Most Thought Catalog posts inspire strong emotion in me. This one though, does that in a ‘I wish I’d never met you. I wish I’d never met you.’ way.
For the better part of my life, I’ve been intrigued by people who aren’t like me. That is to say, people who don’t appear to be so overwhelmed with emotion that they have to spill it out, in tears, in words or at very least in affection, as unwanted as that might be. People with dignity. People with polish. People who’re measured and guarded. People who define cool.
I’ve now come to the long-delayed conclusion that I was wrong. They aren’t better than I am. This article appears to make an argument for just that kind of person. From having spent a tedious, fruitless, agonizing, hateful two years with exactly this kind of person, I’ve decided I’ve had enough.
I’ve decided that I have no more sympathy for people who want to call themselves ‘guarded’ and excuse themselves from being loving. You don’t get to excuse yourself from the love table if you’re still partaking of its delights. You give as you take. But not for these people. Enough, I say with the self-absorbed bullshit of the so-called introverts.
Everybody hurts, you know that? Bad experiences make every single of us cringe and cower in fear. You do not have sole rights to that place, we’ve all been there. But some of us have made it out. You didn’t and that does not make you superior; it bloody makes you a weakling. I might be compassionate towards one less priveleged or weaker than I am. But you wear away all of that since you expect compassion and effort from everyone else as a fundamental birthright. You’re a coward, you are. If I face you down and ask you to hit me with your best shot, what are you going to use? Indifference? The superficiality of ‘That’s not cool.’? The weak last-resort of condescension and sarcasm? No, you miserable bit of nothingness, you run. That’s what you do. You run because you’re bloody scared of life, of all that it represents and all the possible hurt it could inflict on you. And so you fear people who don’t seem to fear it that way.
Enough, assholes. Get on your feet and start living. Start feeling, jump into the painful, scary, unpredictable adventure called life. Stop sitting by the sidelines and telling me I’m beneath you because I’m doing so. I’m knocking you off your bloody pedestals.