I haven't really been having any trouble listening to what one of my close friends has had to say lately. It just hurts to realize that I'd been doing the same thing for so long myself. And, it makes more sense when you look at it like this:
"The cup is leaking all over the fucking floor! I'm getting rid of it"
But, when you start to make excuses:
"Well, maybe I just washed it too many times."
"I'm just too clumsy with it. I shouldn't blame the cup for being delicate."
"I can just make sure that my hand covers the holes up, and I drink it fast."
... it gets a little bit ridiculous, doesn't it?
The best metaphors for me are the ones with multiple meanings; the ones that people only understand the half of, because then I get the satisfaction of someone listening to a secret while still being able to keep things to myself.
So, excuse me while I just set the cup down and paw at the glass, itching to touch the hand on the other side. The fingers that are apparently not meant to be laced with mine.
Well, isn't that just the story of everyone's life?
I'm not worried. Love isn't life. Life is life.
I am learning to differentiate.
I am constantly learning.
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