Behind the Screen (SoCS)

the-screen

A screen,
Like a veil
To rest behind.
A partition that allowed
Thoughts to fly,
Or swim
And be transferred
To paper,
To words,
To a canvas,
To art.

A screen
A veil between
The artist and the world
To be pulled back at completion
Of the work.

A screen in his mind
That kept other people out
And kept him safe.
Or was it simply keeping him solitary?

If no one is allowed
Behind the screen
Then no one really knows who he is.
He can be someone different
For every face he meets.

But he also will never find
the place where he belongs.
The arms he longs for
Will never hold him tight
Because they won’t know him
Fully.

He met someone, once
Who saw him,
Who saw through the screen
Easily, on first glance.

It terrified him.
He wove the screen tighter
And tighter,
And made up stories
that kept him safe
So he thought.

She could see through it still.
Always.
Knowing his terror
She left him alone.

Hoping one day
He’d come out
From behind the screen
And embrace himself

Like the artist
Showing his completed work,
Risking vulnerability,
She hoped he too
Would risk letting himself be seen
Fully
Speaking the truth
To everyone
About who he is
What he wants,
What he believes.

Instead of hiding behind the screen
And morphing into someone different
For everyone he meets.

Screens have their place.
They keep the bugs out.
They conceal what we are not ready
To share with the world.

Just, don’t live there,
Behind the screen.

socs-2016-badge

The prompt for this weeks SoCS (Stream of Consciousness Saturday) was “screen”.   This is hosted by Linda G. Hill.  For more information on this prompt please go to her website, https://lindaghill.com/2016/10/14/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-oct-1516/

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Living Through Fear

Ok, I had a quasi-relationship with someone for a few months. It wasn’t a love relationship, and it wasn’t really a friendship. It was something else, a connection, really undefineable. It started out as one thing, then ran into a wall, morphed into something else, and then, finally, kind of blew up in a fit of ego vs. truth. It was weird.

But dang, it’s just come to me how strange it can be to see all evidence of that person’s involvement in your life disappear. Comments, “likes” on posts, pictures, texts, emails, all kinds of interactions just disappear. Now…I didn’t really do much of that. I don’t really care that much whether or not I have an interaction with this person, but he has made it a point to make sure there is no sign of me.

Blocked my phone, my email, unfriended me, unliked my FB page. Whatever. I dislike doing that stuff, if a person isn’t bothering me, I just don’t do it. It’s part of my life, why try and delete it?

Well,I suppose that if a person’s MO is to run. To hide. To retreat. To bring the walls around him in, so that no one else can get in, it seems like a good idea. He might almost be able to convince himself that I never existed in his life, that I never taught him anything, that he gained nothing from it, and that all the stuff he projected onto me, all the kindnesses I extended to a seriously messed up person, were actually done with an ulterior motive to get something from him. Even tho I have more that he has, and not just material things. I have a life that I love, a job that I like, a beautiful home, a great kid, a loving family, a warm loving circle of friends. He has a sad story, and that’s about it. He can’t drive, having lost his license for 5 years. He has a home, which is paid for lucky for him. He can’t work, because he can’t drive, he has a few friends, a function of having grown up in the town he lives in. But nothing that would be a motive for me to do kind things in the hope of getting some of it.

Fear. I gotta say, fear. I have known two men who make every decision in their lives based on fear. Never on love. I gotta feel for both of them. So, while he decides that the reason I took him to an art museum was because I wanted something from him, undefined, I really just have to feel sorry for him, that he is unable to accept human kindness, and that usually comes from a place of not believing he deserves it.  He thinks it’s his gut talking.  But any time we come from a place of fear, you know it’s the ego.  My ex also didn’t believe he deserved it. He also believed every kindness was a manipulation.  He also lives his life from that place of fear, from his ego.

Whatever. If deleting, and running, and pretending that I was never there helps him get through the day, so be it. He won’t see a sign of me. But…I gotta wonder how he’s gonna delete the memories of the truth from his mind. Because you know….That shit that you bury, doesn’t die. It just festers, and rots and makes you sick. So much easier to view the world through the eyes of love, isn’t it?

He is an artist, he paints.  He had given me a painting, on the first night we met.  I loved it.  I had pointed it out as my favorite of the dozens of paintings in his house. Yesterday, I sent it back to him.  I could not have it hanging on my walls, much as I liked it, to remind me of all the accusations he lay on me because he just couldn’t accept kindness as kindness.  Bad energy, even from something beautiful. Because he had to project onto me all the fearful thoughts he has about himself.  I put a note with it, telling him I hope he finds someone to give it to that he can trust enough to accept their kindness.

I am not angry with him.  And, I am out of his life, at least as far as anyone can see.  The electronics age is so easy, put the button and delete.  Now, if he can just find a way to delete the memories, the truth that is embedded in them, he’ll be ok……