You Complete Me

I never did buy into the whole “you complete me” line.

Of course when Tom Cruise’s character said it, I sighed out loud. The notion is quite “romantic” – the possibility that you’ll find the missing pieces of yourself in someone else.

But something about it always seemed out of whack to me. It’s too much responsibility and pressure to put on someone else’s hands. I truly believe we cannot make anyone else complete. Or happy. We can do or says things that other people may feel happy about…but to presume we have the “power” to make someone happy is dangerous.

Some people say it’s simply semantics. It could very well be semantics. But to me, it’s a mindset I approach my relationships with.

We have the responsibility, ability, and the capability to “complete” ourselves. No need to wait for someone else.

It makes much more sense to me that way. It makes much more sense to me to be complete and happy, on my own. And know that I can be happy (if not happier) with someone or in a relationship.

The premise being, I’ve taken care of the basics from my end. That I’m bringing a (somewhat) complete whole to the table (or at the very least a work in progress). That in doing so I have a better chance of being a truly supportive partner.
Sometimes though we truly do feel like there’s a hole inside. What happens then? Are we doomed to wander the world alone, simply because we don’t feel whole just yet?
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Impact Zone

If I could repeat my last post here… I would.

But I’m tired of feeling sad.

Now don’t get me wrong. I don’t feel sad all the time.

Far from it.

But when I do… I find myself feeling almost utterly despondent. It affects me far more than I feel is healthy for me.

Ok… let’s scale back on the descriptions and for interest’s sake let me just say…

I guess when I love someone, and something happens that feels sad for me, it’s a bit like trying to swim up when I’m caught in the impact zone while surfing.

The best thing to do is to relax, conserve my breath, and let myself float up to the surface.

But in the moment I’m being tossed around and dragged under, I can’t help but feel almost paralysed and the thought of drowning would cross my mind.

At least for a second. Give or take two. Maybe five.

That’s what feeling sad is like for me … being caught in the impact zone and feeling that I’m being dragged under with only a slim chance of doing anything to fight off its paralysing effect.

Except write.

To hopefully exorcise the feeling. Let it float to the top. To a place where it can breathe in new hope.


At least that’s the image I want to take to bed with me.