I decided that leaving you with the story that I hate Supergrover is unfair. Because she is not talking to me, she would not have realized what I was doing publicly. So, I sent her this. I’m letting you in because I want all of you to know what a complex, 3D character she is, and how much I’ve loved her for over 10 years. To make it clear that this relationship is not easy, but it is so worth it. She is tough as nails. I mean, a total black cat. I am a golden retriever. Over the last 11 years, our yin and yang has made me the best version of myself. I am stronger and harder to manipulate because she taught me how to advocate for myself. Or, as I put it nine years ago, “the hottest woman I know taught me how to be a better man.”
You said that my narrative was old and tired. I’m glad it looks that way, because it’s why we’re not making any progress. By not acknowledging what I’ve said about you in these e-mails or on my blog (for better or for worse- I’m open), it makes me feel unheard. I feel like I have gone on for a very long time being controlled by a power imbalance that is fair (your work) and is not (hiding your emotions about what I’m saying). The only things that you’ve pointed out about my writing are what’s wrong about it to you. Nothing about what is right. I couldn’t help but write today because I saw in my Facebook Memories that it was the anniversary of my favorite blog entry I’ve ever written:
I’m sure that this is one that incensed you, but I loved it and so did many, many others. I never post anything I don’t like first. You are not blog fodder. You are my inspiration. You’re what I think makes my life interesting. You’re what makes me feel 10 feet tall.
I write stuff like this over and over, and there’s two problems with it. The first is that you only see the bad in what I’ve written and not how much I must feel for you if I’m willing to say something like that.
Editor’s Note:
I forgot the second thing. It’s that she doesn’t tell me how she feels in return, so I don’t know how close I am to telling the truth. I just talk from what I’m experiencing, not a reality we’re creating together.
You’ve never given me enough credit for hanging in there, hoping we’d get healthy so that it could be a mutual admiration society again, but I’ve not gotten that respect back in the slightest, because you used to be incredibly loving with me, and then it all stopped, as if you thought if you told me you loved me or even anything close to it, like “I really enjoy you,” would make me think you’d been touched by an angel somehow and I’d finally get my wish to have you in bed. It’s only been 11 years since I stopped thinking about it, but I understand that perception is reality and it’s holding you back from a full-fledged relationship. When you hide all your bad feelings, you hide all your good feelings, too.
After a while, it seemed cruel, because the tone of your e-mails completely changed. You were always itching for a fight and I hated every minute of it, because it always seemed like you thought I was out to get you instead of talk about anything and everything. I killed you off on my blog again. Blowback from you just isn’t worth it. I’d rather pick someone else to be my inspiration than go through the gut-wrenching pain I feel when you hate something.
It’s not that you can’t tell me about it- I deserve to hear it. But at the same time, I am always sorry that I caused you pain just by letting mine out. And if we’d ever met in person, I wouldn’t have written about you so often because you wouldn’t have inspired me this way. Lines that repeat in my head ad nauseam in a good way.
I still carry a “love letter” I got from you in the pocket of my Kindle from 2015. I haven’t received anything like it since.
I am solid about the fact that you are my partner in a roundabout way because you are on my “murder board” of polyamory- that friends get equal time when they’re a big source of emotional support and those relationships are recognized when you’re scheduling so that your partner knows what connection you’ll be seeing. Nothing about our relationship is traditional, and yet it is because it feels eternal in a good way. That this connection cannot be broken if you went to my Spam, noticed, and reached out again. The reason I sent you to Spam was simply to stop thinking about you all the time. The reason I do it is because you used to be a tremendous source of my writing as a collaborator, because I used to build off of your ideas, whether they were good or bad.
I feel that it’s a new phase in our relationship, where I’m a lot stronger and harder to gaslight, and yes, I will use that word, because you even admit that you made me doubt my perceptions by keeping your feelings from me.
And still, you haven’t told me what they are.
When I told you how much it hurt that you accused me of being the only one who ever lays down ultimatums, you insisted that you were not shitty or snarky at all. Yet we’ve both been telling each other to fuck off on the regular because our dance of intimacy is so incredibly complex. You cannot get close to me without touching fire, nor I to you. I feel this is because I feel like I tell you everything and run on no information, then when I ask why you’re not being forthcoming, it’s “I don’t owe you anything” or “I’m not going to let you control me.” Classic avoidant moves to make sure that you don’t have to emote, keeping me emotionally starving.
I am allowed to be angry. So are you. But I only know my side of the story, the friend whose voice echoes in my rib cage, and speaks through my heart.
Show me that you don’t only respond when I’m angry, and then we might be able to compromise on something.
I do love you, I’m just better off without you if you cannot hear me and respond in kind.
Stories That Are All True 