Why she is not fully committed
Women are tender souls. On the outside she may be a roaring lioness fiercely protecting her brood from the onslaught of potential danger, but on the inside she’s a single, tender Rose, waiting to be tended and cared for with the delicacy of her nurturer. A single bruise in the wrong place may have her withering away, losing her will to fight the harsh terrain that the world has to throw her way. She feels nurture and growth with you, this is a good thing.
And in her growth she wants you to open up, to show her those places that even you are afraid to go to. The places that you left untouched, years ago, memories that are so fearful and poignant that you are afraid to set foot near out of fear of what you will discover about yourself. But she wants to join you in that life long discovery, she wants to help you, cry with you, laugh with you, be angry with you. She wants her very essence to envelope the deep dark depths of your senses, your soul, your everything. To be at one with you.
Yet you won’t have that, every time she asks about your past you close up, you change the subject, or you pretend the question that she was asking is ridiculous. She doesn’t need to know that. Why would she want to know that anyway? It’s not relevant to your future now. Yet the fear of yourself is now in full swing, closing off, switching off, you recall as the last time you tried to open up went badly. Terribly badly. It was so long ago you forget, but you remember the pain. The suffocating pain, the emotional pain so intense that you just want to run as fast as your legs could carry you. Where? Anywhere. Away from here. Oh the hurt, you, I, can’t bare this again.
You’re now a closed book. And she looks on at you with wide eyes, sorrowful eyes, she desperately wants to make that connection, she knows your hurt, your pain, she’s been there before, she can sense those all to familiar deeply cutting woes that you feel in your heart. A mental connection she knows that you need to make, at one with mind and heart, but you won’t listen, it’s too hurtful. Life has dealt you a bad hand.
She pleads with you,
“Give me yourself, Raymond, your true and whole self. I want to be part of it”
But the last time you were true to yourself was a lifetime ago, before the days of the lies and the deceit and god knows what else. Your pure and true self was when you were a child, and it hasn’t grown much since then, because you’ve spent a lifetime of telling yourself that you are someone you’re not. A nice guy, that everyone likes, full of chivalry and candour, or, at least that’s what you tell yourself.
Yeah, you’ve told yourself quite a lot over the years. You’ve lied, cheated, and victimised; mainly yourself, but at the expense of other people. And you whisper sweet nothings to yourself, telling him that you’re a really nice person as you try to take on your own spoon-fed bullshit. But you can’t lie to yourself. Not really, it’s why the conflict of emotion boils over, raging, waiting for an explosion of release at the pits of your stomach. It will come, you can hear it, feel it, fearing it, usually at the most uncouth and inopportune moment. An explosion of unfairness to whoever is close-by, a release, but an unfair one at that.
You hate yourself
You hate what you’ve become
She knows all this though. She can sense your deeply troubled sense of self, she wants to get stuck in there, into the deepest fiery depths of the mind fuck cavern that is your mentality, she wants to go wandering in and poking around, setting things right, healing old wounds, helping you overcome some of the hardest things you’ve had to deal with.
She wants to be at one with you.
But you, you’re too afraid. You’re scared that she’ll run a mile, when she’s discovered some of the things you’ve done in the past that she’ll not be able to properly come to terms with it, and in astonishingly great fashion you shut her out, closed for business. You’ve never really trusted yourself before, why should you trust her fully?
She stifles a cry, she wants to go further but not until you let her. She gives up and waits for another opportunity,
But she won’t wait for too long!
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