you are not weak
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I wanted to, because I wanted to get a feel for him, get a closer look to see what was genuine and what was facade. and because I'm not comfortable in group settings mostly.
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he seemed genuinely surprised at this, but welcomed it. we went for a long detour. I cought myself trying to impress him. still feel a little bit ashamed thinking about it. first thing i said was some attempt to show how clever I was, how I had seen through him.
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How I could see how, exactly, he was guarded. Only realised after I had said so that I did so because I wanted to impress him.
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I had wanted to ask him things, interrogate him, find out what was what. soon however I spilled my own beans and told him about my childhood. talked about drugs, having friends die, abuse. He told me about being beaten by his dad.
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eventually I did get my answers. he wanted, desperately, to make sure that our endevour suceeded socially. He was working to make sure that no one felt alone. that no one ever felt they were locked in a basement without lights after being beaten by people they loved.
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there was still something wierd about it, and it still felt it the following days. a sort of mania. an obsession. his intentions were good, but they were feverish. still, I envied him
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I soon let my guard down entirely. We were kin, of some sort. And I told him about my failings, my struggle to live and to feel. my sense of complete alienation and weakness. about being haunted by memories of death knawing on my bones and living in constant irrational fear
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about the strange burning, feverish, inflammatory sensation i feel just under the skin and in my skull. a smoldering dark orange resentment and lust for destruction that I had turned inwards, burning myself, in a misguided attempt to spare the world
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I was sitting on a small field of grass and he was sitting up against a lamp post. After I came to some plateau in my talking, he looked me in the eyes, and said: "you are not broken." thinking about it still makes my eyes wet.
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I started laughing to not cry. it was off in a way; I could tell that it was not completely organic. he had said that before. he had had that conversation before. We had a genuine human connection, but there was something, some tiny little thing, missing
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I still, perhaps more than ever in that moment, wanted to impress him. I wanted that moment of connection to be even more important than the other times he had said it. I wanted it to mean more. Because then perhaps, it could feel more true. perhaps then I could believe it
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I laughed like a wounded animal, and told him "No." surprised to find myself saying it through my teeth. "I AM broken."
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and I just realised that I wish he would have said "you are not weak."
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End of conversation
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