Dear Francis…or just Francis,<\/p>\n
I hesitate to even address you affectionately. A greeting. The other day as we departed, I wanted to walk away. I wanted not to hug you. But I felt trapped. And suddenly the words were stolen from me. I just wanted to say, \\”I don\\’t want to hug you.\\”<\/p>\n
But instead, I could see the moment coming. The moment that you put your bike to the wall and you reached out. And so I relented and I allowed you to hug me. It felt insincere.<\/p>\n
I am angry at many things. But is the core really about you rejecting me…last December?<\/p>\n
For one thing, I am angry how so many things that I say…you try to diminish it. You think that I have no right to feel the way I feel. That I shouldn\\’t be angry about being invited to the bacheleorette party but not the wedding. You always immediately try to rationalize myself, making think that you haven\\’t heard me at all. That I say that I felt uncomfortable in Germany. And immediately you say…well maybe you\\’re thinking wrong, maybe you are wrong.<\/p>\n
I am angry that you called me childlike without warrant. Dismissing so much that I am with a single sentence. As if you\\’re afraid that I don\\’t like the food. And it\\’s true.<\/p>\n
You\\’re telling me that I am not listening, but really you\\’re not even listening to me. I have to tell you why I am hurt and why it bothers me. Does it always have to be like that?<\/p>\n
I hate how you\\’re wishy washy. I hate how you follow my thoughts with YOUR thoughts. Does it ever occur to you that sometimes…sometimes I just want you to show that you\\’re listening. Instead of sharing your opinion? This isn\\’t a design critique. This is me sharing my life with you. And every single time, I feel like you\\’re tearing apart, crtiquing it. And as a result, I am hurt, because I listen. I deathly listen letting it affect me.<\/p>\n
They say: stop caring what he thinks. But I don\\’t do that.<\/p>\n
And all I can think about is how I want to stand at your door. Request for my DVDs. Ask for the photo back because you obviously don\\’t remember where I took it and the meaning behind it is lost on you. I want to ask for so many moments that you stole from me. All the times that I deserved to feel good about myself and then you crumpled it up so that I am the pained little girl who is afraid of people.<\/p>\n
I hate how you treated me…and then Chris as third wheel. Keep your private conversations out of public. That was rude and inconsiderate. I don\\’t do it, so don\\’t do it. Don\\’t feel like you have to cater to everyone. They will deal.<\/p>\n
You are so horrible at changing subjects, because maybe there\\’s nothing to talk about. Because our conversations are always about how work is so dreadful and how stuck you are. What beauty, what curiosity. I don\\’t like it.<\/p>\n
I try so often to think about the last time I felt good with you. You said once that it was every single time, when I pressed you. I think of the few times that I had something in common. They are so far in between. I am always constantly afraid, afraid. I think of the film…and how it was often beyond me. I think about the times that I nearly fell asleep (but already did). Then how you make quick judgements. And how I hate hate it. I hate the way we ride…maybe you do wait, but then I remember the ride from Olema back to Stinson Beach and I was so angry that I dragged behind. So behind. All I wanted to do is fall over and not be found. How easy would it be, I kept wondering, to disappear on that stretch of Highway 1?<\/p>\n
I am still so angry. So sad and so upset. Because of that time in July, I was so set to end everything. But then I couldn\\’t because…the moment that I started walking away, I noticed tears forming in your eyes. And that struck a chord. It was a moment of empathy and I could feel the feelings rush out.<\/p>\n
Every day, I think about it doing again, but I am worried. I am worried that I\\’ll falter again and it won\\’t be absolute. And I\\’ll spend days, weeks, months weeping, unsure why.<\/p>\n
I hate that moment that we had on the way to Oakland, \\”I thought that I could have a nice time with Jenn and this happened.\\”<\/p>\n
Initially, it calmed me down, but then I thought back to it, you were telling me that I wasn\\’t allowed to feel the way I am. <\/p>\n
So now I am angry again. Maybe I don\\’t want to talk to you for awhile. Maybe never. I don\\’t know. Whatever the case, I am tired of the tears falling, because they give me headaches and suck all my focus away.<\/p>\n
Jenn<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Dear Francis…or just Francis, I hesitate to even address you affectionately. A greeting. The other day as we departed, I wanted to walk away. I wanted not to hug you. But I felt trapped. And suddenly the words were stolen from me. I just wanted to say, \\”I don\\’t want to hug you.\\” But instead, … Continue reading For you, Francis<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-537","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-general"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/537","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=537"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/537\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=537"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=537"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=537"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}