Dear Other Something,
I’ve been thinking about reliability. Needless to say this is about you and I – since self-indulgence is second nature to us.
I want not to live in fear of your unreliability, but in the beauty of it. You are my Other Something because you live within me but you are that other something by virtue of your innate unreliability. I know you cannot be anything else – but my feeble self is left with a deep resentment of you. One that is unfair, but inescapable. Might there be love in resentment, Other Something? I do love you as I know you love me.
You have agency Other Something, that which I do not. You walk in and out as you please while I am still in anticipation of what you might bring this time around. I am fearful of you – I do not wish to be. You bring me pain, Other Something. You bring with you uncertainty, instability, insanity. You are not a creature of love, I know. Your kindness is your hostility, I understand. But how must I internalize that! I do not know how not to hope that one day you will love me through compassion and not pain.
Other Something, we have come a long way – we have a long way to go. Four years ago, I thought you were unkind, today I understand why. The last time you saw me, you stayed for a couple of years. This time your visit seems shorter. Stay with me, Other Something. Show me resilient love.
Your other something