literature

See the Difference

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squibblyquill's avatar
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Literature Text

Bad sacrifice:

When I give up trying to communicate
What I feel and need,
And bleed quietly with a smile
So you can live your teenage dream.

Good sacrifice:

When I hold myself accountable
For the words I say to those who ask me
How I am, those who go out of their way
To remind me I'm not alone.

Bad sacrifice:

When I offer my heart again and again
To someone I know will hurt it,
Someone who does not think s/he is responsible
For curbing the darker urges.

Good sacrifice:

When I am patient with someone in pain
Who though in pain does what they can
To gain clarity and speak openly
About limits, fears, and needs.

Bad sacrifice:

When I give my innocence to prove
I am sincere and trustworthy
To one who will believe what s/he wants to believe
Regardless of what I say or do.

Good sacrifice:

When I put down my childish dreams,
Though sweet, unmeet for the condition of loving,
And take up a life of mutual giving
Even if it means I compromise at times.

See the difference?
I will not sacrifice my sanity so that you can have whatever you want without asking for it like anyone with a sincere heart knows they must. And by asking, sometimes all I mean is the simple act of openly communicating, rather than building deliberate walls and then webs to feel in control, to feel powerful, to feel like the hunter. We all want to feel some power, some control. But there are moments in which the desire to control above all else is nothing but a fantastically destructive delusion. Even I can see how powerless it renders you. Yes, I don't render you powerless. Your desire for power in the moment given to you for openness renders you powerless.
It's not my manipulative side that tags you, it's my vulnerable, articulate side that knows how to be open and authentic about her state, desires, beliefs. That in itself is threatening to you. Sure, it's manipulative in a way to describe you without you being able to give a proper rebuttal, but I listen for your rebuttal. And that's not what paralyzes you in me. It's my willingness to be deeply in touch with my emotions, including the darkest of them. That lights a fire in you that blinds, because you were never taught to live this way. You call it weak, because it is a power you have not mastered. You mock it because it upturns you. You judge me, for I am its locus. And then you throw all those reactions you have deep inside which you cannot own or guide, you throw them out of yourself and onto me. I am a demon for you in the moments I am most truly living out my dignity.
You're not afraid of manipulative women. They are your specialty. You're much more afraid of women like me. Women you can't simply beat at their own game, because sometimes I'm just not playing.
You have your specific fears of intimacy. I have mine. I can't face yours for you. I can only work on mine.
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