Shake the Dust

When is it time to be done with someone? There's a book out there called Necessary Endings that I need to read, but I haven't. I hate giving up. Hate it. When I commit, I commit hard. It's even difficult for me to quit a book until my eyes have passed over every word. Even if it's stupid. Re-reading through a journal the other day, my twenty year old words said, "I think I'm a hoarder of people." Whoops. Still true. I have a tendency to hang on and not let go, way beyond the point of self-harm.


The thing is, I don't ever want someone to think that they're unloveable. I've thought that about myself before, and it was the worst, most painful message of my life. So if there's anything I can do to prevent that sad, sad lie from settling into someone else's heart, I want to do it.


What I forget is that your heart is not my jurisdiction. I can send my best, most favorite loving messages from my territory, but whether or not they penetrate your heart is not up to me. When continuing to lodge an attack deteriorates my hope and joy, I begin operating out of a deficit, losing strength by the moment until all I have left is despair and bitterness. That's the time. Time to stop. Time to refill. Time to rest.

Unsplash photo cred: Markus Spiske

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