I wish I knew what people expected of me. As a kid, mom and dad had certain expectations of my behaviour. When I'm in school, instructors have certain expectations of me. When I'm out and about, society has certain expectations of me.
But I don't know what people expect of me - of Ms D- as a friend, as a daughter, as a girlfriend. I just don't know.
A fellow at work said that he and J had talked about 2 mos ago - around the time we had broken up - he and his girlfriend were having momentary problems. He had just said that he and J had talked about a few things. Apparently J was discussing his expectations.
I never knew what they were. I knew what he expected out a girlfriend in general. Except I wasn't in general. I was pretty darn specific. And apparently I didn't get it. And that bugs me. It hurts, actually. But I was never good at guessing games, or, apparently, not-so-subtle hints.
Even now, when I stop for a moment, I have to think about my expectations of people. They're not all that easy to nail down. But I know that I expect you to be honest. I want you to deal with me in a way that's direct, but gentle. Don't yell because I clam up. Yell at the situation, break a coffee cup, but don't yell directly at me. When everything is said and done, if it was my fault and I've apologized, give me a hug and tell me you love me. If I were in your position, I would do that for you. If I'm not spending enough time with you, let me know - don't make it about me, because I'm the Queen of Business, but make it about you. I have a terrible habit of thinking that someone doesn't want me around all the time. Apparently I've not been particularly secure in past relationships. I have a hard time getting things out that I need to say. That's why I write. If I write you a note, it's because I love you enough to let you know that I'm struggling and want you to know what's really on my brain. I'm not avoiding the issue - I just want to make sure that I get to the heart of the issue. I expect you not to take cheap shots because they wound deep and rarely ever heal.
When I get frustrated, I go quiet. I used to tell J "don't worry about it - when I'm upset, I go away and deal with it". Guess what? I don't. I go away and forget about it. And then something happens - usually small and insignificant - and it brings it out. I've learned a lot in the last three months. Most specifically: this method that I have held as tried and true, doesn't work. J - I'm sorry that you were the ginny pig on that lesson. Funny how that goes, eh?
Like I said, I'm glad to be stripped away.
"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on."