cutting people off??
(I call these rambles “thought-essays”, this is one of ‘em)*
Cutting people off is an interesting process. I sound like a serial killer or a sociopath but I mean the way we people dooo, from out of their lives? Not necessarily ghosting, just… that way you just stop having any sort of relationship with the person. But you still interact within the same space, like, you still go to the same school or work at the same place and follow one another and all that.
When you ghost someone you block them, they ain’t coming back any time soon. Cutting people off sounds so much more permanent — and yet it bothers me much more cause it kinda only happens with people at least a little bit close to you, right? Sometimes very close. And something can happen, something big, like an argument, une revelación, something like that, and you cut them off — but when it’s gradual?
When it’s gradual and you give up on it little by little? That. Shiiiit. Huuuuuuuuuuuurts. Doesn’t it? I mean it hurts me when I realize it happens. Cause I have no problem doing it, I know I’m able to, I am way too proud for my own good and I’m aware of that. It’s stupid, it’s a stupid thing to deem as a trait of my personality, and yet here we are. I am someone who makes little to no effort when a relationship deteriorates.
I don’t mean a romantic relationship, that’s another topic, I mean friendships. I’ll realize I’m losing the person and I’ll just sort of feel like… either like I deserve it or like it was gonna happen sooner or later anyway. And of course I don’t have a mental list of the people that has happened with, but you get what I’m saying, there’s always someone you think about one day while doing the dishes, out of the blue and go “ah, right”. I think most people have that sort of thing.
Isn’t that such a weird thing to share, all of us? We have all been cut off from someone’s lives at some point? Aaand have cut people off, knowingly or not. That’s what gets me really. I don’t resent anyone in particular for it, because people drift apart and change and it’s fine. People grow and evolve and all that and it’s nice as a whole. It’s only natural that not everyone we know and love at a certain point will remain the same people we know and love further on, I think that’s common knowledge. Uncomfortable, but common knowledge.
But that time in between the dishwashing and the period of time you know and love those people? It’s like there’s a palpable piece missing more often than not. It’s such a silently hurtful evolution of a thing, to realize you’re no longer a significant part of someone else’s life — again, not romantic but sure.
I guess everyone who’s been through a traumatic event or period of time or just anyone who’s traumatized has wondered if there’s anything wrong with them when these things happen. Even if you’re the person cutting them off, or just when you don’t really know how it happens but know it’s mutual, or not entirely their doing. I’d blame myself most of the times, all of the times, really. I assume I give up too easily, I said that a minute ago. I constantly, and consistently assume that I am not someone who adds anything to people’s lives. Which, now that I read that, sounds awfully dramatic and is also something I am only realizing now that I’m writing it, but it doesn’t make it any less trueeee! I don’t think I’m even close to valuing myself enough to the point where, whenever someone cuts me off, I feel like that’s unfair for me. Currently, I just feel like it’s the natural step for them to take.
Which is really weird cause I thought I now valued myself and all that. Apparently not a universal thing that just clicks one day. And I guess it’ll be some time before that happens, let alone before I fight to keep someone in my life a little while longer, maybe tell them how much they mean to me, actually say (or probably write) how they make life better before I/you get to that part where you no longer know this person, and maybe you don’t even love them anymore.
It depends. Some people get out of your life and you somehow still love them and get the feeling you always will. And that’s fine, love is supposed to be a good thing. And then some people you can sense the love you had for them going away. Because of all the cloudy shit that gets in the way.
Because people don’t talk as much as they should. Or as much as they could. Not about what matters, not about what they feel. Not about how they were hurt the other day over this and not about how much they appreciated that call the other day. It’s uncomfortable for… Imma safely assume most of us… to say those kinds of things. To say hey I know we aren’t like we were before and I can’t really pinpoint when or why that happened and a) that’s alright or b) I’d love for us to try to have a decent relationship again.
We don’t doooo that! Who taught us to do that, no oneeee! How do you even do that?? You don’t. You let it get in the way and maybe talk it out to someone else, to yourself in the mirror, to a page or this — which is what I’m doing — but you don’t go to them.
Because let’s be frank it’s intimidating. It’s borderline-terrifying to goooo and expose yourself like that. It’s hard enough to identify and acknowledge and gather all your thoughts and feelings about these things, let alone express them. And some people are great at that, some people will just come up to you and say what they feel, pour their souls out, and I admire that so much. For real I do. Because I’m here writing this instead of reaching out to people I miss — wow that makes it seem like there’s someone specific, huh — and therefore very much scared to just go and talk things out. Somehow. For some reason.
I could easily do a whole thing about the goooo to people, reach out, now!!! before it’s too late, you hear me??? — and do that, sure I guess — but it really just struck me as something worth writing about. The cutting-people-off phenomenon we can call it.
