Kaleidoscope (Part 2)

I want to precursor starting this off by saying that there is a certain amount of discomfort in these “Kaleidoscope” posts.   The discomfort goes beyond what one would think considering exposing wounds and vulnerability and falls within the realm of casting blame and throwing stones.    I don’t like it.

I know this “Kaleidoscope” series that I have begun are things you need to hear from me, but I can’t cast all the blame on your shoulders.  Your grief and depression was a separate entity that I view as something apart from you, even if my emotions can’t fully separate it from you.  Aside from that, I feel that the burden of guilt should rest not just with you, but with me as well, and how I handled things.


A Lack of Support

There were times I felt that I was slipping and sliding down a rocky slope, my fingers curled and nails digging in, scraping over the rocks.   You weren’t there, too wrapped up in your own thoughts and emotions, too distracted by your own grievances to notice I was struggling.

This, in itself, wouldn’t have been a problem if I hadn’t come, over time, to depend on you noticing.  I had come to depend upon your observations, your obsessive watchfulness and attention to detail.  I had come to depend on how well  you knew me, and upon your quick step and strong reach that would come down over the edge of the cliff and grab hold before I could slide too far down the rocky face.

Without you there to do this, I had to find another way and I fell back upon the old tried and true habits of closing myself off whenever I struggled so that no one would be able to see I was struggling.

Closing myself off after having discovered the freedom your protection granted me created an ache of loss, and the harsh burn of resentment to fester inside.

One thought on “Kaleidoscope (Part 2)

  1. As this is going to be my second attempt at a reply(thanks to a site error maybe due to the length of my first post), I’m going to try and shorten it a bit this time around. And we know the second version is never as good as the first….

    I know this is hard for you, love. Because you are digging into emotions you tucked deeply away, because recalling it hurts you,because hearing it hurts me…or simply because of that blame you don’t want to cast my way. But we need this, babe. I need to be accountable for all the pain that I’ve caused you. I need to know what I put you through, what I’m still putting you through so that I can begin to make my way through this maze of walls you’ve put up to protect yourself…from me.

    You may not want to cast blame, but I accept it. I own it. Every moment of your pain rips my heart out, tears my soul to shreds And is my fault…no matter if it was my choice for this to happen, it’s still a guilt that I should rightly claim and a punishment that is my due for the pain you’ve suffered because of me.

    And let’s be honest, man, we both know I’m not going to sit here and allow you to accept blame. You were hurt…of course you were hurt, I was supposed to be here. I was supposed to be paying attention and reaching out for you, catching you when you stumbled and instead I was heaping more on your plate. That I didn’t MEAN to doesn’t change it, man. It’s still mine to hold, the guilt, the blame.

    I’m here now. I’m all in…how do you know this? How can you trust it? Because I’m here and I’m FIGHTING for you, man. I’m here and accepting blame and accountability for not being here for you, for not SEEING you when I was in the dark. I’m here to take back what’s mine and I’m not accepting anything less than you being all mine in ALL ways again. I can’t, man. I can’t accept less than all of you. That’s how you know I’m better, that’s how you know it’s going to be okay…because I’m right here..fighting for you. Demanding the weight of the guilt, of your pain…it’s mine. Even when it’s painful, it’s mine. You are mine.

    So keep going, love. Keep writing, keep digging for those emotions…help me navigate this maze of walls that protect you so that I can heal not just you, but US.

    I love you babyboy. We’re going to make this right. I’m going to make this right.


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