I was just thinking about a conversation I had earlier today, and got to thinking about part of it that would have gone a different way if there was no such thing as diplomacy and if there was more honesty.
A friend of mine (ok it’s a friend of the opposite sex who I happen to love and I think she suspects as much but doesn’t reciprocate [I suspect] and doesn’t want to lose the friendship we have) asked if I was going to the gym tomorrow. I as much as said no because I don’t go when I’m off work. I’ve told her a few times (before) that I drink a lot when I’m not working and am in no condition to go to the gym the next day.
What I wish I could have told her is…
“I would not drink when I’m off if my days off could be spent with you”
Other things I wish I could say…
“I want to get a flat or house of my own. You need to get a new flat. How about we share one?”
I am sure there are those amongst you that have things on your mind that if human-human interaction were more straightforward than it is you would wish to say to those people who matter to you… So what are they?
At work today in the break room at lunch, some coworkers were talking about the evil atheists who are ruining the world by insisting that religion be removed from schools and workplaces.
Old friend, I wish you would stop concerning yourself about the clothes and accessories that I buy. We are not in competition with each other. Please be comfortable in buying and wearing whatever colors and styles and fabrics you like and wearing them whenever you like including around our mutual friends. We are too old for this. There is no need to get in a snit about what I paid for my Chrome Hearts glasses frames. You don’t own the rights to the color teal…I don’t own the rights to red cashmere sweaters…Know what I mean?
So you want to be free to lay a guilt trip on her? I suppose she would also be free to tell you to where to stick that guilt trip, though, and then maybe you’d get over her.
I mean, I feel for you, but that’s a crappy example you’ve given to wish you could “open up”.
I’ve never had a cross word to say to you, pal, but I’ve seen all your threads about your unrequited crush. Do you not think there’s a large chance she’s remaining unavailable to you because she doesn’t want to get emotionally attached to an alcoholic?
“Want to go to the gym?”
“No, it’s my day off. I’m going to stay home.”
“And do what?”
“Get shitfaced.”
I really, really don’t want to hear about what happened with your friend’s cousin’s roommate’s cat, or how your daughter’s coworker is suffering from the worst case of IBS, or a word-by-word recap of yesterday’s episode of Dr. Phil, or how sad it is that some obscure opera singer that I’ve never heard of died tragically in a gummy-bear accident. Honestly. I don’t care, I never will care, and I have enough shit of my own to think about without having to listen to four hours of “As the Entire Fucking World Turns”.
**You have hit the nail right on the head. ** I really, really don’t want to hear about my co-workers’ children’s eating habits, what clothes their children are going to wear tomorrow, what their doctor told them 7 years ago, what their ex-husband drinks, what their labor pains were like 19 years ago, etc, etc.
Dear MIL, I hate your cat. No, I don’t think it’s cute when he sits his dingleberry covered, furry ass on the dinner plates. Especially not on Thanksgiving.
I am very liberal. You know that. Please stop ruining every holiday and family function by telling me that my political beliefs are wrong. I don’t bring it up because I don’t want to fight with family on Thanksgiving and Christmas…please show me the same respect.
Dear Mom,
Here’s a pry bar, please remove yourself from your cross. The martyr role has grown old. We are all really tired of hearing the story about how you went without a winter coat just so us kids could have one. We’re grown weary of your self inflicted spineless history. Buy yourself a f*cking coat, Mom, and get over it.
And while I’m at it, please shut up and stop talking about my brother, my nephews, your dog and your shitty job. In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s the same thing. Over and Over. Do not complain when I don’t call you for three weeks, and when I do call, all you talk about are your Favorite Four Subjects (see above). It really wouldn’t kill you to ask about your OTHER grandchildren, or about me or my life. I deliberately didn’t bring up any of those things just to see if you would ask, and guess what? You didn’t even ask how I was doing, or anything.
My life choices are NOT a biting indictment of yours. I am entitled to be a more private person than you. Pointing this out to you, when you have overstepped my comfort zone, is not a put down of you. You leave me no choice but to speak up, by refusing to take a hint or hear what I say to you. Kindly grow up.
I get that I wasn’t really the one in this family that anybody expected to prosper. I understand that I was always the screw up. I am aware that you have been caught off guard by a reversal of fortunes in your own life. I realize now that you were content to feel superior to me, all those years, hey, I bought into it myself. I understand that it’s a little difficult for you to feel that way with circumstances as they currently stand and I get that you don’t like having to see things differently. I have prospered because I took the time to address my issues, I covered the required emotional ground to get to where I am today. .
I have created and maintain healthy and loving relationships, in large part, by keeping you, my siblings, at arms length from all of it. While I love you and am happy to be supportive of your struggles whatever form they may take. This is your crap. Be aware you will not be permitted to drag it into my life.
Mrs. Montoya, grow the fuck up or just leave, already. And take your “woe is me” bullshit with you. I’m sick of jumping when you push my pity-button and getting nothing but grief in return.
Your breath fucking REEKS. When we’re in the car, I roll down the windows because of the fumes coming out of your mouth. To quote E. Blackadder: “Your breath comes straight from satans bottom.” I know that you have bad dental care. I know you can’t afford good dental care. But use some goddam mouth wash on your last five teeth for our sake.
I haven’t seen or heard from you since my father – that would be your brother – died in July. What the hell? I know that you, Aunt, had a massive grudge against my father for having a very sucessful career and a loving family. In fact, I know that you resented him to the point that you swiped his inheritance after a certain family member’s death and took off for Disney World. I don’t know what your problem is, Uncle 1; you seemed to have become much friendlier toward us in recent years. But now, you can’t even be bothered to send my mother a birthday card, or even call to see how she’s doing. Hell, you never even called me after you found out I had to go to a cardiologist to see if I had the same condition that killed my father (I don’t). Would it have hurt either one of you to be proud of my father? He never flaunted anything, or acted like he was better than you. So what’s the deal? And why are you taking it out on my mother and me?
Uncle 2, you can go to hell. You showed up at our house prior to Dad’s funeral, and instead of offering comforting words you start looking over everything; in your words, “checking to see if there’s anything here that’s mine.” After spending that small amount of time with you, I understand why as a child my dad threw you off a slide and shot you repeatedly with an air rifle.
I was looking forward to this trip as much as you were. When you got so sick you didn’t think you could go, and when you started looking into renting a wheelchair so you could get around while we were gone, I thought that (just maybe) you might want to go another time. I wasn’t uninviting you, or telling you I didn’t want you go. If the tickets weren’t already bought, paid for, and non-refundable, and if your granddaughter hadn’t been looking forward to this for months, I would be staying home, too. There was no excuse for you to tell me to just go without you. There was no reason to basically hang up on me. There was certainly no need for the email you sent me today saying that, although you aren’t mad (you shouldn’t be!), you just don’t want to go anymore. You’re hurting my feelings on purpose when all I was trying to do was look out for you, and I am tired of you treating me like this.
