Sunday, July 26, 2009

Dearest me 6 months or so from now...

I love you, I hate you. How are you? You make me feel sick, you know that. Sick with guilt. I'm always looking to you wondering 'Am I setting you up right?' and I'm always looking back at myself and finding it hard to cope with the dissapointment. I'm never good enough for you, I can never be who you want me to be.
I know, I know, I know, I'm a chronic procrastinator. Fact is I know deep down, where I keep you most of the time, that you are someone else, you are not me. The differences are subtle, and most people can't tell the difference, but I know, I know you and I are like chalk and fucking cheese. Cept I'm the chalk, everybody loves cheese.
You know this, probably better than I do, but I'm scared of you, I'm scared of what you'll do. It's why I feel so much pressure to set you up right, even though you aren't me. You will know what kind of job I did, and it frustrates me but you'll probably be proud of how I comported myself, but you never tell me that, you don't, you can't.
You're a proud motherfucker, and I'm scared, am I setting you up to be someone the world doesn't want or need? Or if I fail will you then become some big problem, that they'll lay the blame at my feet, my failure.
I know you would never blame me, you're the forgiving sort, but I just hope you always choose the hard choice, not the easy choice. You have your own demon, in a relationship not disimilar from mine to you. I know that, you don't have time to deal with me, you've got no control. Right now, you are but a babe in my arms.
But just know, that you are the scariest fucking baby I've ever come across. I just want you to be happy, not great, or important or special, just happy.
But I don't have your control, I can't make you feel what I want you to feel because by the time you read this, I'm gone, and dead. Usurped, by you, the one man Oedipus. I give you everything, you give me nothing.

Remember that time, in the park early on with Miki, where we told her we were scared of what we were becoming? She told us not to worry, easy for her to say. She said she couldn't see it in me. And we believed her. Of course neither of us were really there. But we both had her. At one time, I believed her, and I'd like it if you would believe her too.
We are best when we are good and kind and giving. I want to set you up to have the most opportunities to do that. I don't want you to shut that down, become all about proving shit to yourself. It's our mutual compulsion I know, but cool it off. Make sure you stick to what you do best, which is doing your best for others.

This is the harshest thing I can say to you, but fact is you don't matter. You don't matter to anyone as much as you do to me, and when you here those words, I'll be gone. Replaced by you. Respect that mother fucker.

Fucking Oedipus.

Hugs and kisses,

the guy who used to be you.

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