Dead Men Tell No Tales: Epic Catastrophe IV: Are You Serious

What is Dead Men Tell No Tales? It is a selection of (hitherto) undisclosed, private ruminations and epiphanies. Most take the form of (slightly) edited letters to unnamed recipients, but some have been scavenged from the depths of private journals recently rediscovered. Over the next little while (however long it takes – days, weeks, months, years?) I’ll be posting them in episodic fashion for the reading pleasure of my nonexistent audience.

In Epic Catastrophe, our young author makes a series of unfortunate miscalculations and mistakes with one KL. Are You Serious continues the saga.
[In response the the letter at the end of our last episode, KL wrote, among other things:]
“For one thing, I think you overanalyze everything I say. In fact, I think you overanalyze anything even YOU say. I dont choose my words as carefully as you. I usually mean what I say, but sometimes I mess up. It really isnt such a sudden change on my end. Well, perhaps it is.”
[Ugh. I respond:]
I don’t see how one can over-analyze what oneself has said; perhaps it can be said I look too deeply into your own words, but as for looking too deeply into my own? That is not the case. I might be accused, instead, of not being perfectly forthcoming – I don’t reveal everything about myself all at once – but everything I say or write is honest, exposing facets of myself I feel comfortable doing at that given time. 
Do not feel sorry that you could not “be there for me,” because that sort of support was not what I was looking for… necessarily. If anything, I just wanted some kind of friendship (albeit my definition of friendship tends to exceed most others’), and having been seemingly rebuked, I stopped trying. I learned a long time ago that most people are afraid to share their honest feelings with me – whether it be that they have other problems going on, or that they just don’t like me – and if that is the case, I tend to just give up. I prefer to build relationships on some kind of foundation of trust and honesty, and I am not so stupid as to think that people can be too busy to make time to talk every now and again. I am the opposite of you in this respect – where you seem (now) to not give up, to insist on “being there,” I prefer to simply fade away. 
I am human also. I make mistakes also. I hurt people also. I try and often fail to fix them. I find that the pain I inflict on others is disproportionate and unfair, and having realized as much, I prefer to keep to myself rather than share my wounds with those that don’t deserve the burden. There are things I must do – myself – before I can be ready to really share myself again with another person. But for right now, I prefer to exist as I am and as I have. The demons I carry are many and powerful, and would require a significant amount of time to confront. This is time I do not have, so I do not bring my past into the foreground of my thought very often. There is hatred, sorrow, despair, loneliness, apathy, greed, lust, and all manner of darkness inside me. They blot out the positive aspects. 
People are emotional beings – it’s just that most people do not realize or properly acknowledge this fact. Hell, half of the population (male gender) are taught to ostracize their emotions in order to succeed in the world. That you realize this is commendable, and that you attempt remain true to such instincts is courageous and commendable. I do not act on my emotions, but I retain a…fleeting…connection with them. 
I went through a period where I pushed others away. It was a long time ago. I recovered some ground. Now, rather than push people away, I simply walk away from them. Most I know need little more than for me to stop talking to them and they give up. If I make myself slightly more difficult to reach – one can only call me, or email me – then I reduce the amount of conversing I do drastically. It is a curious thing indeed that such instantaneous communication has, in the modern age, already become archaic and cumbersome. People would rather use Facebook or Myspace or instant messengers. In the old days, you were lucky to receive a letter within a few week’s time. Sometimes I long for such simplicity – we might all be better off for it. 
I have just never understood the motivations of others, and my largest curiosity is why you would go to the trouble to try and be there for me. I have done nothing but attempt to turn you aside; done nothing but be callous, rude, and disagreeable; done nothing but put words in your mouth and tell you what your motivations are; done nothing but criticize your attempts at a generally selfless thing to pursue. I have become so cynical that I do not trust seemingly innocuous attempts at camaraderie and friendship. 
Aside from cynicism, there are two aspects of self that lend towards dissuading intimacy – the aspect of self that desires to fail, to dash the expectations of others and fail colossally where others hoped to see me succeed tremendously. And the aspect of self that wishes to exist entirely apart – entirely alone. The constant heaping of expectations upon my soldiers as a youth led to the former; the constant betrayal of others as a youth led to the latter. 
I apologize for nothing, but my intent is not to make you feel discomfort. This is simply how I am, and I have not even shared very much of myself. These are surface feelings. As I said, I hurt people. But I tire of being goaded into sharing myself and then having to apologize for what is therein – I have given you fair warning and still you persist. I will not apologize, but I can clarify intent.

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