Emotional Bleeding

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And you tap me on my shoulder…..

At that moment I realized how freaking pathetic I am. How desperate I am. Its not the first time, of course I know, the last two times weren’t any difference. You know the feeling you get when you are holding on the edge of a rope struggling and you know you are losing your grip, little by little you are slipping but you still hold on with all of your might.

I should let go, I know I should. Yet, I hold on. I can’t see the blisters on my hand but I feel it. An invisible pain, it’s the worst kind you know, it hurts like hell but you can’t see where it is and hence how to treat it. Just try to imagine bleeding emotions, you bleed and bleed without realising it until you are truly bled dry.

Can you imagine what it’s like to go day in and day out without the ability to lean over to kiss you or to just hold your hand. I am sure you have no idea. How could you.

This post, the conversation, the suddenness and timely will seem like a surprise to you. In fact, I would be surprised if it wasn’t. I agree that communication is key but its also important that you ask the right questions, questions to which the answers are exactly I want you to hear. Until then I will just do what I do best – be strong, be quiet and try to be the supporting pillar every one needs or expects me to be.

Day in and day out, solving my families’ problems, work problems and some times your problems. Don’t take it the wrong way, my life is not burdensome because, among other things, I have to listen and help you with your problems. Solving problems is what I am good at, listening, understanding and approaching things reasonably. But it’s hard, it’s draining and at times it seems impossible, but isn’t that what life is about. The struggle, the pain and hardship are all essential components of life.

When I say “I can’t do this anymore” and you ask “do what”, I knew then there is a problem, a mismatch of emotions and feelings, a missed connection and a feeling of hopelessness.

I just can’t anymore. I hope you know I did fight for you, for me and most of all for us. Now, I am just too tired and exhausted, emotionally drained and my heart is almost ready to give up.

When you look back, I hope you don’t judge me by the lack of scars on my body. I hope that you see that the most painful wounds; you know the ones that never really heal, are inside hidden from the naked eye, waiting patiently for you – for a better you – to come along.

Endless nights have I replayed this conversation only to realize it’s not really a conversation but just a boring monologue. A speech about guy who should know better, a guy that if “emotional evolution” had its way would be extinct by now.

Now, I must let go. The pathetic thing about this is that I am not worried about what will happen to me when I let go but rather whether you will notice that I no longer there and things are not the same. Its that fear that makes me hold on, the fear that all this time I was a nobody to you.

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