No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
Was || Will Be || Past Moments || Now || Notes

2002-01-11 - 11:35 a.m.

On relationships and the sharing of Pain.

So I had a revelation last night about what kind of relationships RockGirl has been in before. From my perspective, they can't have been very good ones.

See, she doesn't expect that anyone would want to share in her pain. She doesn't think that the people who care about her should try to shoulder some of the burden when things are bad for her.

I don't understand this.

My sisters and I have a relationship where they not only expect me to share with them when things are bad, but they would be hurt if I didn't. And it works the other way, too. My whole family is like this. This is second nature for me. Part of caring about someone is supporting them. That's the point. Relationships aren't all about the good times. It's easy in the good times. The test of a relationship is the bad times, when someone is hurting. In a way, that's the heart of the matter.

I was telling her that not all of my friends will share their disasters with me. Some of them just don't feel comfortable opening up that way. Which is cool. But the people I'm closest to are the ones where we've bared our souls to each other at least some. My best friends are most often the ones who've come to me when they're hurting.

She said to me "you make it sound like a gift".

I think it is.

Close relationships come out of knowing someone well, out of breaking down walls and getting closer to the core of a person. I know of few things that can accomplish that better than pain.

She's afraid that I won't be able to deal. She has convinced herself that her pain is too gargantuan for anyone else to be able to survive it. She's so very about control. Sometimes when she's lying next to me, I can feel the tension in her. She's wound herself so tight.

Her face is different when she's sleeping. I don't know how to describe the difference, but it's huge.

Who in the world taught her that she had to do it all? What kind of family did she come from? Where nobody helped each other? What the fuck is up with that?

Something changed between us last night. I still sometimes feel like I'm in the front seat of a roller coaster, all quick turns and out of control and going way too fast. Last night I felt differently. I keep telling her that I feel like I hardly know her. She usually laughs it off, and tells me I have no idea what I got myself into.

I think last night I may have convinced her that it's okay to let me get to know her.

I hope so.

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