Relations are so fickle. You known a person all your life and assumed they will always be there. The assumption is that you will always be there to care, for me to share all my dreams, ambitions and life choices. Instead, it amazes me how people you love, trust, believe in can take a 90ยบ turn from you when you stop to think and make decisions independent from them. Since when is it lawful for another adult to personal choose what is good for a mental stable person.
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How can you call it love, if you are not there when I call you? O, I now understand. It’s called tough love. If you closed the doors to my path to you, it is suppose to hurt, causing me to return to you. It is your goal to drain me from the fumes that intoxicates my liver. You need to reattach my puppet strings. Enabling you to dictate my every move, the way I breathe, the beating of my heart. Because from your perspective I am broken and need to be adjusted, fixed.
It is funny to me, because love should be deeper than that. What was once a clear picture has begun to fad as time passes. Because in your world, the two cannot co-exist. There is no loving you, if I want to love myself and do me.
