Only if I knew what I know now.

Tears had dried up. We stared at each other with hollow eyes. It was hard to believe how far we came, yet how little we knew.
Perhaps it was the last attempt of pleading. I said something that I did not know was there…
Me: You’ve never shown any weakness. How could I connect? *voice hoarse*
He: I thought I had to be strong for you. I thought I had to show only the positives so you can rely on me. *confused*
Me: But how could I be vulnerable if you couldn’t? That’s why I’ve been feeling a disconnect for all these years. *begged*
He: I’ve never felt the disconnect. I wish it wasn’t too late…
Photo by Wladislaw Peljuchno on Unsplash
Still today, the conversation haunted me.
The definition of independence in a relationship was redefined instantly.
It was not how to live on your own, but to merge two lives and still retain the essence of who we are.

I dislike myself when I stand in the shadow of the past. Unable to focus on the now, I feel disoriented and distracted.
Recounting the memories, I was snapped back to the present…
He: Tell me, what are you thinking? *voice soft*
Me: I don’t know… but remember that time when I was carrying a bag with me and my camera? I said to him, ” It’s okay, it’s my own responsibility that I brought the camera with me on the trip, I will carry all my things.”
He: Yes, I remember.
Me: Actually, I wanted him to care. I was hoping that he would initiate, but I knew that he would be annoyed, or say something like, “I told you not to bring these things. Now, you want someone else to carry them for you.” *embarrassed*
He: Hmm… maybe you both had pride. Too much pride to admit your weaknesses. *gently*
Photo by Eneko Uruñuela on Unsplash
Often times, we learn to mirror each other in a relationship.
So the cycle does not end.
Is pride a mechanism for self-protection or a weapon?