The hurt pathway

When we became friends, it was not because we liked the same bands, or the same style of being, clothing, people or politics, or the same hatred for our upbringing, parents and school, although we truly believed we did.

We became friends because we recognized, even if unconsciously, the same wounds. We recognized the same avoidance of our wounding. We recognized the same behaviour towards our ignoring of our hurts. The same patterns in denying and running away.

-That- is what connected us.

And now we disconnect because we differ in that behaviour towards our wounds.

Some of us changed their behaviour towards our wallowing, and therefor we no longer connect as well as we used to. We cannot even hear each other anymore, while speaking in the same room.

Some of us take our wounds head on, even if tentatively. While some of us keep within the hurt and victimization, tell each other and ourselves, silently or out loud, there is nothing to do, it is all in vain, we are not strong enough. While some of us try, slowly or faster, alone or with help, studying and experimenting, to dive within and without. To seek patterns and reasons, while seeking comfort within and from others.

Looking in the mirror of self, and seeing the no(t)-self reflected back, through relations and partners, friends and lovers, neighbours and strangers, and naked navel-staring, seeking to find the truth within the belly, seeking to pull it out towards the forefront. While openly hurting and honoring.

We did not disconnect because our politics, clothing, musical preferences changed, even if they somehow might have, we disconnect because our paths and patterns now differ, because none of us can cope with the others path, for various reasons. No need to even, cause we all have our own. However loud all our judgement shout out about the differences in strategy, point of attack, introverted mumblings and other vain/ego nonsense we all project upon the other, to be able to discriminate between us, and discern where and why we choose differently.

I’m on my own

with all who are doing the same, in the illusion of separate togetherness.