That day when I was pleading with you on the internet to understand that you were operating from within faulty perceptions and assumptions because of illness, I understood that I didn’t have to be doing that. I knew that after everything you’d done to me, I owed you absolutely nothing. But there was no deliberation, no moment of hesitation, no considering to do; I was doing it because I was possessed with a burning need to do it. I couldn’t sit with myself if I didn’t at least try.
I felt so happy for you when your internet puzzles seemed to signal that you’d been able to recognize the truth, and you were working to become a better man. I was proud of you. If I gave you a new outlook and another chance at a more fulfilling and meaningful life, why do you apparently think I deserve nothing but more manipulation on the internet with many of the same words as all the others in my cohort? That doesn’t make me feel much different from Teresa or any of the others, whether you think I’m a goddess or not. You now get to live closer to your truth, I get nothing. Except pain from your attempts to convince me, via internet fakery (spooky action at a distance?), that you’re a better person now. Does that feel right to you? Because it shouldn’t. If you loved me, you’d be undeniably driven to make completely certain that I truly understand what you want me to know, by communicating clearly and directly. The way I did. You might be making progress to make your life better, but you haven’t changed anything about the way you treat me. You want to impress me so badly that you faked all that stuff, but apparently writing an email and communicating honestly with me with no lies, fog, or manipulation is a bridge too far.
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That day when I was pleading with you on the internet to understand that you were operating from within faulty perceptions and assumptions because of illness, I understood that I didn’t have to be doing that. I knew that after everything you’d done to me, I owed you absolutely nothing. But there was no deliberation, no moment of hesitation, no considering to do; I was doing it because I was possessed with a burning need to do it. I couldn’t sit with myself if I didn’t at least try.
I felt so happy for you when your internet puzzles seemed to signal that you’d been able to recognize the truth, and you were working to become a better man. I was proud of you. If I gave you a new outlook and another chance at a more fulfilling and meaningful life, why do you apparently think I deserve nothing but more manipulation on the internet with many of the same words as all the others in my cohort? That doesn’t make me feel much different from Teresa or any of the others, whether you think I’m a goddess or not. You now get to live closer to your truth, I get nothing. Except pain from your attempts to convince me, via internet fakery (spooky action at a distance?), that you’re a better person now. Does that feel right to you? Because it shouldn’t. If you loved me, you’d be undeniably driven to make completely certain that I truly understand what you want me to know, by communicating clearly and directly. The way I did. You might be making progress to make your life better, but you haven’t changed anything about the way you treat me. You want to impress me so badly that you faked all that stuff, but apparently writing an email and communicating honestly with me with no lies, fog, or manipulation is a bridge too far.
Are you picking up what I’m laying down, here?
Anything I’m wrong about?