucking big!
It is a tangible thing.
You fill up a room, you create the momentum of the conversation.
You are used to, and comfortable with, constantly being the spectacle, the center of attention.
And your confidence is trampling all over my old wounds.
They are the wounds of my childhood… they are the wounds of my own Ego,
Nearly big as yours, having been batted down, restrained, held back,
So many times that it forgot what freedom felt like.
The thing is, I don’t want your ego to be smaller.
Well, I surely wish you would learn to tread more delicately
On the edges of other people’s boundaries.
I wish you would learn a bit of restraint.
But I do not wish to restrain you. I do not wish to diminish you.
I want my ego to be as free and big as yours.
I am jealous of this sense of glorious freedom with which you seem to move about the world.
You see, I told you at one point that I thought I could learn a lot from you
About how to be the kind of person I want to be.
I think that telling you that was a mistake,
Not because it was untrue, but because it made you think that I needed you to teach me something.
It made you condescending
(well, you were already condescending, but telling you that made it so much worse).
I don’t fucking need you to teach my anything.
I learn from you about how to be the kind of person I want to be,
The same way I learn from every single person I meet.
I learn by watching, I learn by listing.
I learn not from the words you may say to me,
But from watching the way you live your life.
I learn by observing your in-betweens,
and the empty spaces that you keep.
And often as not, the lessons that I learn are not flattering to you.
Often as not, I learn from you by observing the things about you that I do not wish to be.
You are a fucking pain in the ass, and a somewhat exhausting person to be acquainted with.
But you’re also brilliant (literally, a brilliant glittering star).
I am drawn to you, as others are, to bask in the shining glow of your glorious ego.
I am drawn to you because just by nature of you being yourself,
Shining so brightly the way you do,
Your brilliance makes it easier for me to shine more brightly myself.
But you’re not an easy person to be around.
Often as not, I’d rather keep you at arms length.
I feel I must put up shields and armor to guard against the onslaught of your ego.
I need a life jacket to make sure I don’t drown in the oceans of your ego.
And I gather, in your condescension,
That you may feel a similar need to guard against me.
You may feel a need to guard against the glittering knives of my intellectual analysis,
Which has the power to cut you to shreds, cut you down to size,
Cut away the sparkle and the fluff to see the naked soul underneath.
And that too, is fair and reasonable, just as my own feelings are.
But I’m tired.
I’m tired of you.
I’m tired of trying to so hard to be understood by you.
Because you’re not actually trying to understand me.
And that hurts.