All the Horrible Girliness

I had this screen up for hours and typed nothing. I don't know what to say. I have a strange kind of melancholy tonight. Maybe because I watched Bee Season, and I tend to morph into the energy of the things I read and watch. I liked the movie as much as I liked the book.

Many of our arguments stem from the fact that I watch Mr. Aran closely, ask many questions, dig into his mind. I am his fan. I bother him with my fandom. I take on his interests and hobbies, from sci-fi/fantasy books, to martial arts, to video games, to movies I wouldn't care to see on my own. I enjoy most of these things, and I find my own identity in them. And yet, in having taken all of these things of his into my personality, I've become something else. Someone else. I guess I've become Samus.

A bit of that happens in Bee Season.

It all stems from me not believing I have anything to offer. And then, that belief becomes real. Now, because I never developed my own stuff to any degree, I have nothing to offer.

I thought massage and writing or even fighting would work for me. And by "work", I mean I thought maybe I could impress him with these things. And by "impress," I mean I thought I could make him feel as rabid for my mind as I am for his, always trying to pry in and find things out. But mostly, if I brought things to his attention, he thought I was asking for help. He tried to help me improve my massage, to my annoyance; who wants to put in an hour of work, just to be told you missed a spot? He gave wonderful advice for my stories but rarely asked to read them, or talked about them in any depth; I had to bring them up. I lost all interest in fighting a couple months ago while watching him help some other girls in the class.

He makes it a point to tell me he's proud of me. But that implies what is true of us: he is in the position to be proud of me, and I am in the position of always trying to earn that. That I do earn it doesn't change our dynamic. He will always be smarter and more interesting. When we meet people I've met and talked to online, he ends up doing all the talking, because next to him, I am boring.

He is who he is, and he is perfect. I can't expect an artist archetype, a Leo sign, to be interested outside his sphere very often. It's how he creates, and his creation makes our money. And I can't relax out of my boss mode, because it keeps the family running. But I sometimes wish we could trade places. Whenever people complain about stupid people, I always interject that someone must bag my groceries, someone must pour my coffee - but the joke's on me. Because Mister Aran is one of the truly great people in the world, and I am the one who pays his bills, folds his laundry, and keeps his ego high enough to do what he has to do.

When he reads this, he'll be angry at me, because he will think it means that eventually I'll decide to pursue my own interests without him. He's wrong about that, but I'm wrong for writing this, too, and I deserve whatever fight I get because of this. I don't feel anything about it, but tired.

posted by Samus @ 12:46 AM