Words
During my hiatus, I received a letter from someone I hesitantly call a friend. The letter - like everything else, it seems - made me cry. It was so...honest, and so intense, and so obviously trying to help me.I don't feel I know the writer all that well, but apparently s/he knows me better than I thought s/he did.
Excerpts from the letter are in italics.
And stop worrying about what any of us think, including myself. What the hell do we know? What the hell do we know about Katey? Hate me for this if you want... but I feel your pain Katey. I feel it, I feel it all. This thing...it just scratches the surface, it's more of a symptom of something bigger and deeper and sadder inside of you. You stubborn woman!!! You think I can't feel how deeply this hurts you, how it reinforces other things that have happened in your life? Well, I can.
Damnit. When I read this part of the letter, I realized that was true. I continuously beat myself up because I let the little things in life weigh so heavy on me. I can't just enjoy the good that I have, I always have to surround myself with the hurts that have been done to me and guard myself against future hurt.
And the things that have hurt me have been normal, life things. Not even the worst that could have happened. And yet, I still carry them around with me. It's like scar tissue around my feelings, and if anyone is going to get through to me and actually make me feel for them, they have to battle their way through all these old scars. Sure, some of the scars have healed, but I still always know what they're from, I still always remember how they got there.
And I don't have the first clue as to what to do about it. Or even how I can or even if I could, help you, or even if you would let me.
That's just it - there's nothing you can do about it. You know this - I don't let people in. I want them in, if they'll play nice, but there's no way to guarantee that, and so I keep people out even as I'm lamenting the fact that no one's in.
And I wouldn't let you help me. You know this, too. I want to be able to do this all by myself. I don't want to rely on anyone for anything. I want to be SuperWoman, WonderWoman, the woman who's an island...I don't want others knowing I need them or I want them, because they won't always be around. And the minute I get comfortable having them there is the minute they might decide to leave. So why bother? Why not continue to do everything and be everything for myself?
I said I hesitantly called this person a friend, not because I'm unsure of him/her, but because I'm hesitant to label someone else that, someone else who may well be out of my life before I want them to leave. Life, at times, is a bitch. And an untrustworthy one at that.
To the inspiration for this post...thank you.
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