I used to be afraid of moving on. My loyal mind thought that being able to turn the page meant I hadn’t really loved, hadn’t really cared, hadn’t really felt. In love and in friendship, I rarely give up on people.
When I move on, if I move on, I do it out of disinterest, never out of dislike or hate- I’m too stubborn in my love to let hate get in the way. When I move on, it’s simply because I’ve stopped caring; I don’t answer your calls, I delay replying to your messages, and even out of politeness, I cannot get myself to muster any form of enthusiasm for your person, good or bad; our ties are severed and there is nothing you can do or say to weave them back together. All my usual attention to details, my concern for your well-being… Well, they are things that have suddenly disappeared. It’s not out of maliciousness or retribution. People have mistakenly thought hate was the opposite of love. They were wrong; it is complete and utter indifference.
Within my life, very few people have managed to past the “no-care zone”, to pass that threshold (thankfully), but when they have, it was a point of no-return, they never made it back into my life. Mr. Darcy in Pride & Prejudice words it rather eloquently as “My good opinion once lost is lost forever”. The heart of the matter can be explained as such: once you learn something, you can’t unlearn it. It’s like that ‘magic eye’ analogy made by the main character in the T.V. show Emily Owens MD (way to go full spectrum on the references);
“It’s ’cause I have the magic eye now. It’s the books. I used to read them as a kid, you know? You’d stare at that picture for a long time, and at first it would just seem so random, this crazy pattern, and then all of a sudden you’d see a teapot or something, and then once you saw that, every time you looked at it, it was just so obviously a teapot, it’s a teapot”.
I see the freaking teapot.
To tell you the truth, it’s not necessarily so bad. There usually is a very good reason for that.
My tolerance is high. Like a soldier in an army, I leave no men behind. Like a captain of a sinking ship, I hold on to the wheel and I brace myself. It’s not exactly a quality. It’s stupid, really. My natural tendency is to see the good side of everyone and to find redeeming qualities, but I’ve realized that even when you give people the benefit of the doubt, you can’t make excuses for them. Some don’t want you to.
Now, I’m starting to understand that having a high tolerance for bad behaviour isn’t actually a good thing; it means I take on crap I don’t deserve. ‘Worse is, I keep coming back. With time, I’ve realized that having a high threshold for pain is not necessarily something to be proud of. There is something to be said about enforcing your boundaries, about knowing these boundaries, about safeguarding your heart.
And there is something very healthy in saying ‘when’.
Image Source: http://undersky1.deviantart.com/art/Nastia-was-pouring-tea-287080776