Feedback

It is the day to let it all out.

Another day, another trip to hospital. Hairlined ribs, in addition to the finger. I feel sad that sometimes I can only play the role of a caregiver and nothing else. Is that true though? Is that all I can do or is that what I have resigned myself to? I am sure I can do more. I can do more and then still feel, that I can possibly do more. What is important to establish is, how much more is more enough? That reflection led me to a rabbit hole, from which there was no easy coming back out.

I found a draft letter, that I wrote back to her right after that “feedback” conversation. The time when we were supposed to vocalize our honest feelings about each other, when we were on the cusp of parting our ways.

Reading it brought back some of my supressed feelings back. This is how the letter started.

I hope you are on your trip and it goes well. Safe travels and take care of your health. I incidentally picked a movie tonight where the character I hated the most was possibly me in real life. It felt a bit shameful. There are couple of things I wanted to tell you, and I have largely learnt to moderate the truth of what I think and what I feel with you, unlike several months ago, when I was almost a glass-frog. (Maybe we came full circle on that, I was an avid advocate of that and now I am possibly not). You would remember, it is one of the first things we talked about, when we found each other. Despite my better judgement I am writing down the feedback for you, that you so repeatedly requested.

It goes on to talk about the feedback I had for her. Looking back at it I am grateful to myself that sense prevailed and I just saved it as a draft and moved on. What purpose would it have served? My biggest consideration was, that for a relationship, what does parting feedback even mean? Is it an exit interview about what could have made one stay? Is it a mechanism to seek validation? Is it a mechanism to find what parts should one change about self for the next person? How do you know those parts are worth changing? How do you know next person is not going to be diamitrically opposite? How do you know that “you”, the real “you” is not good enough, and warrants a change? What gives anyone the right in the world to provide feedback and expect a change? I had a fundamental issue with the thought process. It would be eccentric of me to think that someone should change themselves because there are parts that I don’t like. People are not a living-room upholstry. It shouldn’t work like that.

And then I looked at the feedback that she gave me. The fact that I was broken, damaged and needed help. That I am definitely not normal. I have hurt festering inside me that I am taking out on other people and hurting them. I need professional help and therapy, as she repeated several times during the conversation. I remember that conversation went on for 30 minutes and I was mostly a listener before I was asked to share things in the same vein. I shrugged off that I did not have much to say on the topic. After that call, I was just down in the dumps for so many days. Mostly reflecting that all of it was true about me.

Days later, I slowly started challenging the notion that I was the only problem. I started seeing more clearly that we were truly not compatible in all the ways. I have tendency to mould myself to situation and person I exhibit love for and it can come across as compatibility, whereas it is just me being me, sometimes in an unsustainable way.

We never travelled together, despite so much debate. I tried planning treks or a weekend getaway in hills. The only response I remember from that conversation is how it was not value for money. And I always assumed that I was the one who was more sensitive about money. Any trip that did not have work travel and stay involved, felt expensive and not worth it. Why?

We never ate out. I persuaded and asked. She said, breakfast out was crap. Why to go? Everytime we decided on a date night, it would never happen, mostly because we had so much food at home. Because, apparently eating out is all about filling tummies. I think we made an exception once and ordered something at home. Why did we never go out for a meal together? Why?

What we ate? One of the early reactions in the relationship was the relief that I loved her food. I did, to be fair. But over time, thats all we ate. I genuinely had no problem, but I am surprised it was never a conversation as to how come both our eating habits and staple diets were not evolving? Only mine. Why?

Only I travelled mostly to bring both of us together? There was a recognition of that. So we decied to find an Airbnb in the city where I lived. Soon it became a question of safety, expensive, logistics and what not. We tried finding a place for the weekend and it felt expensive. The easiest thing was to get me to fly over. At the time I was happy to. But it does begs the question, what was the most important bit? Comfort of home, the savings, convenience, or being together? I felt the order got muddled up somethwere. Why?

We never found a equitable way to express love for each other while spending money. The rules were different? Why would it not be uncomfortable for me to accept something and it would be for her? Why my discomfort can be navigated but hers can’t be? Why?

Would she have installed a dishwasher for me? Would she leave the kitchen overnight with basic cleaning? Were any of those were up for a debate? Or the minimalism and the better judgement of doing the right thing would have always been the way to go? I don’t know the answer, but I would have asked this now.

I accept that I always seemed undecisive. Throwing spanner in there every now and then. But I would say that my undecisiveness was met by only caution. Not sheer force of love, that was so often proclaimed. When it came down to moving cities to be closer, the first, there was a sense of excitement, that slowly turned into caution that gradually transformed into a cautionary period of a year before we make a reckless decision. For everything little I did, later I wondered, what matched it from the other side. What can I look back and say, I see, this person made a sacrifice to move forward with me? I had moved out of my house and took upon a life that demanded a lot more and offered a lot less. Why was it required to wait for a year? Because I did not have a great track record at keeping my word?

Lets look at that part.

When our relationship started out. We started with basic 4 rules. Laid out by her. Emotionless hookup. Separate finances. No Jealousy. Safety. She was the first one to demonstrate jealousy without clear expectation setting and that conversation transitioned from emotional hookup to full blown romantic relationship. How? Why? She felt free to spend money on me? What about clear finances? Safety is the only one we honored, almost always. I am not saying that she was the only responsible person for all the transgressions, she was not. I was an equal part, but to be fair we both had track record of not doing what we start off with. So how come the weight of frail promises is only borne by me? I was told that our relationship need not meet the definitions of a normative relationship structure, but I don’t think that held to be true for too long. And yet, the burden of it not working out was mine to bear.

What did we agree on? What was the common ground? Why were we compatible? I have often wondered. Once I emerged from the guilt of leading both of us astray and decided to share the responsibility of it between two mature adults, I realized that what kept us together was also me in some ways.

We were not compatible, not in all the ways at least. What held us together was pure love. Now the rose tint has worn off.

This is not to say that our love was not real or that it has dissipated. It is only to realize that to sustain a relationship meaningfully without doubt, you need signals of long term compatibility and those were sometimes a hit and a miss.

But momentary love does not care about that. It just loves. But this is what I said long back -

It is easier to love somebody than to live with them. Love is fantasy, living is work

Before writing this, I was wondering, what if she finds this entry someday, what would she say? I thought hard about it, and my response is what I said to that person yesterday.

If you want to play the protagonist, write your own story, don’t hope you find that recognition in mine.

Back to tending the broken ribs now.