Sometimes I wonder if I’m being too harsh. I have this tendency to pendulum from one extreme to the next as I seek out balance. I went without boundaries for so long that sometimes I set the shock of my electric fence too strong, arrowed innocent bystanders out of fear of them being enemies, build a wall so high that I can’t see the sun at my favorite time of day. Sometimes I have to pull back and readjust. So I pause, and I ask myself if I’m being too harsh.
But then, after you dumped your feelings and personal life on me after I asked you not to, after you said you appreciate me and would do anything to help but couldn’t even help make sure your child’s homework got done after school so he didn’t have to cut into bedtime when he got home just to do it – after that I realized maybe I’m not being harsh enough. This stuff is still getting to me, it’s still happening. Maybe I need to add a few layers of brick to the wall, to keep the stink from the dump from seeping in. Keep your shit from leaking in.
Feelings
It’s not that I don’t care about your feelings, but I don’t.
It’s more that feelings aren’t helpful here, not yours.
I pride myself on my letting go –
you’ve been gone, thank God.
Proud of what I’ve accomplished alone –
even cohabiting, I did it alone.
You don’t seem to know how to speak
without feelings, not for me.
There is a place for feelings, not with me. Go to therapy.
You tell me you’re tired – I’m tired, of you.
I don’t care how you feel, about your life, or mine.
Keep your feelings to yourself, stop asking about mine.
Much love, until next time.
Madeline May I... 