back to Weekly Archives
“Mind you own business!”
But you’re my business, you matter to me, it causes me searing pain to see you self-destruct.
“Leave me alone. Don’t lecture me! It’s my life not yours.”
Not my life? But you’re my life.
“Get over it.”
Just like that, huh. You can dismiss me with ease so I’m supposed to be able to do the same with you.
“I don’t want you worrying about me. I didn’t ask you to.”
Then don’t do the things we both know are self-destructive! You think I want to worry about you? I’d rather be happy for you. Your success is my success. You tell me not to worry and then you do the things that create worry in me.
“I can take care of myself. I didn’t ask you to butt into my life or worry about me.”
You didn't what? You made me believe that I mattered to you as you matter to me. You made me love you; and you made yourself critically important in my life so that your happiness is mine and I thought mine was yours.
“Maybe, but my choices are my own and nobody’s business but my own.”
If you insist on ducking out on life there’s nothing I can do to stop you; but somebody needs to tell you plainly that you’re talking drivel. Your choices are yours, sure, but you’re making choices for me too and the idea that your choice of the abyss is nobody’s business but yours is pathetic. You allowed yourself to become important to people—no, not just “allowed” it, you worked at it like a beaver and now you’re all tangled up in their heartstrings. Every move you make affects them. You aren’t just choosing misery and ruin for yourself, you choose misery for others and then you have the nerve to tell them to butt out and don’t lecture you.
“Look, I want you to leave me alone! Got that? Leave me alone!”
Well, I’ll have to since that’s what you want. I’ll be around if you want help so you’ll know where to find me. But when you’re alone and gnawing on your bones and whimpering to yourself that you’re a tragic figure bearing an intolerable burden just remember what I told you.
You’re bringing the roof down on others as well so don’t kid yourself that you’re a member of some exclusive “fellowship of the doomed”. When you’re wallowing around, so out of it that you’re oblivious to what you’re up to, there are people like me who watch in pain-filled horror at what’s happening to you.
You want me to leave you alone? In some ways that's way too late. If you had wanted me to really leave you alone you shouldn’t have come into my life and made me love you. Vanish without trace if you must--and I tremble at even saying that because the very thought of it is horrifying—but for pity's sake stop talking nonsense!
You're breaking my heart!