Weight, Lifted

You know how ambiguity drives me crazy, right?

I mean, y’all have known me for some time now and you know I’m moody, quirky, weird and sometimes just plain batshit crazy. You know that I hate being late, that I abhor poor grammar and that I CAN’T STAND AMBIGUITY.

Being the control freak that I am, I feel the need to know exactly where I stand with anyone at any given moment. When such standing is ‘up for grabs’, I start getting twitchy. It’s led me to make some rash decisions in my day, in an effort to establish a toehold SOMEWHERE, even if it’s not in the right place.

My point? Thanks for asking!

In the recent past, I made a habit of waiting for the person in question to establish our boundaries. But every so often I’d grab my big-girl knickers and make that decision myself- usually after I’ve been pushed just once step too far.

And it seems that moment has arrived.

Part of me feels as though I owe the person in question an explanation, but then again, I feel as though he’s had ample opportunity to step up to the plate.

Let me ask you, Wise Readers…

You’re depressed. You’ve been down in the dumps and you need a little extra sumthin’ sumthin’ to make you feel…whole. Maybe it’s a hug, maybe it’s just some sweet words to remind you that you’re OK. You express this need in clear, concise terms to someone who professes to care very much about you, and the response is, “Just be happy that I drove for three hours to see you. Isn’t that enough?”

…

So? Am I crazy? Selfish? Overreacting?

Be honest.

I’ve always held a firm belief that people can’t fix something if they don’t know it’s broken. I also believe that mind-reading is best left to flim-flam artists, hence my steadfast edict of TELLING PEOPLE WHAT I WANT/ NEED and not setting them up to fail.

So I explained what was broken and what was required to fix it.

And I got a royal pile of cop-out bullshit in response.

So, as the kids used to say, “Bye, Felicia”.

Interestingly enough, once the decision to walk away was made and subsequently carried out, I actually felt BETTER, not worse.

That tells me something, namely that I need to learn to trust my gut more often.

The only remaining question is: How do I tell the difference between ‘instinct’ and ‘indigestion’ 🧐?