“You cry lonely
And I come runnin’
I come to your rescue
I chase your blues away”
-Cross Canadian Ragweed, ‘You Cry Lonely’
So, if you are drawn to the broken, just how broken are you? That’s what’s been rattling around for months. Years, maybe. It’s not like I don’t know the dangers to your own sense of self when allowed to fall into their worlds and rhythms. And it happened, again, to the surprise of no one, least of all me. But powerful are the glimpses into someone’s soul and it’s kind of like that glowing suitcase in Pulp Fiction; it’s all-encompassing and beautiful and addictive and the answer, so you think, to what makes you happy.
“You cry lonely
But you don’t really want me
And I won’t be there one of these days”
But as a very close friend said to me, “we have to stop making our happiness an outside job; it’s foolish to let someone tell you what you’re worth and how you feel….and she doesn’t deserve that power.” Once given a glimpse, a moment in their sun, we crave that love and attention and we’ll do whatever we can for them, at the cost of our own self-respect and sense of well-being. A smile, a phone call, a stupid meme, all hoping to keep that connection strong, but in the end we know that we’re being used to an extent. They’re hurting and we want to absorb that hurt and ease their troubles, because we believe deep down that they really are worth it, worth the long absence, worth the long distance.
“You always say your heart is breakin’
Then you hear the wolf outside your door
I know you, you just use me
Till you don’t need me anymore”
And then it feels like any connection is love, as you are pushed away to arm’s length, yet again. The other person only doles out minimal amounts of reciprocity, enough to keep you engaged, hooks sunk so that when they’re back to lonely you’ll be there, again, to be their lifeline. “You’re so nice to me, too nice, that’s why I fucked it all up”…..and you somehow believe being kind to them is now a wrong, a weakness, that if only you were a little more asshole, they’d actually WANT you. They want the bad-boy, the one who abuses THEIR sense of self and worth. Such a vicious-cycle. And the broken in us just cracks a little further.
“Someday when you know you really love me
You’re gonna cry my name
And I’ll be gone”
I guess there’s always hope that at some point, we’ll make the kind of difference that allows them to see themselves as WE see them…..beautiful, flawed, broken and wonderful creatures. I think they deserve that kind of grace, just as we all do, a respite from the hurt and a release from the cycle of love and pain. But I can only own my own shit, and I need to release the rest, softly.
Here’s hoping I can. And here’s hoping you can, too.
to listen to “You Cry Lonely” by Cross Canadian Ragweed