I think that every relationship I have had with someone is a just a stepping stone for them to either fall in love with someone else or get engaged. Like my occupation in their life is a prelude to their self-satisfaction and relational well-being. I am a sort of bookmark while they get things together, and when it is over they're ready for the next step, the next big chapter of their lives.
Maybe I am just unwilling to grow up. Maybe this is my fault. Maybe if I made efforts to be more progressive in my relationships they wouldn't have ended. Maybe I have had too many "maybes" and not enough definite responses to advances in relational technology.
It is all very silly, I suppose. The only person I can honestly blame is myself. It is the only perspective I have, right now. And the only viewpoint I can knowingly critique.
So I will go do laundry at my sister's, today. And I will get up in the morning and go about my day as I normally would. But I will keep this with me. And I would just like to reserve this one, tiny moment for a little bit of wallowing. And to say that you never really blame yourself lest you be left to your own devices.
And I am. And I am.
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