“The cruelest lies are often told in silence” – Robert Louis Stevenson
I’m still angry. I still cannot really believe that what happened actually happened and how quickly it was swept under the rug. Worse yet, how it was made to be my problem, like I had been the cause of it.
There hasn’t been so much as a word spoken about it, by either of us, in months and yet I still get visibly upset when I think about it, like this morning.
I was then, and still am now; ready to completely burn the bridge. What I do gain from the relationship is easily trounced by how much side-stepping I have to do to avoid pitfalls.
What is the point of all of this?
I have divested myself of all energy of concern for you. I simply don’t care any longer.
I don’t really have any idea on how to go about fixing it. Apologizes, conversations, those don’t seem to change anything. Favors, accommodations, those don’t either. Everything seems to immediately default to defense, hurt feelings. Nothing is ever about understanding, humility, or compassion. My desire to fix things is completely gone. I feel that it is impossible, and I don’t know why I would continue to push effort into it.
Have you ever tried to convince someone that you aren’t telling lies when you are actually telling the truth? It is practically impossible. You accuse me of lying far too often. You assume I am slighting you when I’m not. You assure yourself that favors are played without your knowing, with the consequence of hurting you, when they aren’t.
When you have spent decades building walls, your solution to everything is building more walls.
It is impossible to be open with people who refuse to believe anything you say to them. How do you expect to grow when you dismiss any criticism as grossly irrational? How am I supposed to explain anything if you believe I am lying about everything?
So I have remained silent. The distance I’ve created has seemingly gone unnoticed; it would probably shock you to read this if you could, if you knew it was about you. Life has passed by unexpectedly well without the relationship we once had. I don’t think you have given much thought to it. Most of the thoughts you have expressed towards me for a long time now have primarily been about justice and vendettas. Your world view is warped by years of feeling under attack.
I can’t change the past, our past.
And I cannot continue to pay the price for it, either.