i've been reading. nothing terribly interesting. well. sort of. relationship stuff. marital advice. trying to look into the minds of men. or at least the mind of one man really...
i suppose a bit of back history is needed.
i was raised by a woman. from a different culture. a culture where women are not really whole. not without a man. subservient. submissive. always in a way, ten steps behind. from a young age i was warned away from men. they aren't to be trusted. they only want one thing. and once they have it. they don't need you. you're dirty. you have to accept it. you just have to try to keep them happy. so they don't leave. but in the end. they will. they always do.
and so. being raised this way. quietly. i've accepted this. i may have facilitated this. i am a woman. it's my fault. it's always my fault.
but then. i'm american. i was raised by the women in film. always strong. stubborn. will minded. and strong willed. independent. bolstering my emotions with feminism. women's suffrage. bra burning. allowing myself to be man-minded. letting my libido lead the way. trying to be easy. easy going. pretending to be cold. pretending to be strong.
it's all been at cross purposes.
i'm of two minds. i always have been.
push them away before they discard you. it's always been the way. i have a trail of broken relationships to prove it. i have the notches on my bedpost as evidence.
but love them. if you don't. if you aren't loved. what are you?
let them walk on you. just don't let them walk out the door.
but you can't control them can you? you're only a woman. a girl really. crying in the corner. mascara running. heart bleeding. weak.
and alone.
you can't trust men. they'll always leave you. because they don't want to face their own fears. they haven't been brought up with emotion. they are born and raised to be men. to be strong. to lead. to dominate. to win.
but never raised to embrace their own hearts.
so how can you trust them with yours?
they're taught to argue a point. to make a decision. to stick to it. to stand up for it.
even if it's wrong.
and we're taught to embrace them. to back them. to stand in the shadows. to hold their hand. to mix a martini. to be quiet and pretty. to agree. to lay still. to smile. to accept.
even if they leave.
and they do. don't they?
so i'm left alone. for the time. unless something clicks. until some invisible switch is turned.
until then. i'm alone. with the anger. and sadness. the sharp objects that sigh against my skin. the glass that shatters in the sink. the photos that burst into flame. and my quiet pulse that begs to be let free.
but don't do it. don't hurt yourself. he says. even though the pain i cause. is never comparable to the pain he causes. my pain is only feminine.
always ten steps behind.
quiet.
and shadowed.
nothing to take notice of.
until it's gone.
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