kuangning | Things I Probably Never Told You (Reply)

And probably never will again. This was sparked by both some recent introspection I've been doing, and something in a journal I read regularly... a post on "How to Love Me." While very few of the sentiments in that post fit me, the idea intrigued me enough that I'm copying it.

Don't ever let me know/feel/suspect that you'd really rather be somewhere else. I don't want to know your dreams, hopes, or fantasies if the girl involved isn't me.

If I "know" that you want to be elsewhere, I'll make you happy, and reckon the damages later.

If you have to ask if it's hurtful, it probably is.

If it's hurtful, and you ask me, I'll say "it's okay," because you've just let me know it's what you really want, and I'll reckon the damages later.

"Reckoning the damages" usually includes facing the fact that you're happier without me and acting accordingly.

The first time you violate rule number one will be the last time I feel secure in the fact that you love me.

I know the difference between sex and love; attempting to fix things by taking me to bed instead of talking it through will make it worse by convincing me that that's all you want/need from me.

Anything you say can and will be held against me in the middle of the night, when I'm alone with my thoughts.

The moment when it seems that I need you least is the moment when I need you most, and that moment is the one chance you'll have to change my mind forever.

I'll forgive you any and all trespasses. But I'll devalue myself accordingly, and reckon the damages later.

It's not the roses I'll remember most often. It's the time spent walking back roads, hand in hand through the snow.

It's not the comment that fell just short of being funny that will sting the most. It's the moment when I notice you've stopped introducing me as your S/O.

When I stop asking for your company, it's not that I want it less. I'm just facing the fact that you always say no.

For every time I let you see me cry, assume there were a dozen times I didn't.

When I stop wanting to consider the future, it's because I've stopped being able to see you in it. Scolding will not help; if you cannot change my mind, then have the grace to be silent.

Remarks on how poor my judgement is and how unmotivated I am will accomplish nothing beyond convincing me that I am a waste of time, space, and resources.

When I share my dreams with you, it is diplomatic not to laugh, polite not to snicker, and imperative that you hear me out without pointing out how impractical they are. I do know the difference between dreams and reality.

When I stop trying to share my dreams with you, I have accepted the fact that you are no longer my friend.

When you stop sharing your dreams with me, I will assume, first, that you no longer count me as a friend, and secondly, that your dreams no longer include me. I will act accordingly.

Giving my body to you after this point may still be pleasant, but I'm told that cyanide is sweet, too.

Pointing out how much of what's gone wrong is my fault is redundant. I will already have assumed that it's All My Own Fault, and reckoned the damages accordingly.

Love me broken, and I'll share joy in season, too. Go in trying to fix me, and we'll both get hurt: my wounds run deeper than your sense of obligation.